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by Shamik Banerjee Boon brought me here among your meadows green O' Gulmarg Valley; little I have seen In human world, a province so pristine— Now such a realm is true before my eyes; Acquaint me with your firs, the grainlands wide, The span-new bloom, parterres, the riverside, And if you should let me with them abide, I'll be relieved from world's discordant cries. Though one may claim: for true peace of the heart, The Maker should be sought and not His art, Then why did He create your placid height Where eremites reside to feel His light? For fleshly eyes would not see Him, He knew, So kept for us, His godlike mark in you. Shamik Banerjee is a poet from India.

by MG Beware of smiles. For those with the sweetest smiles may turn your soul into a rotting land. Beware of promises. For those with the best promises may trick you worse than a billion dollar swindler. Beware of the light. For only those who have felt the warmth caress of the light would plunge deeper into the dark. You could hear a thousand warnings, but it won't be enough to kill the temptations shall the chance arise. You could carve out a billion warnings, but it won't be enough to save you from the fire that would burn your freezing soul. That is why conmen thrive. That is why liars are believed. I knew. Because it had happened way too often. Because once upon a time, I had ignored those warnings. History taught a lot of things, but observance is a sin not many possess. The human body conveys a lot of secrets, but observance is a virtue not many possess. People are afraid of things they can't predict. People are afraid of things they don't understand. And yet how many of us try to predict? And yet how many of us try to understand? Observance is a sin not many possess. Those who have it will suffer, knowing things not many others will understand. Those who don't will suffer, because with unknowing comes fear. Bitter circumstances come with sweet returns. Live in fear, my love. Or stop ignoring the warnings. The choice is yours. MG is a writer, graphic designer, content creator, social media manager, and student. Her poems can be found in some literary magazines, and soon (hopefully) her novel would be out for you to see to!

by Linda M. Crate this is me: a girl that loves too hard and too much and too intensely, this is me: a girl that never gives up on herself or he dreams; this is me: a girl who is optimistic beyond the point of foolishness because she knows miracles and magic exist— this is me: someone who was told she was too much so she swallowed herself down until one morning she spilled out of her own bones— the moon told me i was beautiful as i was, in all of my phases, no matter how much or how little light i had left in my bones; so i decided i'd be me so i wouldn't shatter like glass when i couldn't be someone's expectation. Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer whose poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has twelve published chapbooks the latest being: Searching Stained Glass Windows For An Answer (Alien Buddha Publishing, December 2022). She is also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022). Her debut book of photography Songs of the Creek (Alien Buddha Publishing, April 2023) was recently published.

by Kushal Poddar Sunlight spreads as if someone's left a mess of coarse grounds sugar. It ensues a skin-burn and tastes sickly but you wish it were more so and less acidic. Near noon every inch burns. I look glazed, smell like a cotton candy bought from some shack on the seashore where an invasion bled and when finally freedom staggered inland its footprints on the sand were red. The sprinklers dry down. I see a child through my ears for eons and then the baby-shoes' squeaking ebbs into the evening. Kushal Poddar, the author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' has eight books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe.

by Morid Hadi Running through the Field trying to escape from "the end" Every weed, Every blade of grass, Each my memories All interconnected roots in me. Slowly reaching a cliff side and knowing this will end at some point A gentle whisper enters my ears "You yourself don't know the reason for your escape so why not give up" I went quiet and slowed down But now I'm standing at the edge of my existence The fates have catched up to me Waving they're scissors around the strings of my life Slowly getting unraveled around me I should be happy to be let go Because the bitter truth is, they're right I don't know the reason of my existence So I accept it and let go But dear reader whose reading this You know I didn't give up So I fight back grab the fates in my hands and say "I may not have a reason" "I may never have" "But I will continue to stare life in its soul" and say "The sun may rise in hell in my eyes but god's grace will make it heaven one day" And that hope is my fuel for running till this Day Morid Hadi is a creative who loves everything related to art especially literature and poetry which lets him escape the troubles of this world.

by Soumik Srabony Crows and crows and crows! Flying here and there, Singing like shouting, They're so close, near to my ear. Black like the darkest night of the year. Their flying feathers— Curved with beauty— But they're nobody's dear, It's so bothersome that they never care. Soumik Srabony, a devoted lover of nature, who finds inspiration in the world's beauty. She passionately crafts poetry that delves deep into her soul and heart, creating words that paint vivid images of the natural world.

by Cansu Gökkaya In the silent night, the shadows grow long, Whispers of memories, tender and strong. I reach out, but your presence is but a wisp, Gone with the wind, like a vanishing kiss. In the hush of the dawn, I long for your gaze, A warmth that once danced, now lost in the maze. Your laughter, a melody, echoes in my mind, Yet in the stillness, a vacancy I find. Through the mist of my tears, I search for your face, Tracing the contours of a forgotten embrace. But time is a thief, stealing moments away, Leaving me stranded in a desolate fray. The echo of your voice, now just a faint hum, Haunts the chambers of my heart, heavy and numb. The symphony we composed, now a discordant tune, Echoing the ache of a love that ended too soon. Every corner I turn, a ghost of your smile, An ephemeral vision, a fleeting exile. I grasp at the remnants, the fragments that remain, But they slip through my fingers, leaving only pain. In the corridors of my soul, your absence resounds, An eternal echo, where silence abounds. I'm left with memories, fragile and frayed, A symphony of sorrow, where love once played. And in the endless expanse of this desolate night, I mourn the loss of you, my guiding light. For in the void you left, my heart is torn, Forever haunted by the love that was once born. Born on May 13, 2008, in Tyrol, Austria, Cansu Gökkaya's early passion for writing has blossomed into a successful career. With her own published book and contributions to several anthologies, her evocative storytelling and profound exploration of human emotions have garnered a dedicated readership. As she continues to craft compelling narratives, Cansu aims to leave a lasting impact on the literary world with her poignant and thought-provoking work. On her Instagram, she showcases snippets of her writing process, offering her followers glimpses into her creative inspirations and the behind-the-scenes journey of her literary endeavors.

by Yuu Ikeda the faint and white sun is reflected in a frozen puddle. can the weak light thaw the frozen puddle? i feel that i'm looking at your eyes that suppress every emotion. the sole faint light of hope in it. the cold shroud that hides even the light is beautiful overwhelmingly. cruel eyes. lonely eyes. blue and vulnerable eyes. Yuu Ikeda (she/they) is a Japan based poet and writer. She loves mystery novels, western art, sugary coffee, and japanese comic “呪術廻戦 (Jujutsu Kaisen)”. She writes poetry on her website. https://poetryandcoffeedays.wordpress.com/ Her first essay “DROPOUT” was published in MORIA Literary Magazine. And her latest poetry chapbook “Mentally, Midnight” was published by Naked Cat Publishing. One of her big dreams is to write while traveling around the world.

by Mahnissa Maneerut I met a girl, a masterpiece true, Whose heart holds a secret, an enchantment in view. Through hell, she has traveled, her spirit unharmed, Beware of her love, for it's both gentle and armed. She taught me of love, both for self and for others, A kind-hearted soul, she embraced all her brothers. Her heart, like a tapestry woven with care, Holds strength and compassion, a treasure rare. Within beats her empathy, understanding all plight, Each joy, every sorrow, it harmonizes just right. Untainted by bitterness, through trials, it remains, Embracing flaws, vulnerabilities, and life's pains. A sanctuary it offers, a haven so pure, Unconditional affection, an endless allure. Nurturing herself, inspiring all around, Kindness and compassion, it effortlessly ground. In its presence, one's drawn to its bright light, Offering hope, healing, and power to invite. An exemplar of beauty, despite hardship and strife, Her heart showcases the essence of human life. To be touched by her heart is to forever transform, By its radiance, its power, its internal storm. A reminder to all, of love's boundless grace, Precious and deserving, a treasure to embrace. She, the girl with the beautiful heart, Radiates beauty, a work of fine art. She, the living masterpiece, the pearl underneath the sea... Giving me hope to believe more ... MAOIs (Mahnissa), an artist at heart, has worked as a writer for over 15 years. Throughout her career, she has poured her emotions onto paper, firmly believing that words have the power to heal her. When asked why she became a writer, she readily explains, "I write because no one listens." Her talent has not gone unnoticed, as she has been honored with more than 10 national awards. Additionally, she has embraced her love for vibrant art forms by venturing into various creative avenues such as writing comics and curating art. Now, she takes another bold step towards self-expression by delving into the world of collages, seeking to become an artist. This audacious move signifies her determination to break free from the confines of the written word and explore new artistic territories.

by Vincent J. Hall II What do you say when words just won't come out? What do you say when there is no room for apologies? Nothing, something, anything. Or is silence your best friend? Your only friend. Who am I to judge? Some days I use silence as my only defense. As my only resort, because you really don't want to hear what I have to say. Or rather I really don't want to say what you need to hear. So I keep it bottled up inside like a box you hide in the back of your closet. Secrets only you know about. Bottled on the inside, never to be released, waiting for a peek, wishing to get out. I've grown so comfortable in this silence. There is something comforting about the nothingness. Beautiful, lonely, absence. The veil I used to hide behind all my insecurities. By which I walk through life unscathed. Yet you, you see right through me. Right into the box. Vincent J. Hall II is a New Jersey-based writer who made his literary debut with The Drinks Between Us. A History graduate from William Paterson University, Vincent helps lead ArtPride New Jersey Foundation’s advocacy and governmental affairs efforts. When he is not helping his community and advocating for arts and culture, Vincent enjoys attending Phillies games with his partner Megan, going to museums, and spending time with friends.

by Hasini Peyyala For those who without a family On the ground there was a seed Trapped by the thickets Of fear and greed A hand reached down through the thick of it “Who are you? What have you done?” the seed murmured “Given you a home”, said the stranger So the seed landed gently into a field of fruits flowered Warmth ignited, and no more was the danger Water cascaded down to the roots The soil gifted nutrients daily Hands picked weeds where they stood The seed blossomed into a magnificent lady Hasini is a current senior in high school. She is an avid reader. She enjoys writing and playingh board ghames in her free time.

by Lauryn Nguyen You make me laugh; Whenever I'm feeling down. Seeing you every day, Makes my day brighter You are a shining star in my life. Im glad, to have met you, Thanks for being my new best friend. You, mean the world to me Lauryn Nguyen is a student in California. She believes that poetry does not need “fancy” words.