Welcome Poets and Readers! It’s The 65th Edition of primelore Writerโs Heaven. Thanks, all writers and readers to participate on the poetry ship of primelore Writerโs Heaven. Please buy your Membership. All new poets are welcome and can submit three times free. Send your poem before Monday. Send with a Picture and a short Bio. Send to: jes2mine@gmail.com
Thanks again. Now read all poems from below:
01.
Poem: “SHE CHANGED THE WEATHER”
Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai.
From: Australia.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
She rose before dawn spreading the sky
Painted the seasons with her care
Morning learned devotion from her steps
Light followed the patience she laid down
Hunger stayed beside her like a shadow
Their plates filled before her own
Heavy rain struck her door and softened
Unwilling to wound such resolve
She asked little from the turning world
Only that love be practiced daily
Cold seasons loosened under her kindness
Ice forgetting how to remain hard
Now time leans into memory
Affection stands taller than loss
Every season keeps her warmth
And I live forward by what she left behind
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Vo Thi Nhu Mai.
02.
Poem: “TIME TRAVEL”
Poet: Mustafa Naci รZER
From: TURKEY.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
In a rural village, by the edge of land,
I dreamed my dreams when youth was close at hand.
Through bitter winters, blizzards cruel and great,
I dressed my heart with autumnโI would wait.
Each morning roses bloomed within my field,
My heart would surge, my eyes to fate would yield.
The love I chased would flee, avoid my sight,
I watched the roads for her return each night.
I struck the soil, the garden, day by day,
I wore myself to earn an honest pay.
I found enough for all to share and eat,
I asked if time would stand beside my feet.
Each year, goodbyes were dealt to me in turn,
Those I called โmineโ grew distant, cold, and stern.
My neck was bent by pain, by grief oppressed,
I watched and wondered: Will I rise upright at last?
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Mustafa Naci รZER
03.
Poem: “Love”
Poet: EVA Petropoulou Liano
From: Greece.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Love
Is the answer
Love of self King
Love of the Self Queen
Love
Without asking
Love with feelings
Love
Energy of free giving
Timeless
Universe
Wishes
Dreams
Love
Educate the childrens to give
So as adults they will receive
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ EVA Petropoulou Lianou.
04.
Poem: “My Happiness”
Poet: Afroza Jesmine.
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
I say, ‘Alhumdulillah’.
I have a head
I understand
Green and red
I have a heart
I am very smart. I love all in the world.
I have two eyes.
I am looking for love;
from the world to the sky.
I have two hands.
I want to do work.
for all ladies and gents.
I have a dream.
Rich, poor, all kinds of people.
We all together want to smile.
I have two legs.
I want to travel.
On foot from Bangladesh to the end of the world.
For everything.
I say, Alhumdulillah
I am happy.
My Allah created me.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Afroza Jesmine
05.
Poem: “THE SIMPLEIST THING”
Poet: Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri
From: Albenia.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
From words we made a sentence
And from sentences there is a meaningfull science.
But from step to step we advance.
We are so able,
For our readers to be understandable.
We can express our thoughts
And easier can find the best roads!
One day each path…
Can bring the exelent rezuluts on the math!
If we everything collect,
The best way we can select!
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri
06.
Poem: “Journey of Books”
Poet: Til Kumari Sharma.
From: Nepal.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Books are our core hearts.
Books are our close mates.
They make us good and thoughtful.
Books are wisdom creators.
They are our soul mates.
They are handling the world.
Books create the world of art.
Books give our world history.
The art is with books.
Our beauty of art can be found in books.
Book within the journey is spiritual.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Til Kumari Sharma
07.
Poem: “BULKA IMEMERSED IN THE SUN” (To the father)
Poet: Mirjana Stefanicki Antonic
From: Republic of Serbia.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
That man is not a miner
If he was a niner
My hopes would be cast in gold
That man is not a reaper
If he was a reaper
We would hve been together at every harvest time
We would have been counting the grain from the swolen ears
He would make me a cake out of every grain
He would put all the field popies in my arms
He would kiss my hair and laughed and laughed
That man is neither a mirer nor a repaer
Not even a cake
My witness is a poppy imersed in the sun
He is my father
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Mirjana Stefanicki Antonic
Bio: Mirjana Stefanicki Antonic was born in 1954 in Novi Sad, Republic of Serbia. She writes poetry, literary criticism, essays and short stories. She published sixteen independent books – eleven books of poetry, three books of literary essays and two books of literary criticism. She is represented in contemporary anthologies and also in common books of poetry, in literary magazines, art, culture and science. Her songs have been translated into several foreign languages. She is awarded for her poetic achievements. Mirjana is economist by education. She is a member of the Society of Writers of Vojvodina since 1997, and the Association of Writers of Serbia since 2019. Laureate of the 2025 Naji Naaman Lebanon Literary Prize 2025, honor prize for complete works, out of competition. Lives and works in Novi Sad, Republic of Serbia.
08.
Poem: “MY YEARS”
Poet: Kujtim Hajdari
From:Albenia
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
My years sometimes rage,
with manes high amidst the clouds,
sometimes they thunder behind with anger,
with foam and noise, with the fire of lightning.
I always had to chase them on the run,
even though they sprinkled snow in my hair,
often they poured me a glass of wine,
when I raised a toast with friends.
Often they broke a blooming flower,
stole the sun like a thief,
but still, they found me in the depths,
standing – a pilot with a parachute.
We never found a compromise,
no matter how much I sought, how much I tired,
to caress and adorn them,
they stood tall and still a storm.
They always continue like a ship,
we are like two rivals in a race,
sometimes they fall, sometimes I do,
but we always remained fighters.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Kujtim Hajdari
09.
Poem: “Children of peace”
Poet: Selt abderahmanand .
From: Algeria.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
my brothers. my brothers
come. come
to build our home
to build it together
habd by hand
foream with foream
and live the best dream
to build factores
we are makers
plant the farms
my father…my mother
the are the best present..
my God…
protect them forrer
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Selt abderahmanand
10.
Poem: “The Importance Of Girls Education”
Poet: Elpiola Lluka.
From: Albania ๐ฆ๐ฑ
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Girls are the air of life,
take care of them all the time.
To have as well a good wife,
education is the first prime!
Little girls are so innocent,
treat them well and be tolerant…
Freedom stays underneath our world,
covers our feelings with shining gold.
Let little girls to read more books,
it’s the most beautiful look!
A good behaviour has no price,
so let them learn to break the ice!
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Elpiola Lluka
11.
Poem: “The Weeping Planet”
Poet: Tanja Ajtic.
From: Serbia
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Freedom and sincere friendship
is not bought,
it is kept like the apple of the eye
as the most important wealth
and love, sincere love
it is maintained, with wonderful features
and actions towards the loved one.
Freedomโฆ
It’s hard to believe that someone is
free in the world today
as a word that reflects it.
It is needed more than ever
to the world, which is suffocating
from air and water,
from bombs, bloody footprints.
The whole world is just a little bit away
in prison – without freedom.
I’m worried! I worry for a long time
and I expect a miracle!
All my senses are very active
and nowadays very sensitive
and “sharpened”.
I expect – freedom, of the whole world,
but the darkness of the firmament pressed
little people on earth, where like ants
try to make sustainable colonies,
to simply live and survive.
Freedom, I’m calling her,
and the suffocating noise of the clanking of weapons
is preventing her from hearing me.
Freedom, don’t give up, echoes through the air,
don’t give us up!
I always believe that there is a way
out from the darkest tunnels and always a grain
of something good,
even if it was only my sincere wish that the world
will be free a place to live of all living things on the planet,
as the pressure rises with the air
carried by the wind across the planet
and brings tears.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Tanja Ajtic.
12.
Poem : A DREAM THAT I LONGED FOR
Poet: SOMDATTA MITRA.
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
A sunshine that anchors the day ,
Illuminates the dreams we pray.
In the silence a dream is cherished , a voice heard in a rite,
There aglows an anticipation for a mesmerizing moment .
When wishes weave into reality ,
And hopes unfurl like a morning flower.
A voice echoes from the soul ,
A divine vivacity emanates over the fulfilment.
Where aspirations like embers feel and stage an acceptability,
A magical song enthralls the charming appraises .
The breath of possibility turns into a emotional zeal,
As dreams like stars dazzle with its own luminocity .
I too hold my passion in my hidden folder inside my heart ,
As I uplift my vivacity to cherish the moment of enrapture.
Yes , I’m ecstatic today over this fulfilment ,
My son has returned from Germany over his scholarship earned.
A time that I have longed for so many years ,
Today I stand as a proud mother and embrace him.
He brought rainbows in my life ,
Where several hues design my contentment.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Somdatta Mitra.
13.
Poem: “To Archangel Michael”
Poet: Maya Milojkoviฤ
From: Serbia
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
To You, exalted Angel,
I pray and give thanks even in happiness.
Your eyes are a path,
your eyes are deep as the ocean.
Your sword is sharp,
cutting through all knots,
all pain and injustice.
Your wings are my protection โ
with them, mercifully and without touch,
you embraced my soul.
You have your army,
your path is the path of righteousness.
You granted me mercy
which I open only in the secrecy of the heart.
Last night, Your feather touched me,
sent through a guide โ
it makes incisions,
it hurts, yet it liberates.
My words flew like comets
in different directions,
seeking forgiveness.
Your words of comfort
guarded my secrets.
My heart is a witness
that coincidences do not exist:
with every wound there is a healer,
with every tear โ a hand holding a handkerchief,
with every cry โ a word of solace.
I know You protect me.
I know that when I wish to fall asleep,
Your prayer
becomes a call to awakening.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Maya Milojkoviฤ
14.
Poem: “A Cold Cup of Dream”
Poet: Ahmed Maliah
From: Iraq
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
(Translated into English
by Mustafa Al-Sumaidi| Yemen)
I know nothing of you but nothingness
Your shadow, drifting through the evening,
like an echo melting on the wind’s brow,
never awakes,
as if you are a mirage, forgetting
how longing should be fulfilled.
Yet I remain tenacious,
sowing roses on the lips of salt,
awaiting rainfall
On a land untouched by wetness
I know you are a page in shreds,
with lines trembling in silence,
a flash of lightning without rain,
an orphaned glimmer
In the eyes of passers-by
There’s weeping that never fades
etching a scar upon the heart
like a beauty mark
upon the face of the moon
TAKE all the just balance
we once shared, unawares,
the warmth of nights,
the smile of the sun,
when you lay bare
confession to the air,
our secret, hidden
in the oblivion of quietude.
Between us remains
a cup of coffee, still yawning;
its bottom holds a bleak dream,
a cold desire,
a wish dissolved
on the edge of loss,
beneath the ashes of the dream
The horizon has fractured,
hope vanished from your cloud,
I now erase you from my tongue,
from the utterance of my endurance
and straighten my wounds
as though you were nothing
but a lapse of rhyme.
15.
Poem: “Snow rose”
Poet: Muammar Alsufyani .
From: Yemen.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
The sun’s fingers lift the curtain of night
As if the blonde woman caresses her beautiful morning shamelessly…
She runs after it from the sky…
And the earth wakes up in that clamor.
Like winter’s ash scattered in the air
I sculpt a snowdrop from fire.
I see that cloud, a spring strutting in peace
On hearts behind the waiting.
I am the rain.
And I think I plant hope in the fields of illusion
To bloom above the autumn tree if it comes.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Muammar Alsufyani ๐พ๐ช
16.
POEM : “LIFE ASSCENDS THROUGH FROST.”
Poet: HILAL AHMAD MIR ( MIR HILAL)
From: KASHMIR,INDIA
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Chirping is again heard in the garden.
Desolation now breathes its final breath.
O Printemps has begun her fair journey.
Fog is nowhere seen; ice sheds gentle tears.
Spring always comes after the harsh winter,
Like the sun appears after the deep night. How blithely the thrilled trees are carolling!
The green Earth is beside herself with joy.
Streams are singing their sweetest tunes anew.
Buds, blossoms, flowers all dance jocundly.
How proudly the sun swaggers in the sky!
The moon with all her comrades revels now.
Listen ! Winter is not the end of life.
But the gateway to a fresh and new life.
Life ascends upward through frost and dark.
Spring sprouts from the deep shadows step by step.
17.
Poem: “I want you”
Poem: Valentina Yordanova.
From: Accordia (Bulgaria)
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
And I see you in shadows
and I hear your voice in
night sighs and
wind screams.
And the moon paints
your image with brilliance,
and the stars whisper
gently with trembling.
The grass is asleep
from fatigue of night
visions and hidden
secrets, but the flowers
are wake and still
thrill, smelling of
sunrises and love.
And with nightly longings
the darkness draws
rays of light
by which you can
find me โ there,
somewhere forgotten
the way to me.
(Translated by Yoana Konstantinova)
18.
Poem: “EMBERS OF MIND “
Poet: Parvinder Nagi
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Every memory woven in tenderness
Drifting through the gentle flicker of laughter
In the last moments of life
The echoes of the surging brain
Replaying the sensations of warmth
Echoes of deepest memories
Gathering the scattered embers
The minds last flickers of consciousness
Surfacing with fragments of love
Reminding that youโre not alone
Re- living memories past
Graphics of neurons finally falling apart
In a grin when the world
grows thin
Shredding the voices
you recognised
Searing through lost memories
One last time cherishing
that every thing ends!
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Parvinder Nagi
19.
Poem: “HOW CAN I MEASURE YOUR LOVE”
Poet: Irena Jovanoviฤ
From: Zajeฤar, Serbia
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
How can I measure Your love, my Lord
so broad, unique, live, and intense…?
What can be used as a measure unit
by which I may so explicitly,
definitely express a quantity of bliss
excellence, brilliance, quintessence
deliciousness, magnificence
refineness, omnipresence, and
how can I grade and find some words
for a constant growth of endlessness
in Your heart, oh, my beloved…?
Mild winds of Your love caress
my intrinsic soul’s peacefulness.
I joined Your divine alliances
in wish to upgrade my elevation
but how can I measure Your love
immeasurable, eonianly everlasting…?
On every occasion, an invasion of beauty
an ocean of gratitude…
Please tell me
how can I do it?
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Irena Jovanoviฤ
20.
Poem: “When Hunger Knocked,It Knee Us”
Poet: Zulfiqar Hamdam Awan
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
When Hunger Knocked, It Knew Us
There was a day
when hunger stopped counting
and started remembering.
It no longer moved through reports and charts,
no longer hid behind percentages and trends.
It came softly,
pronouncing names correctly,
standing in doorways
where hope once hung its coat.
It knew which child slept facing the wall,
which mother watered soup
to make it last one more night,
which father learned silence
because apology had grown expensive.
Bread was no longer missing
it was mourned.
Water was no longer scarce
it was negotiated.
Dreams learned to eat less
so the body could survive.
We were not poor in theory.
We were poor in the morning,
poor at dusk,
poor in the sound a stomach makes
when it argues with sleep.
Hunger sat beside us,
not as a monster,
but as an uninvited witness
to everything we tried to remain.
It watched dignity improvise.
It saw generosity survive
on empty plates.
The world still spoke in numbers,
comfortable, clean, distant.
But numbers cannot feel
the shame of borrowed rice,
cannot carry the weight
of explaining absence to a child.
That day, suffering refused anonymity.
It insisted on faces.
It demanded eye contact.
It carved memory into policy
and conscience into obligation.
Because once hunger knows your name,
you are no longer invisible.
And once poverty learns your address,
the lie of distance collapses.
This is not a poem asking for pity.
It is a record.
A reminder.
A quiet accusation.
If hunger can recognize us,
so can justice.
If poverty can memorize our lives,
so can mercy
if we choose
to learn the names back.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Zulfiqar Hamdam Awan
21.
Poem: Singing ๅฑๆญ
Poet: Chen Hsiu-chen ้ณ็ง็
From: Taiwan.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
In the van bounding for Pristina
the group of poets sang in laughter all the way
while I was watching the scenery outdoors
in the melody ups and downs.
Most of leaves have turned into yellow or red
those two warm colors are gifts for the winter.
As we went across the mountains of Kosovo
it emerged in my mind from time to time
the pink capsules of Taiwan Golden-rain Tree.
Happy songs drive away the fog.
When asked to sing a Taiwanese song
I was so flustered that
could not find a folk song completely remembered.
Finally, I barely sang a section of
sad โrainy night flowersโ.
Is it because
a sad Taiwanese
so I could not find a happy song?
๏ผTranslated by Lee Kuei-shien๏ผ
็ง็
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Chen Hsiu-chen ้ณ็ง็
22.
Poem: “With a Button Press”
Poet: Mustafa Abdulmalek Al-Sumaidi
From: Yemen
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Pierce my head
and you’ll find your portrait there,
hung upon the wall of my brain,
clutching my consciousness
within the folds of its frame.
Each and every word I utter
is imbued with your luminous face,
emerging with your flavor,
your fragrance,
your color.
Obsessed with you is my mind.
Have you shackled it with chains,
so that none may enter my language,
but youโthe warder?
You have mastered the art
of governing my thoughts at will
until I grow no longer able
to endure myself.
Captivated by you
to the point of devastation,
of fragmentation,
perhaps of gradual annihilation.
Pierce my head.
There lingers an air
steeped in the scent of your breath,
fashioned from imagination,
from nights’ heaving sighs,
from the panting of long distances,
from the very first tear of a poem.
Now, high-enriched like uranium,
be brave enough:
take a matchstick,
explode me all at once.
I wish to leave behind
no trace of my own body,
save the radiation of blazeโ
a lesson left for those
who journeyed long as I did,
without a fulfilled meeting,
for those who come after me,
lovers so wretched.
Pierce my head.
Unburden me of my labyrinth,
grown colossal with you.
Pleaseโnowโฆ now!
Explode me
with a button press,
with one message.
Only one message.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Mustafa Abdulmalek Al-Sumaidi
23.
Poem: “I lost my pencil”
Poet: Daniel Omar
From: Nigeria
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
A Calamity appeared, straight curbed my life
A land breeze shouted at me as a melted knife
Therefore, followed by a sea breeze, deeply safe
Then buried my way
They werenโt aware of the time they took it away
Even cooked my stomach like a fallen droplet
Of honey among ants.
The dark cobber closed my eyes, yet
Reback the sweety deeper sour life embalmed in me like gigantic ink
lost on an empty plate, nothing to recover
My diversity to conquer the link.
It was my respiratory system that pumps oxygenated blood through the muscular heart, which contains four chambers.
Right and left arteries and right and left ventricles
It was an ocean that blew permanently
Unsaturated gold, which flourished me daily.
A mango juice satisfied my thirst
A gorgeous tool, bright and shining deeply
It wasnโt only a mere pen but a deeply melodic
A bridge for me to travel and aid people in need
But I lost everything that I possess
For me to progress
And left me an admirable dress
to sweep my stress and paid me loneliness.
Both dwell on a path for me to excel
freely I stay with an imagery and
Searched it in a dictionary
At last, I hold it with an empty spoon hidden in the library.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Daniel omar
24.
Poem: “THAT’ THE MIGHTY LIFE!!!”
Poet: S Afrose
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Don’t forget dear all
What’s your role on this earth?
You have to protest
Each and every demon’s rite.
Fight for the purest smile,
Till the smile of the righteous earth.
That’s the mighty life!
Wow! Dear mighty life!
Still can feel
That soothing reel,
When life will be bloomed
As the free lotus,
Midst the dangerous ocean
Without any pain and fear.
Cool! The mighty life!
That’s the mighty life!
What’s your need?
Know?
Fame to fame and so so-
And then,
Anytime, can be the desert.
So?
Life will be doomed forever.
Ah! The life!
Lost the chance of mighty life.
Let’s sow the seed.
How can lead the life
With strong strength into the mind?
For fighting with demon’s site
Faith on the Love of Dear Almighty, at last.
Wow! That’s the mighty life.
Finally can get peace, dear mind.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ S Afrose,
25.
Poem: “When the Hands Finally open”
Poet: Sipra Debnath Tultul.
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
I held my past like a stone
tight-fisted, trembling,
afraid that if I dropped it
I would lose the last proof
that I had survived at all.
But stones grow heavy
when carried across years,
when placed where hearts
should breathe instead of labor.
I didnโt notice the weight
how it bent my spine,
how it pulled the sky farther from my reach.
One morning,
without a reason or a sign,
my fingers loosened.
Not from strength
but from exhaustion.
And there it was
the stone rolling away,
quiet, unresisting,
as if it had been waiting
for this moment of release
longer than I had.
My hands felt strange
empty yet light,
aching yet alive,
as though they were learning
their true purpose for the first time.
In that open space,
a wind moved through me
soft, forgiving,
like breath returning
to a body that forgot
it was allowed to heal.
Letting go wasnโt an act
it was a surrender.
A doorway unlatched.
A sky unburdened.
A beginning finally brave enough
to step into itself.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Sipra Debnath Tultul.
26.
Poem title : “THIS LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL”
Poet: Dibang Mary
From: Nigeria.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
This life is beautiful
not because it is gentle,
but because it keeps breathing
even after it breaks us.
It teaches with scars,
writes lessons in loss,
and still offers mornings
that insist on beginning again.
There is beauty in surviving the night,
in laughter that returns without permission,
in hope..quiet, stubborn
sitting beside our fear.
This life is beautiful
because it does not promise ease,
only the chance to feel deeply,
to love recklessly,
to rise again and again
with dust on our knees
and light in our eyes.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Dibang Mary
Bio: Dibang Mary is a Nigerian poet, author, and journalist whose work focuses on human emotion and social realities. Her writing combines clarity with literary depth and has been published in Brittle Paper, The Global Times, Kalahari Review, and Hello Poetry.
27.
Poem:”County FOOLS!”
Poet: Fenan ponfa
From: Nigeria
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Have you ever wondered,
Why county people
No longer keep their own
Clowns at home?
In my time,
The fools in the county
Crept slowly among us.
But nowโ
They crab into news lines…,
Buffoons are headlines!
“Let my fool be”
County folks will say.
Flying their posters in media posts
No shame! No shy!
… at 60 Live on air!!!
Doing what they know best – foolery.
And now …
Local dunces are
INTERNATIONAL…!
Do you still wonder
Where the wander started?
From the Halftwits county.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ fenan ponfa
28.
Poem: Sorrow release it, Don’t borrow
Poet: Rajeshri Senapati Gogoi
From: Dibrugarh, India.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Sorrow when we are
Sometimes minds becomes narrow .
You twist and scream out
Feeling low without any words
Still longing and searching for God .
In these world of different indentities
Sometimes there are rules
For someone and no rules for one’s
Oh, the fake faces of Trinity
I sulute, your grudges of injustice
For nothing so, unbreakable rules.
For Sometimes for someone
The rules may change
To consider and make it unseen
In someone’s misconduct.
And for sometimes for someone
Little breaking is a crime
Anything may be possible
In these fakeful world.
But, trust in God
Never replace your soul.
Because the almighty test it
To become you more stronger .
Good is the lesson you get
Because, God removes
The unwanted people from your life.
Oh, In these selfish world
Straight one’s are shoted first
And, Sometimes ,Someone you faith
Gives you boxes of trustbreak .
Sorrows release it, Don’t borrow.
Sometimes you my feel, feet sliping
Sometimes you feel , heart pumping
But, Still keep faith in God and
Let your soft soul of your body
Love what it loves .
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Rajeshri Senapati Gogoi
29.
Poem: “Imagine”
Poet: Diep Daphni
From: Hanoi, Vietnam.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Best
Imagine
I look at you, from afar
With a jar of honey in your hand
The command of love
Golden and sweet and liquid
I feel you, from afar
My heart marches
Into notes
I row a boat, with your jar of honey
Through the muddy water
Into sprinkled spring, in just a blink.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Diep Daphni
30.
Poem: “NOTHING IS IN MY CONTROL !”
Poet: Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Even a nap has become stranger to me
A kind of enmity with peace does exist
Having met you I have lost my entity
Donโt know why nothing is in my control
Can anyone at least explain it to me
The way a patch of cloud stops at hill top
The way waves do take birth in the sea
Likewise my eyes stop at a face unknown
With the promises of the whole world
I am undone for nothing is in my control.
ยฉ๏ธ ยฎ๏ธ Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai
31.
Poem: “Bog Fading”
Poet: Dustin Pickering
From: India.
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Go ahead, God,
take everything!
You gave me nothing
and it was never mine!
The swagger of my jaw,
the grape divine,
take it all,
I am poisoned with memory!
I suck at the poppy
and
shuffle off the silence.
I am going to die
in the sorcery of secrets
when I wake
from this terrible dream
the grief
must part from my skull.
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Dustin Pickering
Bio: Dustin Pickering is founder of Transcendent Zero Press. He has contributed writing to Huffington Post, Los Angeles Review, The Statesman (India), Journal of Liberty and International Affairs, The Colorado Review, World Literature Today, Asymptote Journal, and several other publications. He is the author of numerous poetry collections and books including Salt and Sorrow. He placed in the top 100 for the erbacce prize in 2021 and 2023, and was a finalist in Adelaide Literary Journalโs first short fiction contest. He was longlisted for the Rahim Karim World Prize in 2022 and given the honor of Knight of World Peace by the World Institute for Peace that same year. He hosts the popular interview series World Inkers Network on YouTube and co-founded World Inkers Printing and Publishing.
32.
Poem: “PEACE!”
Poet: Maria Kolovou Roumelioti
From: Greece
Primelore Published Date: 23 December, Tuesday, 2025.
Rivers of tears
in the vast seas of pain
they pour out…
Within the dense foliage,
hand bullets, fireballs
they kill your dreams.
Blood and sweat on your bare breasts.
The cheerful light of love
drowning in blood
in dirty clothes.
Mothers who are overcome by pain
They long for a different air.
to dry the ombyo…
The stabbings of your brothers,
Peaceโฆ
ยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธ Maria Kolovou Roumelioti
Thanks, all Poets and readers to participate in the edition of Primelore Writer’s Heven.
