"STICKY EASTER CAKE!" Poem of Balachandran Nair India

 

As a simple Poet I was quite alright

As a Known Poet I always thought

Whatever I write is absolutely right

When they called me Global Poet

It simply increased my head weight!

When labelled Veteran Great Poet

I stopped attending local gatherings,

Instead, sent a Walking Stick as my symbol!

I carried on like this for many years.

I chose Easter Day to solemnize, as

Wedding Day of my only daughter

I printed picture of walking stick in invitation card

So that people can recognise me easily, The Bard!

A big Easter cake was mass attraction of function.

I remained busy with the bride and groom

Almost all the time inside the green room

When it was apt Muhurtham* time,

I came to the dias and looked around for guests

All the seats in front were already occupied,

By none other than lot of Walking Sticks!

* Auspicious moment

for any prescribed function.

©® Balachandran Nair

India

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Short biodata of Balachandran Nair (in third person):

Balachandran Nair is a multilingual poet from Kerala, India. He has published five poetry authorities and his poems took place in 90 more books published world wide. He has translated an anthology from language Malayalam to English. He has also published a book on rightful disposal and cremation of human body after death. His poems have been translated to 88 world languages so far. He has three unique World Records for introduction of more than 400 school children as New Poets in a continuous one-year online literary drive in 2022. He is now preparing to bring in 3000 more Student Poets in the near future under the auspice of International Academy of Ethics. He is Life Time Member in IAE and Advisor in many literary platforms.

Balachandran Nair

ΛΕΥΤΕΡΗΣ ΣΙΩΜΟΣ "ΛΥΡΙΚΌ ΜΠΟΥΚΈΤΟ "

 

Η ΟΜΟΡΦΙΑ ΤΗΣ ΨΥΧΗΣ Ατένισε με σταθερά Γλυκά και παθιασμένα Να δω ψυχής σου ομορφιά Που κουβαλάς στο βλέμμα.

🌺 ΟΣΑ ΑΚΟΥΕΙ Η ΑΓΑΠΗ Αγκάθια, λόγια αληθινά Που ακούσε η αγάπη Τα' βάλε μέσα στην καρδιά Μετατρπήκαν σ'ανθη .

🌺 ΣΤΑ ΧΈΡΙΑ ΣΟΥ Φίλα με που σε λαχταρώ Για να σε πάω στ' αστέρια Κι' αν μ'αγαπάς όπως κι'εγω Στα φέρνω μες στα χέρια.

🌺 ΓΕΝΝΑΙΟΔΩΡΗ ΚΑΡΔΙΑ Αγάπη είναι μια καρδιά Μ' αισθήματα στολίδια Χαρίζει πιο πολύ χαρά Παρά κρατάει η ίδια.

🌺 ΨΗΓΜΑ ΦΙΛΙΑΣ Όλα στα δίνω,να χαρείς Φίλε κι'ας δίνεις ψήγμα Κι' εκείνο μου το αφαιρείς Τι άδικο,τι κρίμα.

🌺 ΘΑ'ΣΟΥΝ ΤΟΣΟ ΟΜΟΡΦΗ; Πιστεύεις να'χεις ομορφιά Μιας καλλονης γλυκιά μου Αν δεν υπήρχε η ματιά , Τα μάτια τα δικά μου;

🌺 ΖΕΙ ΣΤΟ ΡΙΖΙΚΟ ΣΟΥ Κάποιος συχνά σε σκέφτεται Και ζει στο ριζικό σου Εκείνος π' ονειρεύεται Και το χαμόγελό σου .

🌺 ΜΝΗΜΕΣ ΧΑΡΑΣ Μέσα στις λίμνες της ματιάς Βουτώ και κάνω κύκλους Ταράζω μνήμες της χαράς Και της ψυχής τους κύκνους.

🌺 ΜΟΙΡΑΣΙΑ ΧΑΡΑΣ Την ευτυχία και χαρά Ένιωσα σαν τις νοιάστηκα Πήρα τριπλές μες στην καρδιά Σαν μ'αλλους τις μοιράστηκα.

🌺 ΟΙ ΨΥΧΕΣ ΣΥΓΚΙΝΟΥΝ Τα πράγματα δεν κουβαλούν Χαρές,πόνους και δάκρυα Είναι οι ψυχές που συγκινούν Και λάμπουν σαν διαμάντια. Λευτέρης ΣιωμοςΚ 01λ.μπ Ελ.

Η φωτογραφία δημιουργήθηκε με το ΑΙ

ΕΥΑ ΠΕΤΡΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ ΛΙΑΝΟΥ " Μητέρα "

 Μητέρα

Μητέρα,

Η συκιά άνθισε,

Μητέρα,

Και τα γκρίζα σύννεφα έφυγαν...

Μητέρα,

Η θάλασσα ημέρεψε...

Μάνα,

Η πιο γλυκιά κουβέντα,

Η πιο μεγάλη αγκαλιά,

Το δάκρυ που δε θα δείς ποτέ.

Μάνα,

Η λέξη που ακόμη 

και στα πιο βαθειά γεράματα μας,

Θα μας κάνει, 

να νιώθουμε ευτυχία,

θλίψη η πόνο.

Μάνα,

Ο δεσμός που δε κόβεται ποτέ...

Μανούλα,

Φωνάζουν τα παιδιά όταν το βράδυ

Θέλουν παραμύθι

Μανούλα,

Oταν στο προσκέφαλο τους

θα ξαγρυπνα άυπνη...

Μάνα,

Ένας άνθρωπος χωρίς εγωισμό

Ένας άνθρωπος με καρδιά Μέγαλη

Ένας Άγγελος στη Γη

Μητέρα,

Η αρχή και το τέλος της ζωής μας

Ο άνθρωπος που θα μας αγαπά αληθινά

Όσα λάθη κι εάν κάνουμε.

Μάνα,

Μητέρα,

Μαμά,

Εσύ, το ρόδο το αγγελομορφο!!!

Μανούλα,

Μητέρα,

Μαμά,

Εσύ, η εστία του σπιτιού!!!

Μανούλα,

Μήτερα,

Μαμά,

Εσύ ,.η δημιουργός της ζωής

Χρόνια πολλά παραμυθένια

Χρόνια πολλά μαμά μου

©®Εύα Πετρόπουλου Λιανου 

Poems, Niloy Rafiq. Bangladesh.

 

Eyes Drawn

Niloy Rafiq 

The nightbird coos, perched on moonlit branches, 

stars adrift in waves of drowsy moonlight, tides of unfamiliar wonder ripple through, hidden joy floats gently, merging into estuaries, 

an ocean, painted with eyes, entranced.

Sunlight smiles at the window, warmth calls to fly,

faces masked, yet the gaze lingers behind, eyes looking back at the scene.

Translator: Nurul Haque 

Seven Turning

Niloy Rafiq 

In Behula's dream house, the tailor sews, 

In enchanted love, the mirror of time's peace. 

Waterless Karatoya, emptiness of life! Letters on burnt clay at Mahasthangarh.

In civilization's history, ancient palace halls, In inner chambers, tunes of heavenly flowers. 

Intricate word patterns, invisible kisses, Daily guests in waves of flowing streams.

Roots in red earth scented with tradition, Seven heads, a monument of eternal tales.

In poetry's festival, the saint's rehearsal, Aesthetic immortality, prayers for peace.

Translator:Nurul Haque 

Niloy Rafiq was born in 6 August 1983 Maheshkhali, Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh. Niloy Rafiq has been writing in the literary pages of local daily newspapers since his school days. Later, his poems were published in national and international literary magazines including various famous little magazines. So far, his notable poems have been translated into more than twenty foreign languages. His English poetry book 'Sun Leaf" has already been published under 'Stockholm Project 2033 Global Leader' by Amazon.His second English translated poetry book 'An Incomplete Kiss" has published in 2024 from Amazon.The number of his poetry books written in Bengali languages are 6 respectively 1. I, the swan float in pure sadness, 2. Thirst's eternity, 3. Salty man's face, 4. Unknown fire, 5. Adinath in eyes, 6. Wax prayer bowed in a clay body. His poetry has a magical, edgy feeling. Poet Niloy Rafiq is like a magician in the extraordinary weaving of words and rhythms.

Dr. Ahmed Al-Qaisi "She Sleeps Upon a Cloud .!"

 

She Sleeps Upon a Cloud .!

There, where the hands of time come to a halt, and storms fall asleep in the arms of the night, a girl lies upon a cloud as soft as a dream.

Bathed in the blue light of the moon, her soul is filled with a stillness that resembles nothing but a first longing.

Her eyes are closed, as if fleeing from the noise of the earth to the whispers of the sky.

There is nothing around her but a sleeping sea reflecting the light of stars, and a sky that embraces her as if she were a secret of pure beauty.

Every wave in the sea tells a story, and every star in the sky sends out a wish…

But she is the only one whose wish came true — she ascended to the cloud and fell asleep.

As if the cloud were a pillow of mercy, the sky a cradle of peace, and the moon a gentle eye watching over her with tenderness.

There, no sorrows exist, no noise, no heavy burdens to tire the heart.

Only silence… light… and dream.

Perhaps we are all searching for that cloud —

A place where we can sleep far away from all that hurts, fall asleep without fear, and wake to the sound of love.

Will the sky ever call us one day, and grant us its cloud so we may rest from the burdens of life?

In a corner of this vast universe, where the sea embraces the sky, and the moon spills its blue light over the waves, she was there — a little girl sleeping on a cloud.

Not just any cloud, but one woven from wishes, filled by kind souls with a softness like the breath of night.

She lay in her white dress like a summer breeze upon a pillow of light, her hair flowing like strands of night cascading gently over a dream.

The moon, in its beautiful solitude, watched over her from afar, telling her ancient tales whispered by the stars, reflecting in its eyes the light of another world — a world without noise, without fear.

As for the sea, it calmed its waves in reverence for this sacred dream, humming with eternal softness a hymn of stillness,

A melody for a celestial prayer, a spellbinding lullaby.

She slept there, my little one, and dreamed, sinking into a slumber from which only the call of a loving heart — or a more beautiful dream from beyond the borders of the sky — could awaken her.

Sleep, my little one, sleep… and dream.

Written by: Dr. Ahmed Al-Qaisi

A poem by Maria Miraglia Italy

 

To My Mother

Far as the stars
shining at night
on the dark canvas
the time together
but I can still feel
the scent of the lilies
in that home
whose windows are closed
since that gloomy day

The sun comes back
and rises the moon
again and again
the colours of the seasons
seem to be the same
and so the murmurs
of the waters flowing
to their mouths
but the sense of joy
when with you
my guide my angel

And still I can hear
your reassuring voice
and feel the touch
of your hand on mine
when talking to me
of life and love
with words of wisdom

Where are you Mom
do you love me still

@Maria Miraglia

Maria Miraglia "Gaza"

 

Gaza

I have seen so much

And heard so much

To believe that a part of hell

Has moved to Earth

Not only with the stench of burning flesh, 

Flames screams and cries

Invocations and curses

But also with the demons

Who in the underworld left

Their bestial forms

Their tails horns  fangs

claws and black wings

But with them they brought

Their wickedness

You can read in their disturbing eyes

Their evil smiles and

Their way of rejoicing 

Over the lifeless bodies of innocents

The demons disguise themselves 

In human form, 

Which also carries the scent of sulfur. 

One of them loves the carnival 

And wears the clothes of Francis. 

Who knows if it’s out of scorn or madness 

But the dead children in Gaza 

Will rise like angels

With  white wings 

And be welcomed in God's presence, 

While on Earth 

In a land destroyed 

By hate and greed, 

The memory of their bloody faces 

Will haunt the nights 

Colouring with nightmares 

The dreams of those demons.

And if by chance

Or for unknown reasons 

They’ll not receive 

The proper punishment on Earth, 

They will undoubtedly have a ticket 

To the most fiery of hellish circles.

May 2025

©® Maria Miraglia