“Dolphin” by Carole Jacobs, Wales, UK. Painting by Tom Higgins, UK


(Painting by Tom Higgins, UK)



Slip silver along the length of my back,

see it gleam,

turn to black

as wave-water holds me,

dips me in silk.

Only a stretch of muscle,

arrowed beak,

curving in the night air,

to plunge deep

through the kelp I’ve moved.

There I can show you

the shoal of my dreams,

swirled through the green,

touched with the moonlight

I have trapped in my fins.


Carole Jacobs, 2016

“The Dark House of Hurt” artwork by Adel Gorgy, USA. “Crosses and gravestones break my view” poem by Peter Thabit Jones, UK

-Credit : Cross-Cultural Communications Art & Poetry Series Broadsides # 78


The Dark House of Hurt
Copyright © Adel Gorgy 2015 Photograph  – http://www.adelgorgy.com/



Crosses and gravestones break my view.
To the left, I see you, bending
To arrange a jar of flowers;
The winter sky dulls your presence:
Charcoal figure, Van Gogh peasant.
Now kneeling, you recall a prayer.


My lack of Welsh locks out the sense;
But the grammar of sobs I know.
No priest, no poet, no actor
Could vinegar my wound like you.
You stand and gather up your things;
Then blackly walk the narrow path.


Your grief is deep – and so is mine;
Yet your strange prayer suggests that faith
Does visit your dark house of hurt.
I stare down at my child son’s grave;
I say no words to cross or stone,
As my clenched hands hold crumbs of dirt.


Published in VISITORS by Peter Thabit Jones, Seren Books (1986)



The Dew – poem and painting by Lo Ch’ing, Taiwan

Lo Ching
Lo Ch’ing, Taiwan


Credit: The Poem of the Week is – recently – also published on the website
of  POINT Editions in English, Spanish and Dutch



They say

I should not dwell

In cold mountains so high
I should not work in the scorching gorges so deep.

They say

I should not hide

Secluded in my many different rooms

With my dead branches, fingers alike
Painting white clouds, dream fantasies

All over the floor, the walls.

But they don’t know

When darkness returns

From where I come.

Those many splendored clouds

Will silently float out

Hovering above the driest places
Transforming into sounds

Of intermittent showers.

Lo Ch’ing (Taiwan 1948- )

Translation: Nancy Ing



“Apricot” Poem and Photo by Vatsala Radhakeesoon, Mauritius





Some friends call her a ginger cat,
Others call her an orange cat,
But for me, she’s simply my favourite pet,
My cute and clever cat
proudly bearing the inspirational fruit’s name Apricot.

Apricot loves to drink cool cow’s milk,
A daily consumption of Canaillou and Whiskas pet food
makes her coat as soft as silk.

Apricot can catch a mouse at one go,
Like human beings she can open the windows,
She plays with the door keys and asks me to let her go
to meet her new friend, the neighbour’s cat Alexo.

Run, run, run in the garden Apricot and Alexo,
They chase the yellow butterflies and brown sparrows,
Fluffy, the grey puppy joins them too,
When the sunset says “Hello”,
Apricot whispers to her friends “Miaow, Miaow, tomorrow”;
She, then rushes home and rests on the cushion turquoise blue.

Sometimes when I feel weary and without zest,
Apricot sits by my feet and let an aura of hope manifest,
Her sweet purrs say softly “ Please, please don’t be upset.”

Vatsala Radhakeesoon



Vatsala Radhakeesoon was born in Mauritius in 1977.

She has had a keen interest in poetry writing and reading since a very young age. Highly encouraged by her mother, a Hindi teacher, she kept on writing. Her poem ‘Loneliness’ was first published in the widely read local newspaper, L’Express in October 1995. Vatsala has participated in poetry conventions and creative writing workshops in Mauritius and U.S.A.

Her first poetry book ‘When Solitude Speaks’ was published on recommendation of the Ministry of Arts and Culture, Mauritius in 2013. That book consists of poems written between the ages of 14 to 35. Her works emphasize on emotional, social, historical and spiritual issues.

Vatsala Radhakeesoon graduated with a MBA degree from Management College of Southern Africa. She is self-employed and continues to write poems in various languages: English , Kreol, French and Hindi. She is currently working on her second poetry book in English.


“I cani sentiranno la nostra mancanza” poem by Tomasz Marek Sobieraj, Poland. Painting by Sandrina Piras, Italy


(Painting by Sandrina Piras c/o http://www.culturanostop.it/)



Una poltrona vuota in un angolo di una stanza,

sotto la lampada; un tavolo accanto,

occhiali, libri, telefono,

alcuni giornali e un gioco di dama sopra.

Davanti alla poltrona, un cane è seduto.

Non vuole alzarsi

e sistemarsi comodamente, come i cani

di solito fanno. Guarda. Aspetta.

Probabilmente pensa,

che questo è solo un nuovo gioco a “scomparsa”

un comportamento, infatti,

che è indegno di un uomo serio;

un altro scherzo, come lo era nel parco,

quando lui è salito su un albero e ha gettato le castagne.

Il cane aggrotta la fronte, inclina la testa,

annusa l’odore con il suo naso umido,

muovendo leggermente la coda. Si sdraia

sul tappeto, poggia la testa sulle zampe anteriori,

lotta con il peso delle palpebre, dopo un po’

si addormenta; abbaia,

corre dietro al suo padrone, è un piccolo cucciolo,

tira la stoffa, e quindi cade

in quella terribile pozzanghera vicino alla vecchia quercia.

E, naturalmente, insegue il gatto.


Dopo alcuni sogni del cane,

i bicchieri, i libri e la dama

scompaiono dal tavolo.

L’altare lentamente

si perde nel buio. Poi arriva l’inverno.

E il cane è ancora seduto davanti poltrona

e attende.

TOMASZ MAREK SOBIERAJ (Translation by Lidia Chiarelli)