Poems for “The 55th Edition of Primelore Writer’s Heaven”.

Dear writers and readers at first take our love. Here we published more poems for “The 55th Edition of Primelore Writer’s Heaven”. Dear poets Please buy your premium membership and be a continuous writer of “Primelore Writer’s Heaven”
Each New poet can submit 3 poems free. After three free submissions please buy your membership. New poets please send your poem with your picture and short bio. To- jes2mine@gmail.com Thanks all.

01.
Poem: “Peace”
Poet: EVA Petropoulou Lianou.
From: Greece.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

We take ourselves
We wear the peace
We go out to fresh air
No bombs
But so much dead bodies

We look at the sea
We smell the salt
We closed our eyes
This is the peace perfume my sister
©️®️ EVA Petropoulou Lianou.

02.
Poem: “YOU”
Poet: MUSTAFA NACİ ÖZER
From: TÜRKİYE
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

You are a song—
The one I listen to with all my playful heart.
You are a picture in my eyes,
One I gaze upon without ever tiring.
You are a sweet smile
Resting gently in my little dimple.
Sometimes you are a tear
Sliding softly down my cheek.
You are my cloud, my sun in the daylight,
A shooting, glowing star in my night.
You are the storm within me—never still,
The endless thought that fills my mind.
You are the adornment of my every day:
In the chair where I sit,
In the room where I wander,
Behind every door I open,
In every sound I hear,
In every breath I take—
You are everywhere within me.
You are the branch I cannot hold,
The rose I cannot smell,
The blood in my veins, the life in my heart,
My sigh, my joy, my happiness.
You, you, you—only you…
And you are my everything,
In my merciless life,
In my days and long nights,
In my cursed loneliness.
You—beyond mountains and roads—
You exist.
Only you.
©️®️ MUSTAFA NACİ ÖZER

03.
Poem: “Flower”
Poet: Afroza Jesmine.
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Flower bloom in silence, soft and slow,
Where morning’s golden fingers glow.
The dew gives a kiss upon its cheek.
Flowers speak in scents, though it’s meek.

The sun, who loves flower from afar,
A distant yet devoted star.
Star warms flower leaves with tender grace,
Yet it never sees flower fading face.

The bees arrive, a fleeting dance,
They never stay, just take their chance.
They praise flower petals, pink and wide,
Then chase the wind and leave flower side.

The flower long to move, to run, to flee,
But its roots hold tight to earth and flower.
The flower feels the storm and the sky.
Flower bend and break, yet don’t cry.

For the flower beauty born to pass,
A mirror made of fragile glass.
Still, in flower silence,
A quiet joy, a touch of pain.

So, pluck flower not, just let it be.
A fleeting bloom, yet wholly free.
Flower is for beauty of world.
Take care of flowers all.
©️®️ Afroza Jesmine.

04.
Prose: “AUTUMN IN SEOUL”
Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai.
From: Australia
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Autumn in Seoul feels like stepping into a living poem which is soft, golden, and achingly tender. The air is filled with a hint of chill, yet every corner of the city glows with warmth from the trees dress ed in gold and crimson. Walking beneath the ginkgo leaves on Namsan, I hear the rustle of the wind as if it were whispering verses of a love song. At Gyeongbokgung Palace, red maple leaves drift across moss-covered stones, wrapping the ancient walls in charm. The city seems to beat more slowly, and so do I. As a Vietnamese heart wandering here for a literary conference, I find myself moved beyond words by the harmony of past and present, by the way Seoul’s autumn speaks in the same language as poetry. Between sips of tea by the Han River at dusk, watching the orange sky fade into violet, I feel the beauty of two cultures touching gently, briefly at the same time eternally like a verse spreading by the wind.
©️®️ Vo Thi Nhu Mai.

05.
Poem: “THE WIN”
Poet: Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

At last we are proud,
We say loud:
Our team is the winner,
We never sell our possibility for any dinner!
The players were the same,
But albanian champions win the game.
Serbians lost on their own field
And Albanians told the world their real bild!
We hope to continue with new wins,
Only fer play and optimism victory brings!
©️®️ Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri

06.
Poem: “The Vast Horizon”
Poet: “Osama Okasha”
From: Egypt.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Writing is a gate to deliverance, a key to the labyrinths of the soul when all paths grow narrow.
It is a bridge stretching between a burdened heart and a boundless horizon — upon it,
meanings are gently led forth until the sediment of sorrow and the dregs of care are poured away.
It is the discipline of the spirit, by which the writer refines the billows of his chest as water is cleared
of its murk; and thus, the torrents of feeling become tranquil words, clothing the heart in serenity and
wrapping it in the robe of peace.

Strange indeed is its nature — for writing is not content to be merely a balm to the wounded soul;
it is a polished sword with which one faces the tempests and tribulations of life. It illumines the way,
dispelling the gloom of confusion, so that the eye of insight beholds what had been veiled from sight.
Through it one learns patience, trains in eloquence,
and acquires the art of unveiling what lies within without tremor or fear.

Writing also brings expansion of spirit;
it lifts the fog of melancholy and breathes into the heart the breezes of joy.
Sorrows melt into dewdrops that moisten the arid soil of the soul,
and from their midst rises the dawn of contentment. It is, too, a faithful mirror —
revealing to man his hidden self, acquainting him with his own depths,
until he masters his passions and walks the path of composure.

And when calamities strike, writing is a loyal companion:
it comes to the aid of the wounded when affliction bites,
comforts the lonely in their solitude, and raises the fallen upon the staff of hope after a stumble of
despair. Writing, then, is a subtle kind of medicine —
one that heals the heart, tames the mind, and purifies the spirit,
until a person becomes of firmer will, clearer thought, and brighter joy.
©️®️ Osama Okasha
Bio:
Osama Okasha is an Egyptian writer whose voice resonates across the realms of literature, language, and disability rights. He has contributed to several esteemed magazines and platforms, where his writings reflect both intellectual depth and a refined literary sensibility.
A writer who lives with a disability, Okasha has turned his challenge into a source of strength and inspiration. Through perseverance and devotion to learning, he earned his master’s degree in Egypt, embodying the triumph of will over limitation. His work stands as a testament to the power of the human spirit when refined by knowledge and fortified by faith.
Throughout his career, he has delivered numerous lectures and authored a wide range of Arabic essays and studies, particularly on the treasures of the Arabic

07.
Poem: “Like the Phoenix “
Poet: Ahmed Miqdad.
From Gaza city, Palestine
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Like the Phoenix
I am the victim,
suffering like a slaughtered sheep, while the world witnesses my murder.
I am the sister,
crying like a waterfall,
while my brothers hide in fear.
I am the daughter,
screaming for her family,
but they only stand and watch.
I am the mother,
searching for my siblings,
while they speak in harsh words.
I am an olive tree,
standing aflame,
while settlers’ axes break my bones.
I am the burnt child,
aching deep within, playing a sad melody. I am the widow,
caring for her orphans, fighting the hideous occupiers.
I am the dilapidated tent, keeping my people warm,
unable to deter the aggressors’ attacks.
I am the camp,
holding its refugees,
witnessing the occupation’s crimes.

I am the wounded,
my limbs flying through the air –
a testimony to the ongoing genocide.
I am the martyr,
whose soul curses the wrongdoers, whose blood feeds the olive trees.
I am Palestine— dying as a martyr,
and rising like the Phoenix.
©️®️ Ahmed Miqdad.

08.
Pom: “TRUTH”
Poet: Daniel omar
From: Malawi.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Tears and blood become their daily water to drink
Reflection and being flexible push them to dark
unfortunately people persecuted like wild animals in the bush
The matter of fact is that every human deserve validity touch
Humanism transforms sky’s generation to a Capricorn crush
©️®️ Daniel Omar
Bio:
Daniel Omar is an 18-year-old Congolese living in Malawi, who despite losing his father young, excelled academically, serves as a Sunday school teacher, a brilliant ambassador of african village project, humanitarian action, a psychosocial council at fraternity without borders and he is involved in African Youth Artistic Poetry to teach poetry for help of the community as non profit school and the Youth Advisory Panel while supporting his family.

09.
Poem: “Love as Art-“
Poet: Til Kumari Sharma.
From:Nepal.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Loving art of tears is emotion.
That emotion is kindness.
That is the struggle of life.
Love is the silent journey of pain.
The life of a tear is my loving soul of kindness.
Love in this life is a painful wound.
Love is the journey of tears and happiness.
Love is an art of energy.
Love in the heart of emotion is tearful.
It is a success and failure both.
It is the art of pain.
It is the art of human struggle.
Love is a painful artistic journey of life.
The worth of love is artfully energetic.
©️®️ Til Kumari Sharma

10.
Poem: “A Duet Poem: Limerence”
Poets: Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee & Dr. Sarita Chauhan
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

First part :
Dr Ratan Bhattacharjee
I am lost in you and don’t want to find myself any more,
Your breath is the tide that sweeps me from shore to shore.
Each glance you give rewrites the map of my desire,
A silent spark that sets my solitude on fire.

You are the echo in my every waking thought,
The dream I chase though reason says I ought not.
Time folds around us like a whispered vow,
I forget who I was, I only know you now.
If love is madness, let me never be sane—
For in your eyes, I find both pleasure and pain.

Second part :
Dr. Sarita Chauhan
I do not lose myself in you —
I dissolve like mist in the ache of becoming.
Your gaze is not a mirror, it is a question
the universe keeps asking through human eyes.

What if love is not possession but remembrance—
a recalling of what was once whole, now scattered
in the constellations of longing and restraint?

You call it madness,
I call it awakening —
the moment when pain learns to breathe
and desire forgets its name.

I am not yours,
I am the silence between your heartbeats
where all your forgotten lifetimes return to listen.
©️®️ Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee & Dr. Sarita Chauhan .

11.
Poem: “MY POEM”
Poet: Nguyen Thi Lan.
From: Danang City, Vietnam.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Yes, this is my poem
Decorated with fresh blossoms
Of love
And wishes of peace and happiness
To all people in the world
THANK YOU
Thank you, my darling
For your patience
For your sacrifice and sufferings
Your sympathy and understanding
For your love to me
REST IN PEACE
Rest in peace, my dearest friend
No worries for the future
No regrets for the past
Just rest, in peace
Forever peace
©️®️ Nguyen Thi Lan.
Bio:
My name is Nguyen Thi Lan. You can call me LANTV. Yes, I dream to build a LIFE AMAZING NET, using all my poetry and Youtube income and some from my tours for charity to bring the needy some tove and joys. I used to be a teacher of English and have been working as s tourguide for more than 30 years.

12.
Poet: Maria Tosti.
From: Italy.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Haiku:

rugged himalayas –
on the blue poppies
the first rain .
©️®️ Maria Tosti.

13.
Poem: “A LIFE WE SAID WE WOULD LOVE!”
Poet: Lulzim Hajdari.
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

We said in one life that we would love
And no one would separate us,
But life often proves unfair
How could it stop this love?

The waves of the storm took their toll
And we both raced after wealth,
In opposite directions, we rushed eagerly
And forgot the most important thing, love.

As I recall the great loves through time
And the strength to be together until denial,
I return to myself, angry,
A piece of failure in love and unlucky.

Perhaps fate did not have much to do
From our inability, we have taken this price,
For without water, without bread, and without a home,
They lived, but haven’t pushed their love from the heart!
©️®️ Lulzim Hajdari.

14.
Poem: “Repercussions Never Wane”
Poet: Ahmed Farooq Baidoon.
From: Egypt
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Behold that chirping nightingale with a melancholic psalm,
With processional tumultuous grapes of calm,
That shape of crimson dolly sunken in a woof of rubble,
Call it a finale to purity and innocence – a travesty! – No matter such trouble.

Those helpless littles were once mumbling, manipulating and mimicking;
As playwrights dramatizing such wagging ducklings and roaring lions,
The strongholds of world audience and spectators cheered with applause,
It was so, that merriment on the cusp of fruitful realm dreams,
Yet, all-in-all turned into a fearful nightmare,
Nothing but a hoax of so-called mankind, mutilating austere smile.

Hard to tell such conscientious decline at stake,
No more laughter, jests nor fretful wake,
The theatrical stage was destitute of their existence,
Their abode recline in divine providence.

The whopping crows verily yelled at me,
‘It does serve you right, heartless humanity to obliterate that glee!’
Let-alone a scythe plucking out crumbs of my shreds in the sneer of loss,
Farewell to your bragging prodigy – no use such monotonous floss,
I wonder in my solitary altar and burst in torrential contemptuous despair;
Be there enough muckle of time to repent,
With the advent of bygone children’s jubilant sun lair?
An angelic response – a mighty vanguard of universal chant:
‘You, infinitesimal being, shall doom to inevitable exodus to nowhere – what a grant!’
I begged that leafless oak to cast some shade – as if I were in a squabble and trance,
An epitaph or a pictorial mortuary uplifting my blooming pedigree proclaimed:
“A miserable loser on the brink, you stroll death ramp of buds – ain’t you ashamed?”
“Ain’t you an heir on staunch wavering abode, no more trophy for equinox”
“A form of helpless wanderer trapped in a maze box!”
©️®️ Ahmed Farooq Baidoon
Bio:
Mr. Ahmed Farooq Baidoon, situated in northern Egypt, Damietta. A poet, a novelist and critic. His avant-garde literary oeuvre was written in Arabic; namely, a collection of short stories, entitled: ‘A Human being but…?’, ‘Snippets Tinged With Savory of Oneself’, ‘Altar of Imagination’, more and above, regarding the release of poetic Arabic anthologies titled: ‘Give me some slack’ & ‘Humanity Shortcomings’, alongside with three novels; namely, ‘Stratagem, thy name is women!’, ‘Nabhan & the Cask of Delirium’. Besides, some translation works to build up a cultural cauldron throughout the Algerian novella ‘The Legend of the Squirrel’.
Worthy mentioning the repertoire of English poetic sharing and epistolary anthologies through social media platforms and magazines; i.e, Verseum, OPA, Poetry Tribune, Meipian, HomoUniversalis, Orfeu, Puspaporvat, Global Poetry, etc… To rejuvenate that linguistic commonplace in tapestry of innovation in some other Arabic poetic electronic fora like Sefrou, Amarji, SIM Arab Electronic Magazine.

15.
Poem: “Business in the Port”
Poet: Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui.
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

For the dirty gathering of ship
The sight is full of moorings,
Lone sea tortured with furrows
The goods sold on bargaining.
Ships are fearless with mortal oars
Machine’s death is now born,
Yet, poor port becomes rich
With Thanksgiving alien corn.
Import is purely the life’s toil
Wealth stored the weeping blood,
Now think how much to pay
For the goods silence-clad.
The crane sounds an anxious note
Waves jumps on the rusted waist,
Frail banners of their broken power
The agents of the companies hoist.
Port’s faith measures no distance
Between birth and death free,
A sawn full of gold sinks,
A sad time born in reverie.
Trade gives no more comfort
Import depends on export high,
Now the sea is guarded cold
On leaky board I freeze a sigh.
©️®️ Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui
Bio:
Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui is poet, writer, translator, and a university professor, has already authored twenty-seven books, and a great number of poems, articles and storieshave been published in different Newspapers, Magazines, Journals, Periodicals, etc. Besides being awarded internationally for his poetic accomplishments, he has many a time been honored by different organizations of Bangladesh for his contribution to literature, education and research. A solo cassette album of his eleven poems called Visions and his poems in some anthologies have been published by The National Library of Poetry, Maryland. His prize-winning poems on ‘peace’ have been published in Official Catalogues by Cultura-e-Societa, Torino, Italy

16.
Poem: “YOU GO, O SUN!”
Poet: Kujtim Hajdari.
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

The mornings elude my sight,
Even the sun that once warmed me,
Only at dusk, during sunset,
Do I hear its call for mornings.

I’ve wandered the world for so long,
Bearing burdens of countless troubles,
Wandering aimlessly, devoid of hope,
With desires and pains that freeze me.

Yet, I refuse to venture further,
Unheeding its call, I remain,
Life holds value for me, I love it,
Even in its bitterness, I still yearn for it.

Go, sun, go towards the sunset,
I turn my steps, not following you there,
In the morning, upon your return,
You may find me somewhere, a wanderer.

Just one ray, lower it gently to me,
To serve for me as a bed of shelter,
Weary from suffering, consumed by longing,
I shall on it sleep with a glimmer of hope.
©️®️ Kujtim Hajdari

17.
Poem: “Love Me, Don’t Trust Me”
Poet: LJ Bechtel.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

Love me in the dark, where the air tastes of iron.
Roses here grow teeth, and they drink what they find.
Kiss me if you must, but don’t bring your faith.
Faith rots quickly, and I bury what rots.

Hold me quiet, suspicion at your throat.
My words are knives, and you lean into them.
I’ll cradle your chest, then hollow it clean.
Love is a trick. Trust is the rust.

Love me, don’t trust me. Take the warning.
I bloom in your ache. I choke on your fear.
Vows turn to ash, and ash to decree.
The moment you trusted me, you died.
©️®️ LJ Bechtel.

18.
Poem: “HYPOCRITE”
Poet: Aminu Femi Jamiu.
From:
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

He rose by the giggled of church bell,
Hasten upon the call of salat,
He’s the first to send the goodwill message,
He wore the most beautiful smile,
And amidst the banquet of friends,
He wine and dine at the cheers of glasses,
Yet, at the enclave of foes,
He let loose the barrel of critics.

With his flattered-cold handshake,
He expunged our encounter with boisterous laughter,
Hugging, sapping, pranking the air,
Behind the mask of sweet lips,
For He’s the real chameleon.

His countless decoyed lenses,
Dimmed the sun of our euphoria,
As he continue to overrun and
Sinking the already filled cup of our anguish
Just to mop out the flaws.

Like the lice upon the flesh,
He burrow beyond the barometer of togetherness,
To fan the ember of our pains.

Call him not a neighbor,
He’s harboring to awaken the scars.
Call him not a brother,
He’s just the bloodline
Breaking the bonds of trust.
Call him not a friend
He’s just a friend,
Sailing the ferry of doom.

Look, as he stood upon the eyes of man,
As if more purer than the snow,
But, beneath the rungs of exaltation,
He claimeth all,
But a bounty of dunes…
©️®️ Aminu Femi Jamiu.

19.
Poet: Parvinder Nagi
Poem: “TRANSCENDS OF DESIRES”
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

A holistic feeling entwined through passion and empathy
Casting a magic of elixir where melodies of soul stir into oneness
Experiencing the most profound intricate emotions
Unlocking the endless paths of light

Beneath the galaxies blue and vast
Love retreats the shadows dark
Through the hidden depths of true minds
Revisiting like the waves of ocean binding with shore

Awakening the possibilities renewing the transcending desires
Bitter sweet challenges exhilarating the gentle tremors
Like a balm to the healing wounds of a broken heart
Now dancing with eternal poise of sparkling love

Encapsulating ethereal and enchanting love
Fostering spaces cherishing redefined journey
Embracing unique moments unveiling souls beautiful
Loving in myriads of ways fulfilling dreams unlimited.
©️®️ Parvinder Nagi.

20.
Poem: “THE SOUND BENEATH STILLNESS”
Poet: Sanjit Gupta
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

She stands before the mirror in rain.
Raindrops whisper stories her lips forgot.
Her eyes hold storms and sunlight together,
Half breaking, half becoming whole again.

He sits alone in a quiet room.
No one asks, and he does not speak.
His silence sounds like thunder far away,
Rolling behind a steady face.

Both learned too early in life,
Silence keeps you safe from hurt.
So they live behind calm smiles,
Loving deeply, but saying nothing.

She runs her home, hides her fatigue.
He hides his chaos behind composure.
Both keep surviving, one breath at a time,
Together with the world, yet deeply alone.

Her mirror fogs, her breath grows slow.
His walls hum softly with memory.
Neither cries, neither asks for help—
They simply wait, without knowing why.

The fire inside doesn’t burn anymore.
It glows quietly, a soft reminder.
Their scars don’t hurt, they only speak,
In the quiet language of strength.

She no longer looks for light outside.
It now lives quietly beneath her ribs.
She no longer pretends to be calm.
Peace has learned her name at last.

One day, their paths quietly cross.
No words, no stories, no expectations.
Two silences stand face to face,
And something gentle begins to breathe.

Her eyes carry the first light of dawn.
His breath hums the song of dusk.
Between them floats a clear understanding,
Something beyond sound, beyond need.

They don’t try to heal each other.
They don’t ask, or promise, or explain.
They simply recognize the same journey—
The quiet return to their own selves.

Her calm no longer needs approval.
His silence no longer needs disguise.
They bow softly, without touching hands,
Like mirrors finally facing mirrors.

She, who became her own morning.
He, who learned to listen again.
Two shadows cross beneath one light,
And the world holds its breath.

No crown, no applause, no claim remains.
Only stillness—deep, bright, alive.
For when silence meets silence,
The soul finally comes home.
©️®️ Sanjit Gupta

21.
Poem: “In the mirage’s grasp”
Poet: Moammer Alsufyani
From: Yemen
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

“Oh palm tree, I have become an infidel to all you say.
I see the tremor rising above the sea, and you are fluttering beneath me.
Sing, oh angel, perhaps he will take comfort in the fear of your lips.
I am a human,
and I was created for the sake of…
not to accept humiliation, not even for myself, except as the Creator willed me to be.
My name and my life are the thirst of the desert.
Every day they dig for me, but the tools of their intentions will break in the mirage’s grasp.
I am the free one who dies for the sake of poetry to live.”
©️®️ Moammer Alsufyani.

22.
Poem: “NOTHING IN RETURN!”
Poet: Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai.
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

You filled up my life of failure and futility
You didn’t decry my slightest deficiency
You never took away your riches from me
I hardly crowned your copious empathy
I crashed them with my abashed apathy
Yet you pour your unconditional
kindness
When I crazily race ahead in utter vain
Desirous yet destitute in soul in entirety
It’s you who offer me everything I need
Never to get anything back in return
You always try to bind me with your love
I get away from your embrace once again
When I think of you I do lose you though
I see you right behind me as I look back .
©️®️ Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai.

23.
Poem: “The Blue Girl”
Poet: Saeeda Akhtar
From: Pakistan
Primelore Published Date: 14 October, Tuesday, 2025.

She is not a dream, she is the pause between two eternities
Veiled in blue silence where light forgets her name.
Every particle of cosmos bends toward her stillness ,and thoughts become an orbit tracing her unseen elegance

A hidden galaxy breathes within her.
Each emotion turns to a trembling star, each whisper of hers a celestial logging .
Time pauses at her feet as if creation seeks refuge in her calm.

Her eyes hold the mystic tone ,
where horizons meets the deep.
there, silence transcends and language dissolves_ unspoken , eternal.

She is the line where wonder meets existence where dreams finds their light and thought blooms like stardust
The blue girl _
neither mortal nor divine but the breath between being and forever.
©️®️ Saeeda Akhtar

Thanks again all our readers and writers from global staying with Primelore Writer’s Heaven.