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This Is โThe 49th Edition Of Primelore Writerโs Heavenโ.
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Now read all following poems and enjoy
more from our 49th edition of Primelore Writerโs Heaven.
01.
Poem: “THE TIMELESS BEAUTY OF ASSAT CASTLE”
Pet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai
From: Western Australia.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
the castle rises with its dignity
the stones carved by centuries of love
built in the twelfth century
it guarded Bรฉarnโs eastern border
watching noble soldiers
and the river crossing below
the Gave de Pau flows nearby
steady and luminous
a mirror of mountain light
fruit trees spread their shade
birds lift their voices suddenly
and pathways curve beneath green canopies
guiding wanderers into serenity
a bridge of the nineteenth century
stretching with grace across the water
opens a view to the piedmont
and the far Pyrenees
the fortified town keeps its church
its smooth rhythm of life
I am here feeling the peacefulness
waiting for the reflection in my soul
for the beautiful moments passing slow
and poetry to be born from these instants
ยฉยฎ Vo Thi Nhu Mai.
02.
Poem: “RAIN”
Poet: Mustafa Naci รZER.
From: TรRKฤฐYE
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Rain falls
A thousand dreams are lived
In green gardens
On concrete sidewalks
On wavy docks
Smoke rises
From long chimneys
Mixes with the clouds
Collapses on the misty slopes of the mountains…
Green is silent, yellow is resentful
Red roofs and long roads
They have become so indifferent
Gray has dominated all emotions
The heart is silent
The heart is hazy
The heart is pitch black…
Smoke rises from the burning heart
Waves beat against the hair
And rain falls from the eyes
On rosy cheeks…
Hands yearn
Feet stubborn
Eyes look with emotion
Ears at the sound of rain
Then… and then an endless horizon
Remains in my palms…
ยฉยฎ Mustafa Naci รZER.
03.
Poem: “Dreaming”
Poet: Afroza Jesmine.
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
My first child (A child of GAZA);
Sitting in the mud in the yard, he was scratching with something.
Sometimes he drew long lines, sometimes he made circles as he went around.
Out of new curiosity, the child kept scratching one after another.
The yard is slowly filling up with different shapes of scratches!
There is no empty space anywhere.
This is my baby’s first art exhibition!
I am the only audience at that exhibition!
Now the child, standing in a corner,
breathed a sigh of satisfaction,
I saw a small stick in his hand.
With which he had been drawing pictures all this time.
I saw him as if he were the famous “Picasso”!
He stood there, exhausted, with a brush;
After a while I looked and saw that he was actually
The “Mona Lisa” has that famous smile painted for so long.
But my child can’t be “Leonardo da Vinci” without it!
I’m thinking of buying him a paintbrush tomorrow.
But today I don’t have a handful of rice in my house;
Whatever I get at the end of the month,
I can barely last for two weeks.
The rest of the days I spend half my life on debt.
Tomorrow I have to pay the child’s school fees again;
I’m thinking that I’ll pay his salary with whatever
I have leftover food from buying first.
Children are visionary when they dream!
They will become great artists like “Picasso” ,”Zaynul Abedin”.
But we have a big shortage!
I can’t buy him paint brushes at all.
ยฉยฎ Afroza Jesmine.
04.
Poem: “Speaking for food”
Poet: EVA Petropoulou Lianou.
From: Greece
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Bombs are coming in my left
Bombs are coming in my right
The smell of a coffee becomes a dream
People are targeted
Suffering
Starvation
Hypocrisy the cry for freedom
Governments they are counting their money
Over the bodies of dead children
Do you want this life
How much Human you feel today
We are all victims in the mind of narcissist
men with power
Peace
Unknown word
ยฉยฎ EVA Petropoulou Lianou.
05.
Poem: “Can you please love me 2?”
Poet: Solape Adetutu Adeyemi
From: Nigeria.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
This journey hasnโt been easy
Unplanned,unsought, unsolicited
A journey bordering on the after life
A journey of the unexpected
When we took our vows
When we said weโll love each other forever
This journey was never envisaged
I remember fervour in your voice
As you said youโd love me, forever!
In sickness, in health
Till death drives us apart
The intensity behind the words
You swore five years back
Haunts me as slowly I waste months on my hospital bed
Now your eyes barely meet mine
My hugs, tolerated, seem out of line
No longer can you bear the sight of me
Your manner says you would have me gone, your eyes wonder why I’m not yet done
On this journey to the afterlife
Where I can no longer be your wife.
I am sorry I no longer look elegant
I am sorry my hair falls off in clumps
The hair you loved, the best part of me
Is gone like yesterday, with nothing to see
Strength, weight, hair all gone
Your love gone too would leave me undone
I need you more than ever
Need you to say you also suffer
Please hold me, don’t let go
Let your love warm the coldness of my feet
Let your love death’s insidious advance defeat
Hold my hands, kiss my brow, bring me joy as you’ve always done
So when I go into the cold dark night
It will be your love that will keep me warm
Can you do these for me, my love?
Can you be mine, empathize and from me all guilt for leaving you, absolve?
ยฉยฎ Solape Adetutu Adeyemi
06.
Poem: “THE WAITING TIDE”
Poet: GrEaTnEsS
From: Monrovia, Libria.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
I sat where silence meets the sea,
a wooden throne beneath dead me.
The waves kept whispering soft goodbyes,
beneath a bruise of endless skies.
I waited there for love, or God,
or some last voice to beat the odds.
But time it wore my flesh away,
a tide that never meant to stay.
Storms passed and still I stayed the same,
a hollow ghost without a name.
Hope clothed in bones and tattered thread,
alive in spirit, long since dead.
The sun forgot its rise one day,
the stars grew hollow, pale, and gray.
Still I remained through night and foam,
a shipwrecked soul with no way home.
And if you find me, let me be;
some waits are sacred, even at sea.
Not all storms are meant to cease,
some souls find peace in never-peace.
ยฉ GrEaTnEsS.
07.
Poem: “THE POSIBILITY”
Poet: Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Maybe I’m not a poet
And not a rich artist…
But so long as teacher,
I can be one of the best scientist.
From the early childhood,
I do comparisons
And living as in woods,
We have large horisonts.
I lived in different periodes,
As we were under foreign regime
And we had no methods,
To be ourselves and legitime…
For that I respect freedom and independence,
It is my real sciense!
ยฉยฎ Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri.
08.
Poem: “I Love You Like the Stars”
Poet: John Sidiropoulos
From: Greece
Like the Stars Beloved
My Heart is only given to you.
I Love You Like the Stars
Beloved
Give me your heart my girl your spiritual charisma
and let me in your arms tightly
my heart tell you my soul about your beauty
we burn, Oh Beloved give your heart the desire.
Bio:
John Sidiropoulos was born in Veria, Greece, on November 28, 1991. . His English- language poem LOVE stood out in Morocco in 2024, under the editorship of Mohamed Ellaghafi, and was included in the international poetry anthology A Global Poetic Anthology โ The University of Moroccan
ยฉยฎ John Sidiropoulos.
09.
Poem: “She.. a wolf warrior,”
Poet: Sparkz Heart.
From England
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Embracing the powers of spirit..
A loner but social,
She has won battles
spiritual and physical,
Spiralling out of control,
She stands her ground
against All odds,
Why? And How?
Because she wears her scars proud,
transmutes hurt into peace..
Peace for self,
Heals through helping others,
A warrior of light through the darkness.
Empowering minds and healing hearts..
Illuminating others to believe in themselves,
a force to be reckoned with,
wolf warrior of the wise,
She is the light.
ยฉยฎ Sparkz Heart.
10.
Poem: “O My Lady Love”
Poet: Khursheed Wani
From: Jammu and Kashmir.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Among the golden beaches I will walk
Of sand trails a criss-cross
Certes, I will choose the path that shimmers
I will walk barefoot as I thirst for your nest.
One of the beauty signs I am crazy about
O my lady love, I will feel the redolence
I, Iโll take you with me
And we will sail on the blue ocean.
ยฉยฎ Khursheed Wani
Bio: Khursheed Ahmad Wani is a teacher, poet, author and reviewer. His debut poetry book ‘The Seraphic Garlandโ was published in March 2023 and his poems have appeared in International magazines and Anthologies. It includes Wheelsong Poetry Anthology 1 and 2, Emerald, Addiction, ILA Magazine, Prime Heritage magazine, Our Changing Earth etc. He is from Kashmir, India. Last year, he won the International Academic Award for Contemporary Literature – Lucius Annaeus Seneca โPrize De Meritโ award for his creative poetry held at Bari in Italy.
11.
Poem: “Destination”
Poet: Carol Robertson.
From: Jamaica.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
Cooling down under Ms Mattie”s big tree
boy! the time was really hot, and it could almost blind me
beads of perspiration ran rapidly onto my neck and then under my turtleneck shirt
I almost wanted to take them off
but what would passerbys say if they saw me in my bra and undies and high heels
the ride from downtown was rather long, and I almost nearly fell,
hoping for someone to desperately give me a seat
I held onto the rail, exasperated and numb with pain
I squeezed my face, wanting the bus ride to end from its long combustion fast drive
she looked at me
a woman near around my age
only she had numerous wrinkles on her face
a kitten cried somewhere somehow, maybe it was an error or some missed device or someone singing
my high heels, tip forward, and then backward, and I held onto the railing tight
I sat under Ms. Mattie’s big tree boy! the time was really hot, and it could almost blind me
I finally made it to my destination.
ยฉยฎ Carol Robertson
Bio: I actually started writing poetry when I was 21 years old and participated in Jamaicas cultural expsoures that includes jamaica cultural development commission , tastee talent contest, and Ms university (uwi) beauty peagant and now currently a participant in the jcdc short stories and poetry.
12.
Poem: “Sitar drop of Impermanence”
Poet: Alex Dieppe.
From: Hanoi, Vietnam. ?
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
The drop of sitar falls, it falls like โWhen we were young, love is easyโ, โEasy, I know.
I understandโ; .
it gets broken like โNow things are different. I have grown up. I knew. I understoodโ.
The drop of sitar it falls, it falls through the echo of space,
soft and bitter like broken hearts, willingly accepting of the inevitable parting,
like a thing supposed to come will come.
Like an arguing couple waking up after sleeping realizes
they could not look at each otherโs eyes over the breakfast table and forks and knives.
Like this irreconcilable difference will never get to reunion as once upon a time of the youthful and carefree
and zest and zeal and ease.
The drop of sitar it falls, it falls like the tinkling of the chimes clashing with reality,
grey and stifling as the renunciation, of the boredom over emotions, habits, acts that are incompatible,
unsynchronized, unsympathetic, unloved, in a space that used to be filled
with the love of a couple and the laughter of a child;
The drop of sitar it falls, it falls into infinity, impermanence,
invisibility. Invisibility like union and parting, like never known,
never loved, never acquainted, never committed,
never holding hands, and never vowed;
ยฉยฎ Alex Dieppe.
Bio: Alex Dieppe was born in Ba Ria-Vung Tau, Vietnam on September 6th 1978. She got her BA in International Business at the top school in Vietnam. She was among the first two pupils awarded with PAD: The German Governmentโs Scholarship for the most outstanding German study in Vietnam in 1995 She was the only student who had been chosen by the US Embassy to translate for the Secret Services of the US Government during the historic visit of President Bill Clinton to Vietnam in 2000. In 2005, she was awarded with โThe Most Creative Employeeโ title by the late billionaire Patrick J. McGovern, who was the Founder and Chairman of the then International Data Group. In 2006, she finished the three-month Buddhist course on the Middle Way at the International Buddhist Academy. She was also trained in Sir Goenkaโs mindfulness techniques in Thailand. Later on, she enrolled in multiple online courses on various subjects, from quantum technologies to biotech, to creative problem solving and creative writing provided by IVY colleges in the US.
13.
Poem: “The Mirror”
Poet: Anthony Hoyle
From:ย Manchester.
Primelore Published Date: 02, September, Tuesday, 2025.
When the comedown hit
and he snored through the crash,
She sat there waiting โ
no tears, no flash.
The slap she had placed
still burned on her skin,
Anger her language,
and now it began.
She paced the floor,
mirror tight in hand,
Venom coiled
like a loaded gland.
He stirred awake,
she drew it close โ
Not to strike,
but to make him know.
But the mirror was cracked
and the image distorted,
It showed only fragments,
all jagged and sordid.
She held it out
as if it could teach,
But what she feared
was just out of reach.
Because the mirror was hers โ
and she never dared look.
Sheโd skimmed every chapter
but closed the book.
Too much pain
in the pages she wrote,
So she weaponised it,
choked on her throat.
She kicks herself,
thinks sheโs failed again,
Too heavy to hold
what she still canโt name.
If only sheโd faced
what the glass revealed,
Not passed it on โ
not left it sealed.
But facing your truth
takes more than a glance,
It takes war with your past
and the will to advance.
So I made a vow
to break the chain,
To hold my mirror
and take the blame.
To be what they need โ
not what I was shown.
To unlearn the damage
and carve out my own.
ยฉยฎ Anthony Hoyle
Bio:
Northern working class guy, I got into writing to make sense of my upbringing and subsequent relationships. Iโm influenced more by musicians than poets, so some of my work comes across as gritty as opposed to conventional.
We got more new poets in the edition of 49th . Thanks to all our Old and New poets staying The Primelore Writer’s Heaven.Our Special Edition is the 50th. All poets are welcome to our free submission of 50th primelore platform. Always send your poem before Monday.Send to jes2mine@gmail.com
