Poems for The Month of Feb




Hidden harmony of an aura

inwrapped years in an endless sea

I open my eyes

I don’t want to dream anymore


I feel like traveling together

on an endless journey

in the quietest part of the earth


On silent lips

we experience the soul

Living in the viscera, living in the stone

Living in the wilderness and on the streets with kisses


Red, yellow blue scattered

pieces of little sky tumble calmly in the first state


Tangled flashes of light hang on the horizon

 from our will

© Kapardeli Eftichia, Greece


Death ray

Poem dedicated to Nikola Tesla


In the Croatian village of Smiljan,

in the family of a God-fearing priest

in July, a genius was born.


In a child’s mind

God lit a spark of wisdom

and He watched how quickly

the fire burned the old world


The lad

rose high above mediocrity.

The strength of knowledge

opened the door to a great mystery.

In the depths of scientist’s mind

the creative process took place

and humanity received

technical wonders as a gift


It’s him

tamed energy and invisible waves.

He moved the voice to thousands of miles

that an audible whisper

could sound out loudly

and wooden boxes spoke

like magic ones in the  fairy tale


On Orthodox Christmas in 1943

the precious black thick  notebook

with a dangerous endorsement

 “government affairs”


– like a ray of sunshine at night


God picked up Tesla’s wings at the New Yorker Hotel.

America has robbed his estate.

Nobel Prize was destroyed by quarrels and defects.

He returned to his homeland in the modest urn.

© Alicja Maria Kuberska, Poland



Silence in the house

night creeps in from outside

all the lights are off

and the door is open wide…


Silver moonlight

twisted trees

broken streetlight

chilling breeze,

empty armchair

open book

burnt-out candle

chimney soot


footprints amiss,

a long-forgotten kiss

lingers across time

echoing the hours’ chime


nowhere, yet everywhere

everything, yet nothing.

© Anna Fletcher, UK

[bctt tweet=”footprints amiss, a long-forgotten kiss lingers across time echoing the hours’ chime” username=”incsoflay”]

Other wishes …!

When love dies, something breaks
a lotus willow and the woods are overwhelmed by sighs.
Silence is emptied of unsaid words secret conundrum, woman’s soul.
Strange people created by nature,
follow the instincts as in self-creation
Anxiety abounds, infinite doubt
they are always tempted by other desires
and forget how divine love is!

© Marjeta Shatro Rrapaj

[bctt tweet=”When love dies, something breaks a lotus willow and the woods are overwhelmed by sighs.” username=”soflay_inc”]



who loved me by now

all loved me badly

only you caresses, kisses me well

and also your smile is good


when the passion grows high

if we say goodbye

the distances crucify us

the words kill quickly


you are packing me in your bag

it’s wonderful to travel with you

you are cementing our life together

we become two halves of a whole

     translated by István Dabi



Nature’s call

Dewdrops on unfolded petals

with a pristine promise of purity,

an array of flowers in colors beyond description

enveloped by billows of human smoke.

Sunshine gazing through green fields—-

edible emeralds yielding chemical food chains,

feeding corporate conspiracy.

Fertile soils of organic seeds

bearing fruits of avarice,

the water becoming a toxic liquid

quenching the thirst of the affluent

in the name of civilized trade

dumping the sanity of humanity!

Trees cut down with broken promises

offering our offspring

a spring of fallen leaves

and abominable air to breathe.

© Brindha Vinodh



Like clouds in March

sometimes white as white doves

others like gloomy thoughts

or the colors of a starless night

your moods

so many times I thought

to let you go

to get away from you

from your odd bizarre ways

what binds me to you

your unhappiness

your desire to fly

while having no wings

so many times

I offered you my hand

you grabbed holding it tight

but just the buzz of a mosquito

the flapping of a bird’s wings and

forgetful you lose your way

blindly keeping going on

the mind full of airy dreams

towards your void life

your sad loneliness

© Maria Miraglia




I looked for mushrooms

didn’t find the forest


giving sign from the window

throwing out only crumbs

into the wind


 we are travelers

in the moonshine

each line

is a confession

approaching to the infinity

my grandfather the joiner is sweeping

sawdust and shavings

the acrid fragrance of the forest is following him

on the cellar floor

and secrets sliding away


           Translated by István Dabi

© GÁBOR CSEKE, Romania

[bctt tweet=”we are travelers in the moonshine” username=”soflay_inc”]




Deeper the moment, only a single one

    Brings the warmth of His blessed grace,

Not before long all bondages it can shun,

     No hurdle on the divine – way is to face.


The realization of the Supreme’s expressions

       Fills man’s whole vessel with sheer delight,

He is immersed leaving all earthly possessions,

       Divinity is awakened and time to take flight.


Meditate so deeply to tap latent energy

      Like river times just fly leaving all behind

A thrill vibrates the whole being with synergy

      Walk on the path forgetting things that bind.


And then dive into the deep Absolute zero

      Be easy, calm, serene and piety bursts on,

 In a while, thou emerge radiant like a hero,

       No flux of thoughts whirling within drags on


 Blessedness goes on flowing in mind and soul

    Taking man upwards in a state of beauty divine,

 Dust gathered thru ages loses ere reaching the goal,

    Abundant joys around come up with a rare shine.

© B. S. Tyagi, India

[bctt tweet=”Meditate so deeply to tap latent energy       Like river times just fly leaving all behind” username=”soflay_inc”]



Do not touch the erogenous zones of my poem

with your piercing gaze

because you could ignite love in it

and wake up the evil spirits of lust


do not touch the erogenous zones of my poem

with your restless fingers


it could use you voluptuously and immorally

as it would an addicted girl


do not touch the erogenous zones of my poem

even with the smallest movement

because it could  pine away with excitement

it could have an immaculate conception

and give birth to a guardian angel


do not touch the erogenous zones of my poem

with whispers

because it could blossom

to become the most intoxicating fragrance

sown them across the universe

and induce a sexual revolution

© Ibrahim Honjo, Canada



We become indifferent

to the human next to us.

We do not notice

that someone

only pretends to be strong.


With pockets full of

unfinished business,

desires and uncertainties,

maybe we also often

wear masks?


With hope we expect

that we will not be alone,


we look out for

 normality

in abnormality.

© Eliza Segiet, Poland


I clean my voice

I clean my voice

From love vocabulary

I cut the nails of yearning

One by one

And color my lips with the red color

Of the blood that came out of them

I scatter the letters of waiting

Placing a letter before or after another

Then laugh joyfully with my victory over its fragile sound,

Its dots which got scattered like beads of a rosary I got bored of

I clean my voice from passion’s roses

Those walk every day towards their death

In a book

That is why I shorten the road for them

Crumble them, wither them in the eyes of futility

My ancient friend

I clean my voice from kisses, hugs, from the desire

From everything that cut its vocal cords

Out of yearning’ stammering.

I clean my voice from love vocabulary;

The night bites my Adam’s apple

Turning me dumb.

© Shurouk Hammoud

[bctt tweet=”I clean my voice from kisses, hugs, from the desire From everything that cut its vocal cords” username=”soflay_inc”]

Friday night

Just me, my cat and TV.

I cry for I carry an empty space

inside me.

In the glow of a single lamp

I look at the silent phone.

The soft hum of the silver screen

is just an irritating reminder

that one more night I will sleep

alone in a huge bed.

Until you come.

For the moment I will taste the joy

in your embrace,

knowing I will let you go as usual.

I’m lonely…

© Katarzyna Georgiou, Poland



Life is a gift from God,

An enigma for every human being,

A roadmap to the Universe,

The path awaited

by each and every being.


There are ups and downs,

Sunrise and dusk horizons,

The joys and sorrows,

The desire for the future is strong.


Life is love and a hug,

Dreams that spread rainbowlike.

The story is both

the beginning and the end,

Where miracles happen.


Life is a fragile bond,

Promising happiness,

To owe it is a blessing

Wherever a man lives…

© Šolkotović Snežana, Korbovo, Srbija


Pure form

I am sitting at the dirty

train station

thinking about you


dirty thoughts

in the purest form

a train is

coming leaving


a cleaner has washed

the floor

I am walking along

a corridor


pure profit



  Above all


Above all

we are children;

don’t quarrel

with religion.

All boys and girls

equal to us;

we together

el sing a song.

We are beyond

good and bad;

tell mother

with a nice tune.

We live in

same light air;

always we want

the affection of the elder.

© Suranjit Gain, India


The Days Dwelt in the Old Hut


By selling patrimony in a hamlet,

obtained an old hut in conurbation;

Originated new life nearby brooklet

Menages felt as in seventh heaven!


Master as a penny-pinching and mistress

Relinquishing her aspirations for little ones;

Though inmates being in a hut never felt distress

Thus life of kinship group as blissful as fabulous


 One night with cloud burst, rain droplets plummeting

All-over into the hut; no room left over for housemates

Except a nook in a room, seeming at quivering little ones

Master felt torment and determined to secure a domicile for little ones


After a few years, little ones became young ones

Acquired heavenly home; dwelling lives blissfully;

Swiftly awful days set foot into home, scattered family

The Master felt remorse and recalled beaming days in old hut.

© Dr. T.Ramesh Babu




My fatherland petrified in me, my teeth are falling,

Drought make crackle the trees, my tears flow,

My face is like codex with wrinkles of pain,

My ancestors are carving crosses, moy song


Trimming coffin, where wild winds are grabling,

The stars are jangling, drumming alarm,

The dreams are running away, on my body burning freckles,

As herd of buffakosm the past is eating off my present


Last blade of grass is the torch in my hand

Birds of sky singing are burning to ashes, workers’ hands,

Volcanic mud squirting to the sky, the Sun is screaming

We created from dust become dust, so is the end


Nevertheless I want to be reborn and live here,

To have here house, fatherland and to reach you with my smile here,

Where from one syllable I understand the facts and the words
Dancing on my lips are spreading out light and life

             Translated by ISTVÁN DABI


Millions of letters in the air
floating as breath
out into the cavity of the soul
millions of letters grow
praying for lush of rain, river and the sea
millions of letters adorn
the sun, moon and stars
but no one could touch
your dirty, dusty skin.
Millions of fathers
millions of mothers
but you still are
idle naked
cold and lonely.
©  Sosonjan A Khan

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