Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away. Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance - Carl Sandburg..........Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject - John Keats .........Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge - William Wordsworth ..........Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand - Plato .........No man was ever yet a great poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher. For poetry is the blossom and the fragrance of all human knowledge, human thoughts, human passions, emotions, language - Samuel Taylor Coleridge .........One demands two things of a poem. Firstly, it must be a well-made verbal object that does honor to the language in which it is written. Secondly, it must say something significant about a reality common to us all, but perceived from a unique perspective. What the poet says has never been said before, but, once he has said it, his readers recognize its validity for themselves - W. H. Auden ...........Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash - Leonard Cohen .........There is a pleasure in poetic pains which only poets know - William Cowper .........Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood -T. S. Eliot ..........Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason - Novalis...........He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life - George Sand .........A poem is never finished, only abandoned - Paul Valery ........A poet is a bird of unearthly excellence, who escapes from his celestial realm arrives in this world warbling. If we do not cherish him, he spreads his wings and flies back into his homeland - Kahlil Gibran.............Poetry should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance - John Keats..........To be a poet is a condition, not a profession - Robert Frost........A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself - E. M. Forster.........Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo - Don Marquis...........Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things - T. S. Eliot ..........You can tear a poem apart to see what makes it tick. You're back with the mystery of having been moved by words. The best craftsmanship always leaves holes and gaps so that something that is not in the poem can creep, crawl, flash or thunder in - Dylan Thomas .........Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words - Paul Engle......... There is not a joy the world can give like that it takes away! Lord Byron

Banned In Iran

Leonard Schwartz - USA


I intuit the brilliance of the moon / in this room without windows or sense of time. / After all, the most archaic unit is the moon / and language is lit with its reflected fire. / It isn't the moon I'm after, / its barracudas at low tide circling the mirror.

Khaju Kerman Park

Denis Mair - USA

       ---Written while attending the Second Iranian and World Poets Congress.

         Khaju of Kerman was mentor and friend to the poet Hafez.

This park is a nook of many nooks / Set in rock so humans can draw near / And grow friendly with the mountains / Nooks for all flavors of contemplation / Nooks as theaters for conversation / A secret system of

From the Bow of Battle

Sonnet Mondal - India


Sitting with backs to each other

two worlds converge in the borderline

of an estuary with the ocean of skies.


Nidhi Chauhan - India


You aint going nowhere / Leaving me alone / You will stay with me /
Always in my memories / In what used to be home. / Left your imprints everywhere i see / Can't escape from it all, your eyes won't let me flee. / I want to forget it all / forget you ever loved me. / Waking up each morning without you


Joy Al-Sofi - USAWith The Light of Freedom in Our Eyes

Joy Al-Sofy - USA

Oh Egypt, Oh Egypt! / (I hope this means what I hope it means / An end to tyranny not just to Mubaraks regime.) No matter what, / Today we zare together / Smiling and crying / All at the same time / We have heard the cry


I whom you see I'm not human....

Jumoke Verissimo - Nigeria


1. I whom you see I'm not human / Before you is the wrist of a town / The voice that cloned hearts to being / My hands acts as lever, bracing grief / I have welts that's wealth on my back / Here is the one who smiles at torture / I have dressed my soul in steel / I eat out the


Yolanda Castaño - Spain

The English translation is done by the author

I Passed By Here So Many Times, and Never Saw You Before


We are making a detailed inventory, / like the herbarium of an unforeseeable constellation. / First are the lilies, adornment of splattered stars; / the dahlias and the chrysanthemums; /

Yan Li - China

Translated into English by Denis Mair - USA

Marvelous Encounter (for World Poetry Day)


 At springs first blush we walk in the riverside park / Because my forebears long ago discovered / Language is best for reciting when / It first droops from the wands of willows


Yu Nu - China

Translated by Eleanor Goodman


At twelve, a friend and I / exchanged our animals. He produced / a gray bird, I produced a lizard. They parted bearing / the temperatures of two people.

My Sheet

Rati Saxena - India

Translated by Seth Michelson - USA


That morning when I woke, I saw / a small hole in my sheet, / the result of being lost in sleep. / So I struggled with silken thread throughout the day /

Thus spoke Tamara

Fahredin Shehu - Kosova


I have polished the eyes of suffered child / Removing steamy layers of his vision / To see a sparkling teeth while I smile / And my souls dormant and well hidden planet of hate / I have washed the stratosphere of disasters  / Their parents layered meticulously in his

Anthem of the Memory

Jovica Tasevski Eternijan - Macedonia


The space that expands / and contracts, the face / that is built / and knocked down, / the time that darkens / - the ether, protection, / Direct -  / Trembling hand of the order: / Under the fury of the ascension-eternity / Fear sprouts / In the ashes over

Jasmine Seller

Sayed Gouda - Egypt/Hong Kong

Translated into English by the author

i am a jasmine seller / i get up in the morning with the birds / my eyes hug daylight / my heart sips the scent of life / i see a line of ants on the ground / i throw a cube of sugar to them / i leave a piece of bread / And a handful of rice / On the threshold of my door / Provision for the morning birds / i leave with no worry, / Secure


The Ofi Press Magazine Interviews Sayed Gouda

1.           What role does instinct have in writing poetry


- Ill talk about the role instinct plays in my poetry. To some poets, it plays a little role or almost no role at all. For me, instinct plays a major role that I dont see how I can write poetry without it. Of course, I can

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