01.
Poem: “No War”
Poet: Mary Garde
From: Canada.
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
midway throught
this year
time flies by
it moves so fast
the world takes so much time to gain enough power to make a difference
poor homeless wandering souls suffer
generations never
have seen
what peace looks like
how can they know
how to live safely
on their own land
a place to lay their heads that will be
still there tomorrow
they need
a stable place to be
where nations
can build again
what they have lost
from constant conflict
what is in store
now that the gates are closing everywhere
people have to reverse their trek
return from where they started through perilous places they have known now they must
try to make it home
if it is possible at all
©® Mary Garde
02.
Poem: “FRIEND BOOK”
Poet: Mustafa Naci ÖZER
From: Türkiye.
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
The voice of my loneliness,
It teaches me so many things.
Gently, kindly, pleasantly,
A heartfelt story is a book.
News comes from my distant past,
Crossing all the roads of time.
It guides me toward my future,
A light in darkness is a book.
It introduces my ancestors,
And brightens all my little world.
An endless treasure full of wealth,
Every book is richness untold.
A friend is always by my side,
Sharing secrets one by one.
At home, in school, or in the village,
A book looks at me like a friend.
It gives knowledge willingly,
If you greet it as a friend.
Multiplying precious values,
Every book is generosity.
In sorrow and in times of joy,
At every desk where people work,
Throughout the world in which you live,
A book becomes a faithful friend.
©® Mustafa Naci ÖZER
03.
Poem: “BEFORE DAWN ARRIVES”
Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai
From: Australia
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
before dawn arrives your presence already the colours the air
a single thought of you
turns ordinary hours into gold
as if even time itself
has softened its edges
you arrive like through half-open curtains
gentle enough to soothe the storms
strong enough to change ocean waves’ patterns
some connections can’t use words to express
even promises and grand display
don’t worth a smile on your face
such a marvellous thread
pulling two souls toward wonder
even distance loses meaning
when something rare feels this real
across poetry, across communication
there is passionate recognition
and in this strange beautiful world
among endless passing moments
there is something extraordinary
about finding someone
who feels like destiny and freedom
©® Vo Thi Nhu Mai
04.
Poem: “Friend”
Poet: Afroza Jesmine
From: Bangladesh.
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
Bangladesh!
Our sweet Bangladesh!
She is my motherland
She is my bossom friend;
Only my best love;
My Bangladesh she is!
Frouits, flowers,reavers and all our poples;
Really nice in the world.
I love my Bangladesh and I;
Enjoy with my people.
No reason for my love, to my;
Darling Bangladesh!
So sweet my Bangladesh.
So cute my Bangladesh.
So beautiful my Bangladesh.
I love you, my dear Bangladesh.
©® Afroza Jesmine
05.
Poem: “Before you exist”
Poet: Eva Petropoulou Lianoy
From: Greece.
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
Before you exist
You were a thought in my soul
Before you speak
I understand your words
For years
Loneliness was my companion
See the stars
Make wishes
Hoping
Before i met you
I knew your parfum
Before you speak
I understand your soul
See the birds
Make wishes
Pray
Before you imagine
I draw a circle
I see you in and me
Protected
Blessed
Before you kiss me
I feel your lips
Your body
A fireball
Burning me
Slowly
Before i leave
I will never say goodbye
©® Eva Petropoulou Lianoy
06.
Poem: “I Went Out Tonight to Breathe Fresh Air”
Poet: Hind Al‑Hassan
From: Yemen
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
I went out tonight to breathe some fresh air.
On the way, within sight, there were young boys about eight to eleven years old.
Absorbed in building a house out of wet mud.
Their hands were covered in mud, their features tightened with astonishing seriousness,
As if the instinct to build is born in a man before he even grows strong,
As if the boy, from his earliest childhood, is fascinated by the idea of making something arise from nothing, of
putting stone upon stone, of leaving a small trace that says:
“I passed by here.”
I watched them for a long time.
And so immersed was I with them that I felt I wanted to guide them,
Even though I know nothing about architecture.
But just watching their enthusiasm was enough to motivate me,
Because they acted like real builders, with their serious faces and total absorption in what they were making.
I even thought about joining them to build.
Because children awaken in us the childhood hidden in our souls.
A little girl inside me still believes that a mud house can be a great enough project to deserve enthusiasm.
And not far from them stood an older boy, perhaps nineteen,
Talking softly on his phone,
Looking sometimes at the horizon, sometimes at the moon,
As if he, too, was building something…
But in his own way.
The little ones were building a house of earth.
He, in all likelihood, was building the first love story in his heart.
Translated by Abdullah Ingad
©® Hind Al‑Hassan
07.
Poem: “Spring of a Thousand Years”
Poet: Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)
From:
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
The spring that kicks off the twelve months of the year
Comes walking out from the ancient Dongba scriptures
In this thousand-year-old temple
It takes root and settles down
Bees leap up
To the top of the crabapple branches
Buzzing to spread the glad tidings of spring
The thousand-year-old Ten-Mile Fragrance tree standing in the temple center
Has also traveled here from a thousand years ago
Draped in pure white, cloaked in full-bloom fragrance
Swaying elegantly, bursting into a profusion of blossoms
Starting from the bleak, desolate winter
It unfolds its blooms to the world, one by one
— Beauty spanning three lifetimes
Pheasants and jungle fowls sing and soar joyfully on the back hill
Steeds on the distant Ancient Tea-Horse Road prance and leap merrily
Farm cattle in the nearby fields low loudly
All living things rush to learn the good news of spring’s arrival
They offer their highest etiquette
To welcome this Dongba Spring that has finally come after wandering through a thousand years
O dear Dongba Spring
Over these thousand years
Who has been waiting for you?
Who are you waiting for?
©® Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)
08.
Poem: “AFTER THE STORM “
Poet: TAGHRID BOU MERHI
From: LEBANON – BRAZIL
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
From the flank of a dune, the wind rises,
carrying sacks of sand
to every direction.
The sky narrows
behind a yellow veil,
and the tracks of camels disappear
at the first sandy bends.
A tent rope resists
in the hand of an old man who has known many seasons,
while a mother gathers her children around a hearth
where a final ember still glows.
Near the well, a palm tree bends
beneath the weight of dust,
and the day moves slowly
across faces and across the herd.
Then,
the wind grows weary
and scatters what remains of its clamor
along the edges of the desert.
Men set out, following the tracks,
and women emerge, gathering
what the storm has scattered.
A waterskin passes
from hand to hand,
and a warm loaf of bread finds its place
in more than one tent.
A pot of coffee opens the evening
for those gathered
around a small fire.
Weary faces exchange salt,
prayers,
and yesterday’s stories
upon the sand.
The traces of the storm remain for days,
but the traces of affection
endure longer than the wind
and farther than the desert.
©® TAGHRID BOU MERHI
09.
Poem: “Life at Sea”
Poet: TiKumari Sharma
From: Nepal
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
Looking beyond sky
Bringing the images at the seaside,
Taking joy of wide sea
Power of the water world in the depth
Oceanic love of mine
Once was thrown
That memory resides in sea beach
Being pure of body
Feeling pain in mind
Memory of hated love
That is a lot of life.
But art heals my tears.
Art consoles my heart ache
©® TiKumari Sharma
10.
Poem: “My Ill Mother”
Poet: Ratan Bhattacharjee.
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
My mother’s breath is now a fading lamp, yet it glows for me still,
A small flame trembling against the vastness of night , yes that’s all I can feel .
Her hands, once strong rivers, now lie quiet and thin,
But they hold the whole history of my becoming.
I wish I were sitting beside her like a child returned to origin,
Hearing the soft rustle of years in her fragile sighs.
Her eyes like the stars in a cloudy night all dim
I still search for my own lost self in her countenance
As if love alone can go steady leaving the world on the brim .
The room fills with symbols that only a son can read—
The quilt of sacrifice, the pillow of unspoken prayers.
Even illness cannot efface the empire of her tenderness,
Nor silence the ancient music of her care.
In her weakening light, I learn the truth again—
A mother’s love is the last sun that refuses to set none to dare .
©® Ratan Bhattacharjee
Former Affiliate Faculty Virginia Commonwealth University Richmond USA
11.
Poem: “LASTING STRENGTHS “
Poet: Dr.Parvinder Nagi
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
When sorrows came with shattered dreams
I mended it through the tattered gleams
Each wound a truth world knew
Strong at the broken places a few
I stitched myself where the cracks grew
Held with threads so thin I sew
I walked in pain as shadows past
Healed the scars reclaimed so fast
Each fragile step became a bend
Healing every scar with strength
Not for lasting just to survive
Giving a reason to stay alive
I broke in ways no one could see
It hung so deep like end of me
It changed the way as I prayed
Forever strong it always stayed
©® Dr.Parvinder Nagi
12.
Poem: “On the House’s Hip”
Poet: Muhammad Al-Qaddafi Masoud
From:
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
We write on the house’s hip:
We are here.
We chew on the street’s loneliness
’til the alley turns
into a moon on the soul’s shoulder.
The wind’s wound…
you tell it like a secret.
Lightning drinks its glass,
and we drink down the question.
Sparrows soften the bitter cold.
What’s the point of staying…?
The olive tree left it to the windows
to tell what’s left
of the shouting inside us,
tossing it in the grinder.
©® Muhammad Al-Qaddafi Masoud
Translation Dr . Salwa Goda
13.
Poem: “I AM LOOKING FOR YOU”
Poet: Jagoda Sablić
From: Croatia
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
I AM LOOKING FOR YOU
I am looking for you
in the lost night.
I am looking for you on the
empty pillow wet with tears.
I am looking for you in the
grain of sand, with which
my love is forevered buried.
I am looking for you in the
rapids of the river, that
murmurs sadly.
I am looking for you in the
abode of lost desires,becouse
I love you very much.
I sift throught my memories,
like the keys of an old piano,
and I listen to howe each key
In my head cries, while the
images of memories line up.
I am looking for you in random
travelers.
In the cry of seagull’s hear
yur voice.
I know that the sea cries with me,
becouse, You love me.
I am looking for you in the
morning dew that cries on
a rose bud.
I am looking for you in the
solitude that has chained my
soul.
Please, come, embrace me.
I tremble, becouse
I love you.
I am looking for you.
©® Jagoda Sablić
14.
Poem: “Immortality”
Poet: Souad Al-Kuwari.
From: Qatar
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
They pass in hurry on my table
They pass and disappear
Without leaving any trace
They go through like this and I never feel them
O wave that is coming from the farthest cave
O the last wave.
Fly and hit the outskirts of the city
Here the crocodile and blue whale sleep
Here sleeps the oldest shell
That built its castles at the bottom
Built a castle for stray fish.
She built a tomb for a body that the fortune-teller
Predicted that it would die by drowning.
O wave coming from the farthest cave
Throw me on the highest mountain
And let me have my soliloquy with the sky
Let me appeal the owner of the throne.
The earth wore a gray sash Soldiers lined up near the walls
The dream landed wearing a perforated dress So the young hyenas turned
around me.
I lit up the noise of the air,
This is my path covered with fresh herbs. My road winding between
Several overlapping roads Shall I start from this moment?
Shall I destroy trees, befriend the goats, And ride the wind
While I leave my lanterns to the bats. Before the sun goes down
I will unfold my robe on a tree trunk and sit From afar I can still see them
Passing by my table and go away Pass and leave
Without leaving any trace.
©® Souad Al-Kuwari.
15.
Poem: “I Dreamed of You”
Poet: Tanja Ajtic
From: Serbia/Canada
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
I dreamed of you last night,
how the mind alone can blur
the present and the past.
In some uncharted dimension
of reality, we were together,
in a tender embrace,
as once, long ago,
in youth.
Everything was real,
platonic, gentle,
romantic—
as it used to be.
I dreamed of you last night
and woke up
with a smile
I had long since lost,
taken away by
everyday life.
And yet, in the dream,
where I cannot choose the vision,
we are one,
we are real—
as we might have been
had we not embraced
too soon
and kissed
so innocently.
©® Tanja Ajtic
16.
Poem: “Roaming the buses of desire”
Poet: Rishiraj Chakraborty
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
He kept longing, clad in clay.
They, who have flights of fancy
die in torment, on bits of paper.
The empire of Sijth strikes back
On those, who refuse to fall.
Memories play a wicked game –
Sceptres, thrones and the bones
Of happiness, I collect, my son
With sea weed and froth.
Roaming the buses of desire
I freed longing, to dance on hay.
Those who have moments of purple
Live in torment, in houses by the bay.
The empires of heaven, crack and crash
And are done to dust.
The scorched sun is sinking –
Whispers, stubbles and a world
of magnificent men, I throw, my daemon
to a lost horizon.
Roaming the buses of desire
I sledge longing, in burnt May.
Those who have a glimpse of water
Perish not in vain, on castles of fire.
Where jackals mate humans
In that insouscient hour, I shall arrive
To claim my lost Piranhas and ire
For beneath your kingdom of star and shine
I propose, my Lord, I will have mine.
©® Rishiraj Chakraborty
17.
Poem: “SUMMER’ S DAY”
Poet: Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri.
From: Albania
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
We are on the squere looking for our real way,
On this summer’ day.
Since weeks albanians are protesting,
They are sure there was wrong something.
They came from different countries
And arise the voice:
To winn their rights on their own state.
They feel tired to be foreign here and there,
On their own birthplace, they want to live free and better.
Today is the fourth week
And they feel stronger, not anymore so weak.
They are just looking for more equality,
Not anymore desceminated, but wants real humanity!
©® Shaip Zeqir Zeqiri.
18.
Poem: “Obsessive Flame”
Poet: Muammar Al-Sufyani
From: Yemen 🇾🇪
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
Your beautiful presence drew me in
among my poetry’s audience.
I forgot my voice.
on the shelves of wonder.
And I was cast into the unknown
in my estrangement.
O eternal hour.
of years of delusion.
I resurrected language
from the ashes.
You
the silence of firewood
and I — the obsessive flame
©® Muammar Al-Sufyani
19.
Poem: “May the World Be Free from War”
Poet: Alam Mahbub
From: Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
“Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek,
but a means by which we arrive at that goal.”
Martin Luther King Jr.
Let the drums fall silent.
Not with surrender—
but with the stillness of understanding.
Let no more a thread,
sewing humanity into one garment of breath.
Peace should not hang on dusty walls—
it must walk beside us, barefoot, named by no country
but recognized by every eye.
Let hands be held, not fists.
May rage be buried,
and hope remain wild, flowering, fearless.
©® Alam Mahbub
20.
Poem: “The last poise”
Poet: Indrajit Roy
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 23 June Tuesday 2026.
what could be your last poise?on furnitures? or grounded, like a defunct plane ,
that once licked the clouds….
or you could be remembered as the last scavenger,
groping through the vines,
never losing lust,
for breathing
once more,once more in dust…
your distant children, write grey
memoirs, say we are fond of you papa ,
but it was about two decades ago they looked your eyeholes….
sitting at edge of the couch , maestro,weaving blind verses in head ,
my holidays are full of lead, concrete – old ,old spiders hangin’ from the roof ,
on long strings.i remember papa,
you despised green tea.
your distant children,do not know.
©® Indrajit Roy
Thanks for your poems