By Faleh Al Khazraji
My Love

My sweet dreams always in twilight
Focus on his cheerful presence at night
To be free l rely on his wing and flight
To be witty l depend on his pen and write
To be strong l always lean on his might
He is a demonstrator for human right
A brave fighter if others impose a fight

In kindeness my Lord has a deep insight
His poetry star is gracefully bright
His love tree always fruits quite
His love in sadness is divine delight
He embraces and hugs souls tight
In friendliness he is going alright
And in qualities he is beautifully upright
     By Faleh Al Khazraji

Hülya n. Yilmaz
ripples

i am but a tiny ripple
in the water of life, oft moving too fast

"moving too fast",
as Ryan Montebleau was singing
a few days ago on the road to New Mexico
i had heard that song before,
but its impact this time was profound
as i had been doing some soul-searching
for quite a while amid nature's gorgeousness
his words reached deep within . . .

moving too fast as a tiny ripple
in the raging waters of life,
facing along the way many a strife
yet also many a sunshiny smile
countless ones given as a gift to me
and those i have been gifted with
to give unto others

still . . .
moving too fast as a tiny ripple
on the raging waters of life,
wishing all along that i had taken
each of my breaths only one sip at a time

(c) hülya n. yılmaz, 7.5.2019

poem: Bozena Helena Mazur _Nowak
''in the gazebo''
Translated into the Arabic language
by Syrian poet, Shurouk Hammoud

Joanna Svensson
TO GRETA THUNBERG

Greta - you are
Like a newborn star
- of hope

Born in the bitterdark reality
A reality that is about to turn pale
A reality that is about to vanish

You with your warm feelings
And your solicitude of our planet

You dare to protest
And fight with strong words
against powerful men

You refuse to accept
That the trees are singing
Their swansong
You refuse to accept
That the winds are dancing
Their dance of death

You have seen
That heaven is crying
And sheds its tears of pity
Over our existence

You, Greta, are
Like a newborn star
- of hope!

©® Joanna Svensson

© Private picture Joanna Svensson

All days seem the same
© Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak

The outside world is waiting to be healed
but blinds cover the windows
and pain clings like a demon with sharp claws
and the way out is like the Way of the Cross.

On the threshold the pain stumbles over despair
and in the bedroom guarding memories, curled tightly,
a ginger cat gloomily meows.

There is a void that cannot be filled
when children leave the nest before they are ready to fly.
The nights are darker, all days seem the same.
Unshed tears hover, waiting to fall.
We stare at the blue bike standing orphaned in the hallway
and ask ourselves – Why?

Dni podobne do siebie
© Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak

Ból jak garb przylgnął do pleców
żaluzje szczelnie zakrywają okna
Za oknem świat czeka na zabliźnienie ran
Jak tam wyjść skoro schody są jak droga krzyżowa

Już na progu cierpienie potyka sie o rozpacz
Patrząc na niebieski osierocony rower
W sypialni rudy kot pilnuje wspomnień
Zwinięty w kłębek mruczy smętnie.

Kiedy dzieci odchodzą przedwcześnie
Zostaje pustka, której nie da się niczym zastąić
Wypłakane łzy ustępują miejsca niewypłakanym
Noce są jeszcze ciemniejsze, dni podobne do siebie
Wypełnione pytaniami - „dlaczego?”

(pic from internet)

Hana shishiny
DID you hear...

Every part of me is calling
Not the noise.?not the echo
Not even  my poetry
Kept hidden..and frozen..
Not the murmurs of my silence
Between the foliage..
Not the tears..
Not the wind's..sadly moaning
In your ears..
Didn't you hear....

How could you vanish
In that subtile  darkness
Sailing toward unknown horizon
Turning your back on magical moments..
To endless desires..
Of gatherness  we use to seed..
Of dreams unfilled..of sunrises unseen...
Step back in my poems
Dont be greed..
Step back and listen
To the melody I sent
To the winds ..and hear..

By Hana Shishiny
July 2019
All rights reserved...