Welcome to “PrimeloreVerse”
Embracing a New Horizon with PrimeloreVerse
Following the historic milestone of our 100th edition, we are thrilled to enter an exciting new chapter. To honor the overwhelming love from our global writing community and to elevate the creative standard of our publication, we are evolving. Welcome to PrimeloreVerse—our newly envisioned fortnightly literary journal published every Sunday.
Transitioning from a weekly format to a bi-weekly showcase allows us to curate a richer, more diverse spectrum of global literature. While poetry remains at our core, PrimeloreVerse expands its sanctuary to embrace short stories, insightful essays, and profound literary expressions from creative minds across all continents. This space belongs to every storyteller who uses words to shape human emotion. Publishing on Sundays gives our readers and contributors a peaceful moment to pause, reflect, and immerse themselves in remarkable craft. PrimeloreVerse is more than just a name change; it represents a dedicated global universe where every genre finds a home, and every literary voice finds an audience.
Thank you for walking this inspiring path with us. Dive in, explore, and celebrate the endless power of literature with us every two weeks.
Editorial Board
PrimeloreVerse
01.
Poem: “THE PATH OF PEACE”
Poet: Mustafa Naci ÖZER
From: Türkiye.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
One day, all the sounds of guns must finally cease,
Let every breath of this world be filled with peace.
Let human hands reach out in brotherhood and care,
Let the dawns of peace bloom in every heart everywhere.
Let us ask no more about color, language, or belief,
Being human is enough; the rest is small and brief.
Let a friendly hand reach out to every broken place,
Let the sun of love bring light to nights of darkest space.
Let children laugh again without the sound of bombs,
Let mothers shed no tears while waiting for their sons.
Let them grow together with hope, without any fear,
Let the world find brotherhood, keeping love always near.
Let flowers bloom upon the mountains, bright and free,
Let the seas remain forever deep and blue.
Let love bloom in every heart, friendship in every soul,
Let people love each other and make humanity whole.
Let East and West meet around a common table,
Let every language of the world embrace when able.
Let the poison of separation disappear from every heart,
Let love write humanity’s destiny and give a brand-new start.
Come, let us be brothers; this world is our home,
Let love be our language wherever we may roam.
Hand in hand with friendship, let us overcome our fear,
Together let us make our world more beautiful each year.
For the world belongs to all of us, beneath the same sky,
The same sun warms the heart of every passerby.
May one single wish resound across every land:
Peace, love, friendship…
May humanity endure forever, hand in hand!
©® Mustafa Naci ÖZER
02.
Poem: From Heaven
Poet: Afroza Jesmine
From: Bangladesh
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I know,
Someone will come,
He is a stranger,
He is a player.
He is a singer
He is a writer.
He is an artist
He is a poet
He loves himself
He has a piece of paper,
He is drawing a rose
He is writing a letter
He mailed the letter to himself.
He touches the sky,
He feels the moon’s love
He is crying with himself
He is smiling with himself,
He is mad
He is Innocent
He is from Heaven.
©® Afroza Jesmine
03.
Poem: how I speak
Poet: Mary Garde
From: Canada.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I speak my words and when I say I mean it with every beat of my heart
reading me you might think those words are pretty suggestive it’s true
I open up when speaking out loud
the things I mention have been inside me
tucked away they didn’t climb out I spoke in distinctive ways
its poetry
expressed with the very best intension
when my words come on the page I’m going to expel
them with intention
to draw you in and hopefully
you will love my story
©® Mary Garde
04.
Poem:WHAT THE POEM LEAVES BEHIND
Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai
From: Australia.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Everyone leaves something after their hands disappear
I leave words playing a tune in the shelf
A poem remembers whoever touched its darkness
Each line is the passionate wave in the sea of her eyes
Perhaps poetry is a garden blooming in spring
We plant one word inside another heart
Then something changes after we depart
The poem is shy to ask for rememberance
A stranger may find shelter inside words
A wounded heart may be healed through poetry
A child may discover magic between lines
Someone may walk our poem through darkness
Someone may hear themselves within our melody
This is why I write when I have special feelings
I write for the wind to carry my verses
Through the forest and over the sea
©® Vo Thi Nhu Mai
05.
Poem: Love
Poet: EVA Petropoulou Lianou
From: Greece 🇬🇷
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Love
First you need to understand the energy of giving without waiting for the rewards
Love,
Second you need to accept yourself and try every day become a better person
Love
We are here to be loved and love unconditionally
Love is a free energy who is coming from inside your inner soul
Your body once feel loved is an very high level where it feels like it is flying
This is the absolute connection with the divine
We are close to God once we’ve stopped to overthink and trust completely the Divine word
Love
I am the Alpha and the Omega says to us
As we are connected with the Divine
Love can only be multiplied
So do not afraid to give love away
Because God will always give you light and love through your heart
Love yourself
Try to achieve your dreams
Be with people who love and support you
©® EVA Petropoulou Lianou.
06.
Poem: Blossoms of Phalaenopsis
Poet: Shangguan Changfeng
From: China
Translated by Lan‑Xin Samei
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Dedicated to Lan Xin , In the Name of Purity
Phalaenopsis are in bloom,
Beneath the morning glow of Wenbi Lake.
Blossom after blossom,
Like letters from the snow‑capped mountains,
Sent down unto the mortal world.
Pure and immaculate.
Nothing but whiteness,
Nothing more, nothing less.
Nothing but wholeness,
Nothing wanting, nothing excess.
That pristine heart,
Grown from this very land.
The Dongba paper knows it,
That bamboo brush knows it.
Every first stroke upon the page,
Is a seed,
Slowly awakening through the night.
You plant these seeds into poetry,
Into the crevices between two languages,
Upon the invisible road stretching from Hunan to Lijiang.
Thirty years long,
You have walked yourself into a river,
Carrying those ancient characters,
Flowing toward souls who scarcely believe in the moon.
White butterflies rest upon your shoulders,
Their wingtips trembling gently —
Blessings taking flight from the Dongba scriptures.
They utter no word,
Simply abide in whiteness, simply exist.
With their pure radiance,
they bring soft closure to a love that has traveled far.
This pristine heart is no garden‑plucked flower.
It grows of itself from this land steeped in healing.
Every petal
is a thought of love and compassion,
resting lightly in your hands.
Today the wind breathes soft.
Sweet osmanthus shall bloom in a few days,
yet phalaenopsis are already in full flower,
blooming just right.
Like your well‑tendered gentleness,
your unyielding resolve,
and the perfect way
you have graced this world
through all these years.
©® Shangguan Changfeng
For Lan Xin’s birthday
At Dongba Culture Academy, when osmanthus is soon to bloom, September 5, 2026
07.
Poem: It didn’t happen
Poet: Hany Alfham
From: Yemen 🇾🇪
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I never deliberately gouged out my eyes,
Nor did I plant a woman in water…
The colors of the rainbow peeled from my blood;
So you could be the last flower of spring.
The sun never slapped me
While I was naked…
A palm tree in the desert of my heart, unlike me,
Let this summer dry up its days;
So the hands of the clock don’t become
Like a police chase movie.
I never experienced dying standing,
Or urinating on a car wheel
Parked by the sidewalk
Like a dog…!
©® Hany Alfham
08.
Poem: The Eagle Fears No Heights
Poet: Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)
From: China.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
The Dongba scriptures tell
The eagle fears no high mountains
The steed fears no long roads
Fame, to the eagle
Is a burden bound to its wings
Hindering its soar
The true eagle
Never takes flight weighed down
It casts aside all earthly temptations
To rush toward the vast firmament
The eagle that spreads its wings to rise
Much like an aircraft taking off
Its ascent from the ground is the hardest part
Breaking through veil after veil of dark clouds
Passing through wave after wave of air resistance
Once it surmounts countless barriers
Rising above blue skies and white clouds
Auspicious clouds unfold
A scene of pure serenity and grace
So it is for the wanderer who is like an eagle
If you belong to the boundless world
To the lofty realm
Ride the wind ninety thousand miles upward
Roam across the land bathed in rosy glow
For — the eagle inherently belongs to the boundless sky
To soar on outstretched wings — is its way to meet the world
©® Lanxin Samei
09.
Poem: Where Light Begins
Poet: Menda Vreto
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
To love is to step softly
into the hidden world of another,
without pretending to know their pain.
It is to hold our words
like water in our hands,
knowing that a single word
can become a caress or a wound.
It is choosing not to judge
what we have never experienced,
and listening to what silence
lacks the courage to say.
Every face carries a night
that other eyes cannot see;
therefore, kindness
is a quiet form of courage.
Leave no scars where you pass,
but leave a little light.
Perhaps this is what love means:
to pass through another’s life
with hands gentle enough
to break nothing.
©® Menda Vreto
10.
Poem: Sleepless Nights
Poet: Til Kumari Sharma
From: Nepal
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Many nights were/are dark.
My mind was tired.
My struggle taught me to be silent.
The dark shadow may snatch my peace.
Many nights were mysterious.
Tears made the sea and flooded.
The tired eyes are bringing memories of dreams.
Many nights were alienated with unfinished dreams and aims.
No need of sympathy for my strength.
Nights were journeys of light to bring consciousness.
The combination of dreams and tears has made the building of an art.
There my art is secured to be alive.
My nights were secured often with fear and tears.
When I started to close my eyes dark shadows made me unhappy to bring the tragic pain of my mind.
Nearly I was sick and made the layers of art to revive from the ashes of life.
Nature clothes me with ethics.
Nature consoles me with savings.
My eyes are tired of sleeping with unfinished dreams.
Nature clothes me to secure my fame and ethics.
Nature worships me to rub my tears and she worships my dreams since she is my sharing partner and bosom mate.
©® Til Kumari Sharma
11.
Poem: HUMAN ALONE IS TRUTH
Poet:Sarwat Zabeen Lubna
From: Bangladesh
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Why are humans so strange – turning suddenly into serpents,
With venomous fangs of envy, scratching pride with ruthless claws?
Raising their hoods, revealing their hidden and restless face,
Drained by false words, false readings, and lies they embrace!
They say ‘M’ means Man – the greatest among all creation,
But in which battle have we proved our noble declaration?
We place balm upon another’s wounds with a gentle disguise,
Yet burn our own skin with hatred beneath the skies.
Humans do not live within buildings of stone and steel alone,
Falsehood and envy dwell there, with hollow souls of stone.
Behind the walls of pride and glittering human show,
Empty balloons of ego continue to grow.
Seeing those beside us running, we begin to run too,
Without knowing our own path, or what destiny will do
. Two eyes, two feet and a head do not make a human whole,
Only sacrifice within the heart can purify the soul.
We, the humans of today – strange and heavily unaware,
Brave in the paradise of foolishness, trapped in despair.
Ignoring the moments when time calls us to change,
We stand still, watching destruction arrange.
Above all, humanity is the ultimate truth we know,
There is no division of birth where human hearts grow.
The time has come – let us remove every mask in sight,
And sing together the eternal song of unity and light.
©® Sarwat Zabeen Lubna
BIO: Sarwat Zabeen Lubna is a Bangladeshi born architect, poet, storyteller and rhymester; former lecturer at Khulna University and AUST, founder of Nibashath Architects, Bellowari Adda and Bachcha Sahitta – Kachcha Sahitta and CEI in theE city of Lauderdale lakes, Florida, USA. A Member of Academy Farsala, Greece . As a Global Ambassador, she has received Doctor Honoris Causa in Humanities (2026), many major international awards, and numerous literary honors.
12.
Poem: Humanity and the child
Poet: Martha Vaskandira
Translation: Elias Nassiopoulos
From: Greece
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Our century was handcuffed.
Fortune tellers sell out vision for a few more oracles,
the arenas became virtual,
laughter was sold to the clown of habit,
and humanity is looking for a good shirt to look beautiful.
Slaves dream.
The deposits of the ideals are money transferred
stacked behind arrogant, ambitious mirrors.
The Pontius Pilate forgot their hands in the sea,
and humanity wonders why it doesn’t fit in its own shoes.
Hypocrisy redeemed the light of freedom,
The years, hunched, go by without rise in their gait,
and humanity looks out of the window at its life going by.
A child hung his crib on the tank that burned his city,
playing next to death without fear.
A child the country, a child the earth, a child the universe,
undressed the war.
And love smiled.
Now humanity can leave its home again
©® Martha Vaskantira
13.
Poem: Autumn
Poet: Bai Gengsheng
From: China.
Translated by Lan Xin
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Autumn clings high up in the firmament,
rainbows fade, rains subside;
Autumn hangs upon treetops,
sumac leaves, golden persimmons;
Autumn suspends from roof beams,
fresh meat, harvested grain;
Autumn is sealed inside earthen jars,
pickled greens, brewed wine;
Autumn is inscribed on human faces,
smiling brows, bright white teeth.
Autumn,
combed stroke by stroke by golden winds;
Autumn,
summed leaf by leaf upon the boughs;
Autumn,
tilled and tempered ridge by ridge by plowshares;
Autumn,
conducted stalk after stalk by straw!
Autumn is no ending,
autumn is but a new beginning;
Autumn is no retreat,
autumn is an eternal advance!
Autumn prepares for winter’s store,
autumn prepares for spring to rise once more.
©® Bai Gengsheng.
14.
Poem: Three Days Were Enough
Poet: Concetta La Placa.
From: Italy.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Three days were enough for us,
but not just any three.
Only those three,
lived in the very eye of a hurricane of love.
It took just those three days –
something we’d never have imagined –
to savour Love,
the kind that revives.
We lived through three strange days,
to feel love –
the kind that breathed new life into existence,
reigniting it.
It took those three unique days to realise
that, deprived of that life-giving balm,
like a leaf without sap,
the heart would slowly wither away.
©® Concetta La Placa
15.
Poem: THE GIRL’S SILENCE
Poet: Kujtim R. Hajdari
From: Albania
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
In the cool air at the end of night,
she gathered whispers like weary birds;
joy, like a fallen autumn leaf,
trembled on her silent breath.
Sparks of laughter
began to gleam like stars upon the water,
while the promising dawn, rising,
held faith in its palm like a flag.
The soul of the girl-lantern, trembling in the wind,
hung over dreams like dew on the grass;
she, fragile among the shadows,
forgot the night in the embrace of daybreak.
Deep within her, hidden hope
awaited the first rain of light;
her heart creaked like an old gate
that slowly opened, hugging the morning.
Dawn gazed at her like a silent painter,
brushing the sky with the colors of tomorrow;
the curtain of night slowly withdrew,
and her silence turned into song.
©® Kujtim R. Hajdari
16.
Poem: The Educated Girl
Poet: Andromache Benekou
From: Greece 🇬🇷
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
The girl has for school worship
she wants to be good mother
not only the boy in social leadership
boys and girls helping each other!
I hear a happy sound
the girl from the house escape
it is an excellent idea and profound
the love participate in this shape!
The educated girl has clever mind
can behave better and she is kind
and of course it is predicted
how she win illiteracy, as she insisted.
The educated girl can work and fight
so she chase the poverty night
she can change the existing reality
she upholds the talks of peace mentality!
©® Andromache Benekou
17.
Poem: Dress Made of Water
Poet: Young-Eun Kang.
From: Jeju Island
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
As I climbed a hill and then looked down,
The blue meandering sea
Taught me how to swim.
At one time,
The clear sea’s body blew out poison.
That day when the poison sank deep,
The sea taught me how to dress.The dress taught me how to love to denude myself.
The dress was a body for me.
I became a woman by taking off my dress.
The dress taken off me or others often tumbles.
In the midst of the city
Which tumbles more forcefully
As the waves become higher,
Today too I swim serenely.
The dress I was taught not to take off carelessly
Has bequeathed the sea to me.
Young-Eun Kang.
18.
Poem: SEPTEMBER TEA
Poet: Muammar Al-Sufyani
From: Yemen
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
A perfume led me
from among the months
to the destination of pen..
by the rope of its history
and it assassinated my silence and from there..
I announce the loss
of a sugar cube in the cup..
the yellow leaves
are September tea..
to live in every blood..!
©® Muammar Al-Sufyani
19.
Poem: The Treasure of Dried Fruits
Poet: Syed Shah Hussain
From: Pakistan
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Almonds are rich in vitamin E, oils, and more.
They keep skin, hair, and hearts healthy to the core.
Cashews are packed with B6, magnesium, and protein.
Lowering cholesterol, they keep the heart serene.
Pistachios offer copper, magnesium, and zinc,
Potassium, Calcium and iron, a healthy link.
They fight diabetes, cholesterol, also reduce weight,
Boosting immunity to keep you feeling great.
Apricots bring vitamin A and E to your plate.
With magnesium and copper, they rejuvenate.
They’re good for the eyes, the bones, and the heart,
A nutritious fruit, gives weight loss alert
Dates, with fibers, iron, and energy to spare,
Boost hemoglobin , gut health with care.
Hazelnuts, full of vitamins, minerals, fats, and protein,
Protect cells, lower cholesterol, and keep insulin keen.
Walnuts are rich in omega-3 and antioxidants bright,
Reducing stress, protecting heart health outright.
Raisins are treasures of iron for digestion’s flow,
Treating constipation, anemia, and helping you grow.
Prunes with sugars and nutrients build muscle and bone,
They lower cholesterol and keep blood pressure known.
Figs are packed with nutrients, health they ensure,
Improving breathing, bones, and reproduction for sure.
©® Syed Shah Hussain
20.
Poem: A Long While
Poet: Babacar Ndiaye
From: Sénégal
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Time, that elusive mystery we chase,
Stretches and bends, a chameleon in space.
How long is “a long while”, the heart will ask,
When waiting wears a sweet, lingering mask?
In the shadow of hope, the minutes crawl,
A heavy silence binding up the soul,
Yet in the shelter of a love sublime,
A century fades in a spark of time.
The long while of two lovers on the deck,
A shared coffee, a warm embrace, a speck,
Is it the same as for the weary mind,
Watching the sky, for days left far behind?
Time changes gowns with every path we tread,
In summer’s heat or where the frost is shed;
Each season tints the hour, a shifting hue,
As time obeys the truths we’re passing through.
Upon the fleeting tree of lives we spend,
These quiet, frozen moments are a friend
Like islands anchored in a restless sea,
Our longest whiles are gems of memory.
©® Babacar Ndiaye
21.
Poem: Always there is things writing never says it.
Poet: BOUTI MED.
From: Algeria
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
In writing like in love
We need precise scalpel
To dessection the feelling passing
Maybe we need some small wings
Like ant’s wings
To get misery unrelentingly
While we are trying to fly
Without doing it
Maybe we need long rope
To hold it in our midst
While we go down to the far bottom.
We need more time outside sleep
To dream more in vigilance.
We need some time to write
And all the language for love
In writing we need sharp scissors
to avoid idiocy .
In love we need needle
and soft thread for extreme care.
In writing im not trustee to sun
if it skating outside of orbit.
In love, be moon’s guard
and the shepherd for all of galaxies
without eyelash… outside night.
In writing put the dots on dots
Make the sky your palms
In woman’s head… that woman
If The sun suddenly raided her
In writing you have to burn
the dry leaves around you
then carve from that ashes, hope’s tool.
Snowman without gloves.
In love to put your hand
In the pocket of the snowman
To pull a bunch of fresh charcoal
and matchstick .. incendiary language
There is a woman ,
That woman …. Frost kills her.
In writing to sweep the clouds
from your lowest sky.
In love to remove all titles
And you also write on a stone that you left behind.
Leave without destination.
In writing it depends….
To mute the moments of breath
untill you scream inside, like the flute inside water.
In love don’t say anything
while you are resort to heavy noise
In writing…
To give morning some dress,
Serrated memory and floral robe
And colorfull balloons
And a gray field.
In love to undress things.
To take off from her foot
That woman .. her light sandal
to enjoy the goldfinches jump
without trying to pull anyone from them.
Outside of the woman
In writing .. to believe in you
In love….. to believe of her
©® BOUTI MED.
22.
Poem: The Silent Guilt
Poet: Dr Muhammad Ishaq Abbasi
From: PAKISTAN
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
The evening faded all too soon,
Beneath the sky’s pale silver moon.
I wandered through the forest deep,
Where Nature seemed at rest, asleep.
I sat upon a lonely stone,
With quiet thoughts I called my own.
When sudden wings cut through the air,
An eagle struck from hidden lair.
It seized a hen with ruthless might,
And drew her into deadly fight.
Though weak, she struggled, brave and true,
For helpless chicks she dearly knew.
They fought beneath the darkening sky,
Where echoes carried every cry.
But strength prevailed, as fate decreed,
And left her lifeless in her need.
The eagle tore her fragile frame,
Unmoved by pity, void of shame.
I stepped ahead—but could not act,
As fear and shock held my heart back.
Above, her chicks began to cry,
Their voices rose in mournful sigh.
Their tiny eyes, with sorrow filled,
Spoke of a love so purely willed.
Their falling tears upon me lay,
As if they whispered words to say:
“You saw it all, yet chose to stand,
Instead of giving her your hand.”
The forest hushed, the winds grew still,
As grief obeyed a silent will.
She gave her life in love so deep,
While I stood by, my soul to keep.
With heavy heart and lowered gaze,
I walked away through shadowed haze.
For guilt had carved within my soul
A wound no time could make me whole.
©® Dr Muhammad Ishaq Abbasi
23.
Poem: The Ark
Poet: Yeon Myung-ji
From: South Korea.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Maori warriors flattened the lands won through bloodshed
and named it the South Island.
When the giant bustard flapped its wings,
the roots of the grassland trembled even in the wind.
On New Zealand’s earthquake island, isolated at 00:02,
three white-faced cows.
This tiny island of earth, where everything collapsed leaving only just enough,
is it God’s planned ark?
Counting toward infinity, then snap, short by the number 3.
Into that very plan, God drags the three cows.
The crumbling and cracking vast land is no longer a pasture for the cattle.
Like those times, excluded from the game of hopscotch at dusk,
the abandoned herd of cows.
The cows, puzzled by the suddenly narrowed field, comfort one another.
The cows can no longer go up
nor go down; nibbling on grass, they are peaceful for now.
The cows do not know God,
yet calmly, they rub their flanks together and graze.
That silent endurance of the cows.
Every crack in the world is a tear shed by God.
©® Yeon Myung-ji
24.
Poem: Whispers of love
Poet: Xrysoula Foufa
From: Greece
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Quietness all around
in the dead of the night.
Only the whispers of the hearts
sing the letters of love.
They write the tune of its songs
during days and nights
away from the crowds
in the silence of the universe.
No pompous utterances
no profound words.
Love is purely expressed
by whispers to the senses.
They keep the magic alive
tenderly to the skin of the souls.
In mutual trust
in mutual agreement.
©® Xrysoula Foufa
25.
Poem: I Am Poem
Poet: Bertha Galán
From: Bolivia.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I am a poet, here I stand…
tree of diaphanous freedom,
from my verses light springs forth,
a bud of roses,
leaving an eternal perfume.
I am a lake of serene spirit
I defy the winds in their flight,
wings spread open to the sky!
I am Art of a thousand ancient muses
I share my voice with the world,
with landscapes of devotion
I treasure harmonies of gold
at the far edges of time.
The beauty of art awakens me,
unbreakable, with a green aura,
blessed by sacred verses!
©® Bertha Galán
26.
Poem: Pack Strength
Poet:Amb. Dr. Tomasz Laczek
From: LUTON UK
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I broke out of the darkness
By the power of light I arose
Love gave me a white wolf
Support the power of souls several
The wolf showed me the way
He proved to be a great believer
Many times I fell low
He woke up and I rose
I’ve come a long way
Then I got to know my whole world
She had sky blue eyes
Now he walks by my side
Our hearts beat with fire
The souls of wolves live in us
We don’t bow to anyone
We calmly follow the common path
Love warms hearts
The banner of freedom is flying above us
She gives me the feelings of her heart
Thanks to her, he does not give up
The she-wolf and the wolf beat by force
They live by the community of souls
Hearts of feelings are invincible
Forever supported by white wolves
Now the four of them run
Loves support each other by force
Whether in the sun or in the dark
Their power is the strength of the hearts of unity
Their paths will part one day
They will go through the further route separately
This is how a strong wolf pack will be created
She never wavers in feelings
We continue to walk together
We believe in the power of hot blood
Time is inexorably running out
The wolf with the she-wolf in the light disappears
©® Amb. Dr. Tomasz Laczek
27.
Poem: WE ARE WAITING
Poet: Shaip Z. Zeqiri.
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
So long we had a great hope,
To have justice and equality as in Europ:
But we waited to long,
Something was going wrong!
Since months we are protesting,
From day to day, it’ s going to be more interesting…
We just listen to people’ voice,
I think there can’ t be any other choice.
Peopke know better what is inside,
Not any other force can decide!
God save our country ,
From foreign scenaries and dictatory!
Our nation loves freedom and indipendence,
On our side is God and science.
©® Shaip Z. Zeqiri
28.
Poem: Sorry I Couldn’t Thank You
Poet: Maheswor Paudel
From: Kathmandu, Nepal
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
I was scanning a newspaper with some sips of regular tea.
Almost all pages spoke about the muscle war between and among macular countries.
China, Russia, India, Pakistan, Iran, North Korea in one column.
USA, UK, Australia, EU, Ukraine, Israel in another one.
Who outweighed whom? Pages were filled with all calculations.
These nations boasted their nuclear weapons as they could annihilate the other in a few seconds.
A denizen of a tiny geography like Nepal which is almost unknown to billions of earthlings, I never wished
I joined the race of these abundant countries.
I was contemplating our inabilities: no factories to emit smokes, few vehicles on the road that too
thousands being EVs, no harmful chemicals being processed, and little use of polythene.
A tiny nation surrounded by green forests supplying oxygen to the world,
filled with wildlives preserved with meticulate policies and care, abundant in water resources,
bordered by snowcapped mountains, ventilated the planet.
Alas! I smelt something terrible in my teacup and before I could take the last sip I was swept away by the tsunami-like flood that originated from the wombs of the industrially abundant, mighty tech-rich giants who devoured the nature and released the commodities to sell them in the global market and accumulate wealth.
I lost my home, my family, my pets, my small farmland, and eventually myself as the price I had to pay for my sincere efforts to save the planet.
Should I thank the power centers? I’m sorry I can’t do that because your deeds didn’t even let me get cremated as per my rituals.
©® Maheswor Paudel
29.
Poem: The Alphabet of Rain
Poet: Saeeda Akhtar
From: Pakistan
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Today, the rain did not call me by name.
It simply placed a single drop upon my open palm.
I leaned closer, searching for a letter,
but found only a quiet fragment of light.
And I understood then
that the sky writes its deepest truths without ink.
Every raindrop is a word that makes no sound,
falling beyond the earth, into the hidden chambers of the heart.
The soil receives it, not as water alone,
but as a humble prayer returning to its source.
Perhaps this is why every green leaf rises like remembrance,
and every fragrance carries the meaning of an unspoken verse.
I have learned the alphabet of rain.
It has no letter for hatred,
no grammar for defeat.
Its language is surrender,
its rhythm is flowing,
its direction is always toward the light.
And when the rain finally falls silent,
something of it remains within us.
The last drop does not touch the ground.
It falls quietly into the soul
and keeps falling there
long after the sky has cleared.
©® Saeeda Akhtar
30.
Poem: They Have Gone
Poet: Juli Spahiu
From: Kosovo 🇽🇰
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
They are gone…
and the house has fallen silent,
as if even the walls
can feel their absence.
For a little while,
my home was filled with life—
with the voices of my children,
the laughter of my grandchildren,
with little footsteps
that awakened my soul
and brought peace to my heart.
I had them close to me,
and for a while,
distance and exile felt far away…
I didn’t count the days,
I counted the moments.
Every morning was a joy,
every evening a blessing,
every embrace a treasure
I never wanted to lose.
But the holidays came to an end…
and that day arrived—
the day no mother ever wishes to face.
They are gone.
The suitcases were packed,
the goodbyes lasted longer than usual,
and my eyes tried to smile,
even my heart was breaking.
I waved goodbye,
but they took a piece of my soul with them.
Now,
the house is still the same,
but the voices are gone.
The toys are still there,
but little hands no longer touch them.
The door opens and closes,
yet I still wait
to hear:
“Mom…”
And the tears fall on their own…
I don’t ask why,
because I am a mother.
A mother never truly gets used to goodbyes.
She only learns
to smile through her tears,
to wait with longing,
and to keep every last embrace
safe within her heart.
They are gone…
but their love
has remained here,
in every corner of this home,
in every beat of my heart.
And I will wait.
Because mothers
know how to wait for as long as it takes…
when, at the end of that waiting,
there is an embrace
called my child.
©® Juli Spahiu
31.
Poem:A New World
Poet: Yusuf Amusa
From: Nigeria
Primelore Published Date: 13 September Sunday 2026.
Where everything will be in order
Where there will be peace
Where there will be no pollution
Where there will be no diseases
Where there will be no class
Where there will be no oppression
Where there will be no injustice
I want a new world
Where everything will work perfectly
A new world
Where there is no pain
Where there is no sorrow
Where nobody will be homeless
Where nobody will be jobless
Where everyone will be comfortable
Where there will be no corruption
Where there is no selfish interest
A new world
Where honesty and integrity reign supreme.
©® Yusuf Amusa
Thanks all poets and readers
