NEVER ASK By Luz María López

Luz María López

Never ask. Let it be the silence. Rain, breeze, thunder. The quiet moment in the eyes, the farewell. And then, let it be a scream also because nothing else will be left. Maybe, just maybe, some jasmine and blues hanging around, for a while. Like when you whispered love songs. Like when I kissed you sweet.

 LUZ MARÍA LÓPEZ from Puerto Rico is writer of poetry, narrative, essays, translator, editor. Is the author of three poetry books; Editor in Chief for “Poetic Voices of New Century” (Spanish edition) 2016; Assistant Editor for the “XXI Century Literature Book”, 2016; Editor for Galaktika Poetike “ATUNIS” Literary Magazine. Her poetry has been published in multiple international anthologies, issued in world renowned magazines and translated to many languages. She is Board Member of the International Writers Association (IWA BOGDANI); Board of Directors Member at Soflay Literary Foundation; Executive Director of World Festival of Poetry (WFP) and World Poetic Front Defending Women’s Rights (WM); President for Spain and Puerto Rico of Writers Capital Foundation; Ambassador at Large and Director General of World Institute for Peace (WIP) to Puerto Rico and USA; Director for Spain and Puerto Rico of World Nation Writers' Union Organization; Member of the Organizing Committee of the International Book Fair in Mayagüez, Puerto Rico (FILEMH). Luz María has been recipient of two honors: “Universal Inspirational Poet”, by Pentasi B, Ghana, 2016; Shaan-E-Adab “Glory of Literature” by Kafla Intercontinental, Udaipur, India 2016. The KHATAK Literary Award 2017 will be conferred to her next February during a ceremony at Dhaka, Bangladesh. Luz María also hosts poetry events in Puerto Rico and abroad. She believes that poetry can heal the world and poets do have a social responsibility towards humankind.



Shadows of darkness lurking around in the tunnel of life with festive sounds. The path is a delight for sojourn amidst fields of barren beauties offered every moment to lovers of God. The wings of birds is clipped before the release from this cage of body till purified in the burning flames of desires gold. Rebirth of spiritual progress awakens the falcon soul opening its stronghold on heaven restored. The whirling dance is in a white robe of shrouds with a tall cap covering head of the tomb of carnality ultimate goal.

  Jyotirmaya Thakur is a bilingual poetess, writer, a teacher,academician, administrator, translator,reviewer,Reiki healer,social activist,promoter of literature and honorary counsellor of charity organisations. A creative writer for ‘Poet's Choice ‘forum and Co-editor in ‘My Books Publications’,Editor of of Anthology of Telangana poetry forum-”Symphony of souls’.Many of her poems have been published on national and international websites and anthologies.She has published two poetry books this year which is available on -”RHYTHMS OF REALITY” & LOVE & ROMANCE. A series of 3 Poetry Books are being published and shall be launched in 2018 .She has won many awards from national and international poetry forums and organisations. She is an admin of 13 poetry forums Moderator in 2 & coordinator and member of jury in 7 poetry forums. A widely travelled person and in love with all cultures of the world.

Issue 2, June 2017

In the Roses path by Hassan al-Mahdi

The colorful butterflies dance with me, I am who is the aromatic tree. I open thousands sleeve over my face that comes from a distant nebula. Nebula that doesnot fit the devourers or the rodents.
Laying my hands as trunks dangle with breeze of the morning for the canarys and sparrows, meanwhile the pink color coronate the other side of the sun.
The time fannished in the black sheets and the love talismans were written by hot cloud rain draw from my eye at sympathy awhile. And in the path of roses. I look with the grace at the poor red dragonfly faltering in the throw of purpose. Oh, lost dreams in the kingdom of immortality between the bow and the arrow poison venom.
In the roses path, there are only the shadows headers in the courtyard bay, space smoke, fire attendants and a crystaly tragedies enveloping the bodies.

Hassan al-Mahdi, Iraq

Tale of a Tree by Nidhi Kunvarani

One day by the grace of supreme divinity I was sent here on the earth with the intense to give people to love, shelter, fruits and also mirth! My roots heir in the creation of ameba to ape and ape to men!  That's all the history I've been read about my heritage whosoever had written! I love to spread love among my family, friends and whomsoever to I meet! In small span of life wish to give my best as candle light! Some people have many times tried to cut me without knowing my pains! But, my roots are much deeper they didn't know I'll bear once again as phoenix from those remained ashes! My wish is not to world; write my name with golden carves. I wish to remain alive forever in few hearts to my family and friends and you all are Pilgrimages! 

Nidhi Kirtibhai Kunvarani is an India poem and writer . She is a Learner and research aspirant of the English Literature. She Completed M.A English Literature from M.KB.U University Gujarat. She is Interested in studying new literary studies and research of colonial and post-Colonial theories. She Won several contests awards for English poetry.

The Old Oak Tree by Walid Boureghda

She had scrounged an instant of silence from time, and had commenced to forage around in the stream of events. Although the wind was heavily blustering and the leaves were swayingly falling off the trees, a total tranquility was soundly overwhelming all through before her. Her single reflection just showed up whilst she was staring at the old oak tree in the nearby, questionably wondering how awkwardly the gusty wind was wagging its branches. 
The wind was spotlessly trying to break down the old oak's bole; yet the tree was highly adamant, only its dead leaves naturally fell off, just like her tears of despair when her eyes were fully shedding down her rosy cheeks. Despite the disappearance of pain and the stillness of its blemishing effects, her crystal tears were miraculously sent forth as a magic balm on the incurable wounds.

  Walid Boureghda, Algeria