ANTHOLOGY FRAGMENTS OF

TIME

Editora CLit

Published by Editora Conexão literária, 2024.

 Title : FRAGMENTS OF TIME
First edition : July 2024
Copyright : ©2024 Editora CLit
Written by : Various authors
Copyright© 2024, all rights reserved by publisher CLit
(Literary Connection).
No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any form or
by any means, whether mechanical, photocopying, recording, etc., nor
appropriated or stored in a database without the express authorization
of the publisher or authors.
 Table of Contents
Preface.........................................................................................................1
Altamiro Correia/ Poeta Escondido.....................................................3
Benedito Jr..................................................................................................4
Benedito Jr..................................................................................................5
Britney Ianai ..............................................................................................6
Ene ...............................................................................................................8
Eunice Joshua Tennessee .........................................................................9
Fábio Wadyanga......................................................................................10
Fifkay Novella..........................................................................................12
Filomena Nhancale ................................................................................13
Finório Tovo "Terapêutico da vida".....................................................15
Francileide Freitas...................................................................................17
José Casimiro (Pensador Original).....................................................18
José Casimiro (Pensador Original).....................................................19
Keke Poeta................................................................................................20
Kelton Timana "Engenheiro das palavras" ........................................22
L.Y Sultane...............................................................................................23
L.Y Sultane...............................................................................................25
Lua Inspiradora .......................................................................................26
Luck...........................................................................................................28
MAIRA CORREIA..............................................................................30
Mandume Dos Santos ...........................................................................31
Marcel Patriota........................................................................................32
Márcia Crismar .......................................................................................34
Márcia Crismar .......................................................................................36
Mary Bagesteiro ......................................................................................37
Mary jane..................................................................................................42
Núria Mathias (Negrarte).....................................................................44
Núria Mathias (Negrarte).....................................................................46
Pedivaldo Cláve.......................................................................................48
Poeta Falso ...............................................................................................49
Poeta Menor_24 .....................................................................................50
Poeta Menor_24 .....................................................................................51
Rei Poeta...................................................................................................52
Samira Reis...............................................................................................54
Ubaite Manasse.......................................................................................59
Unkulo D'Papel ......................................................................................61
XITUCULUANA ................................................................................62
Biographies of participating authors ..................................................63
 Preface

It is with great pleasure that we present the anthology "Fragments of

Time", a unique collection that brings together texts by renowned
writers from Mozambique, Angola, Brazil, Cape Verde and Portugal.
In this work, readers will be taken on a literary journey, delving into
the depths of human emotions and exploring the intricate labyrinths
of time.
Each author, with their distinct voice and unique perspective, offers a
valuable contribution to this literary mosaic. The pages of this
anthology encompass the cultural richness and linguistic diversity of
these five countries, revealing the power of words to transcend borders
and unite people.
Throughout these pages, readers will find texts filled with love,
longing, hope, challenges and various feelings. The authors masterfully
capture human emotions in their purest and most visceral form,
inviting us to contemplate the complexity of the human experience.
"Fragments of Time" is a testament to the resilience, creativity and
literary talent that flourish in different corners of the
Portuguese-speaking world. In this anthology, time unfolds into
multiple dimensions, intertwining past, present and future in a
narrative tapestry that echoes the universality of the human condition.
Therefore, we invite readers to embark on this literary journey, to
explore the corners of the human soul and let themselves be enveloped
by the magic of words. May "Fragments of Time" be a shining beacon,
guiding us through the vicissitudes of existence and celebrating the
intrinsic beauty of the cultural diversity that unites us.
May this anthology be a lasting testimony to the transformative power
of literature and a tribute to the richness of human expression, which
transcends borders and resonates in the heart of every reader.
Good reading!
The CLit team.

2
 Altamiro Correia/ Poeta Escondido

After 7 years
It was you who,
Woman told me.
It was the excuse,
Prepared to say goodbye,
I know.
Not even the blood ran to the heart of your chest,
Of a mature woman.
Not even time knows our exits anymore,
At night,
From under the tree,
From the building next door.
Of the rose that shines hidden,
The bullshit you didn't receive,
On friends night.
The swallowed dance,
The hug,
Stopped and the kiss that time,
He didn't allow me to give it.
After 7 years of a complete life and a happy ending through the story
that repeats itself,
For the selfishness you placed at the beginning of your passion,
Don't cry woman.
 Benedito Jr.

Eternal Love, Separated Forever

Your eyes reflect stars,
Your smile warms my soul.
Our hearts beating as one,
For you, I would face every storm.
But fate is a cruel master,
Our paths must part.
Despite our true love,
This goodbye is inevitable and bitter.
Your kiss will try to guide me home,
Your memories will be my lighthouse.
When darkness approaches,
My heart will be your protector.
You will leave, finding new life,
As I protect the multiverse.
I will love you forever and ever,
Even though we are separated in the universe.
 Benedito Jr.

Love Beyond Time and Space

Through innumerable worlds I have traversed,
Ancient magic and ancestral forces I faced.
But your love is the greatest mystery,
That my mind never understood.
Your emerald irises shine,
Like shooting stars in an infinite sky.
Your smile has the power to illuminate,
The darkest darkness of the multiverse.
I long to touch your lips again,
Memorize the softness of your skin.
Lose myself in your warm arms,
Where time becomes a distant reverie.
But reality is a cruel sentence,
No universe will allow us this grace.
Then I will fight to free you from this burden,
So you can find peace on another road.
Our paths will forever fork,
But my love for you will survive time.
Transcending dimensions and creating universes,
Where our hearts will coexist eternally.
 Britney Ianai

Darkness
What evil
You changed my happiness
She was a beauty
You made me feel older
I was a victim through my friends
Behind you were my enemy
He had a wife, a house, he had a home
And today I have the bar
I raised my hand on my wife
I was finished inside
Addiction destroying my whole
Losing myself every day
Today I am lonely
Leave the house to be in this darkness
I left my comfort for this curse
Aíhhhh
And those who said they were my friends
They are doing well
And me...and me smoking a cola-like deposit
I dropped out of school
Fight with other homeless people for food
That were left behind in that container
The box serves me as a bed and blanket
So much pain!
Lord, Lord I need your protection
 Hear my scream and give me enlightenment
I want to get out of this darkness of darkness
Free me from this video that destroys my lungs
I forgot the passion for life
I live in a void instigated by drink
And I'm addicted to being a nothing of something, and a something of
nothing
I live under the influence of the club
And with every blow my life ends
Smoke comes out of the mouth
But it ruins the lungs
What a plague is my life
I'm an insect of my own insecticide
Through the shared needle I acquired AIDS!

7
 Ene

I THOUGHT!

I thought love was a refuge, a safe place where I could be myself, free
from judgment and fear, however, I discovered that too much
protection can turn into a prison. Those who love me, in an attempt to
protect me, ended up building barriers around me, limiting my
freedom and my ability to grow.
The affection and concern they show are genuine, but at the same
time suffocating, each gesture of care turns into an invisible chain that
binds me, preventing me from exploring the world and facing my own
challenges, I feel like I'm living in a bubble, protected from the outside
world but also isolated from it.
Sometimes the walls of this prison are built with sweet words and
kind gestures, but they are still walls. They don't realize that by trying
to protect me from all the pain and danger, they are also depriving me
of the experiences that shape who I am, life, with all its uncertainties, is
what makes us grow and mature, and without these experiences, I feel
stagnant.
I thought it was possible to find a balance, a middle ground where I
could be loved and protected, but also free to live my own experiences.
However, the struggle to find this balance is
Constant and exhausting, their intentions are the best, but
sometimes their love can be suffocating.
 Eunice Joshua Tennessee

It's not worth regretting

Seeing the wind blow without north
In the light a cut
And the sun is harder than a stone on the body
When your eyes fill with tears more than the clouds at the top
Do you know why
Because it melts our floor
And the pain of the mind or thought takes us off the mattress
Oh, but why?
And life feels like a wheelbarrow
Through the heavy distance
In addition to tiring your hands
The feet, and the shoulders then
Ahhh! Still, it's not worth regretting
(For what value does it have?)
Just get up and carry on
Yes, it's fighting
Even when misfortune seems the only one to embrace us
Ah!, take away his grace
Walk and win
That do, but never regret
It's not worth regretting
Shake your feet and we'll get there
 Fábio Wadyanga

MARIZA ANGELS' FAIR

In primary school Mathematics classes, the teacher was very irritated
with me.
He was always there in front of everyone and at the board solving
countless exercises to guarantee a promising future for his boys.
But I constantly didn't care what he said
Because he looked at you devotedly and wasn’t afraid if he left a trace...
In Portuguese classes something completely opposite happened and he
was no longer able to shout at me
Because I was always there, fearless of everything and everyone
Reading poems to delight only you ...
The perplexity in his eyes and yours
They sent me the signal that you were satisfied and happy with my
outburst
Professor Carlos couldn't believe that a person that age could read
with so much passion
And interpret Fernando Pessoa’s poetry with such precision
We were only nine years old and I already loved you intensely
That's why I was distracted in class ...
When the bell rang for halftime
We went to different worlds
I used to play with my friends in the school yard
While you were on the other side talking to your friends
You didn't realize
But I kept looking at you without stopping
With you in sight
 Hunger no longer existed
As well as the enthusiasm to play with friends ...
We were born in a beautiful and tropical land
She was given the name Angola
Land of undeniable natural beauty
In the summer we went outside to take a shower without fear of
getting sick.
Innocently on days of intense rain
The land was constantly humid and people built gigantic igloos with
mud like the Eskimos in Alaska ...
May God bless you Mariza Quermesse dos Anjos
In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit
Amen!.

11
 Fifkay Novella

Myths of my era
Gone are the nostalgic days of old
Sages said living libraries
Where culture had its magic touch to educate society in
basis of educational myths
That to understand the power of myths it was enough to look
A naked woman blindness blinded you in the blink of an eye
of eyes
It was the time that did not understand the time that early mornings
were respected by taking a
Broom to clean dust
Swayila was you who hovered in the rhetoric of the insoluble cocuanas

C hildren dissolved while accompanying a funeral procession is

what the generation
of veterans had to offer Mozambican society
Gone are the best times when respect and fear were evident in the
children of men.
 Filomena Nhancale

Between bullets and bombs

It all started as a joke
Devaluing our flag
It was the xibamo manifesting its malice in Cabo Delgado
Taking away our hope of peace
Between bullets and bombs
Mozambican families are in mourning
And children remain orphans
In the end, innocent children of the black mother die
Between bullets and bombs
Tears flow over the black widow's face
Yes
Between bullets and bombs
Bullets rain over the defenseless woman's body
Miro's bright dream dies
And the trauma is born due to the present terrorism he experienced
Longing
Of all those who fought for Mozambique
Hand in hand they fought the war
Cabo Delgado
We share the same mother Africa
And even father Mozambique
Even without green ties of hope
We will fight for you brother
So that no tyrant enslaves us
We will join thousands of arms into a single force
 Until the homeland becomes beloved
Cabo Delgado
Became earth
No threshing floor
Land where death lurks at every moment, attacking defenseless people
more violently
Cabo Delgado
For you I cry, I pray
Beg
So that one day we can reach peace hand in hand.

14
 Finório Tovo "Terapêutico da vida"

In the greatest love who loves takes care

I don't want my love to worry about its path,
For I am watching your steps,
And you won't have to stop walking
For I will remove any obstacle and any nonsense that will be said about
you.
I built this feeling inside me, because in the greatest love you must take
care of and protect your love!
And I always want your well-being to protect and respect your
opinion, only those who love know that this is how it is.
I'm always taking care of you,
And from my thoughts I will never let you leave, and in my heart I will
let you blossom day by day'
For when you think of me,
The beat of my heart closer to yours!
Because there are loves that don't know how to love and are even
addictive;
But those who love without limits know how to love and care for their
love with intensity.
Because when we crossed paths in that square, I liked you,
And when I saw you for the second time, haha!
I was afraid to tell you how beautiful you are.
But when I finally told you that you're beautiful,
I was afraid to kiss your plump lips,
And when we gave each other an intense kiss,
I was afraid of falling madly in love.
 But now that I love you and you love me,
We love each other so much!
That I even fear losing you, in the glories of a greater love
and never being able to take care of you, my love.
Because I can't resist your beauty
In your body waves,
in the radiant look of your beautiful face,
I want to live in love and be with you in this love that shines within us.
So that something more beautiful can be born, which for you is
something greater,
because in my chest there is a clear and dark hope but with a harmony
of two hearts interconnected in innocent passion.
That in heaven, our love lives,
And in the thought of flowers our love is born,
That is a love that flows more and more like the fire of passion that
boils in our veins when we are together.
My flower, life is our most precious asset, but our love is our
pure alliance that unites us,
It's something so strong and capable of changing the world,
But at the same time it is so fragile, and capable of ending the sphere of
our love in a second.
These moments in our lives should be magical, because we are all
searching for true and greater love.

16
 Francileide Freitas

Our song
I was so happy and happy!
When I heard your voice ...
Singing in front of my gate.
I got up and ran to the window
To enjoy the serenade of love!
I cried with so much happiness
It was hard to hold back the tears
That ran from my eyes
I wiped my tears and ran ...
To meet you ... and you there
Singing our song
That talks about love ... that talks about both of us.
And how it all started ...
We hugged and kissed
Our song, the most beautiful song,
That I've heard and that brought the two of us together
And as proof of love ...
You promised me you would
Serenade of love singing
Our song, to celebrate
The day that love brought the two of us together ...
José Casimiro (Pensador Original)

The question
Why?
Why do we feel so much pain,
A lot of pain for just existing.
Even pretending, smiling or running away, the mind knows
And the heart still feels the pain.
Why does love hurt us,
And it hurts us so happy.
Why do we cry for joy,
If tears are synonymous with sadness.
We use as many metaphors as hyperbole,
Just to appear more alive, happy and sincere.
Why do we carry a universe in our eyes
And we see so little of the beauty that life is?
Unlike others, we have so many questions but no answers
And maybe they have answers, but would we believe them?
 José Casimiro (Pensador Original)

A poet
And I consider myself a poet
But I don't even know how to write poems
I don't know how to talk about love
But I say I love your eyes
And I still consider myself a poet
I barely know the difference between love and passion
What is intense or softer?
And I insist on inventing words in the early hours of the morning
To at least describe to you what I feel
And I consider myself a poet
Too young to be an adult
But your lips call me to temptation
You know what I want and you play with it
If you often pretend innocence
But your eyes show experience
And I consider myself a poet
And I write poems that no one reads.
 Keke Poeta

Twenty-one crisis
The cup overflows
and I can't control it.
Pleasedly,
I look at the disaster happening
between my eyes
between my fingers.
I know everything will flood
but what can I do?
I know that love will end
and we will have to leave.
I walk around
in these crises of the twenties.
and it's been a while since I came here
and I can't get out...
My chest started playing a strange song.
Outside, people die,
and it seems that the words go together.
So, even though I have
a thousand words for you,
I won't say them.
Because saying it is tiring.
Because at twenty
everything you say hurts.
everything that is said, attacks.
there are no words of consolation.
 everything in itself, burns
and dissolve
and dust will come....
The glass is full...
I'm lost,
I still don't know how to dance to the music that plays...
I'm empty, quiet, still
looking at the cup
to disaster
that overflows.

21
 Kelton Timana "Engenheiro das
palavras"

Punctuation marks indicating direction to your heart

(...) ellipsis, I was missing words before and now, maybe if I put a
comma between quotation marks and separate the elements I will be
able to respect the punctuation marks
That sit on your heart
Don't exclaim even if it surprises you that I want to put a dash so that
we can dialogue with our hearts,
I love you and if you don't believe me, I can put a semicolon in this
sentence so that you believe that I have always respected prayers.
Maybe at the end of that statement you would put a question mark,
But believe me, among curved relatives, my feelings are straight.
Maybe you reject me for taking you by surprise, but when I see you I
take my hat off
Perhaps what I feel is complex, serious or circumflex, what is
accentuated in my heart
But I have already prepared two seats in my heart
If you say yes, between close relatives it will no longer be phonemes
that will be used but phone calls that I will make for you, and then we
will put two points enumerating the fruits of our love
Say yes, so that today I can give continued attention to the love I have
to offer you.
 L.Y Sultane

I'm tired of getting it right

I got tired
I made myself right in my faults so much
that today I don't see anything good in myself,
around me,
in everything I touch
I'm sure I was wrong
I'm wrong
and I will make mistakes
It's so much imperfection
that today the lie becomes true
and the truth lies to me
with every word,
with every breath.
I'm just sure I'm wrong
I'm nothing but failures
they condemn me.
Perhaps,
I was right
at any moment
But,
I can not believe
I can't believe myself
It's too difficult.
I got tired
because I know I won't be wrong forever
I'm wrong in not thinking I'll be right
Of course
what a mistake to do right*

24
 L.Y Sultane

Time
_I want to remember
if time belongs to me
I want to remember
if the past hides me
I want to remember
if the present erases the time I lived
I loved it, thinking it would be forever
And to love you
forget the world
and I erased time
And in your eyes, I get lost
because there is no way
I love you, you will say
if you want to give me back the path._
 Lua Inspiradora

The love between two distant beings

If there was teleportation in the world
And they gave me to choose a place
Where at this very second
I wanted to be now
Do you know which one I would choose?
That's right....This place where I could actually see you.
And so I was going to show you and tell you
How good it is to have you in my life
How to know you
It was the best thing that could happen to me.
If only teleportation existed then
I wouldn't hesitate,
To go like this
Just to say what I feel in my heart
And how much you mean to me.
But for now only the best solution
It's catching a plane
And in this immensity here
Get close to you right now
And tell you that you are the only one in my life and thoughts.
Wow, how is it so real
What am I saying
How are you so special
As I only want you in my life to have.
If in this very second
 I could go around the world
I would tell you that what I feel for you is that deep
Here inside me.
I would give you the best
And I would do everything as well
There would be no lack of affection, complicity and love
So for you.
You are the best thing in my world, and I want you to feel that every
second.
So I wrote....

27
 Luck

Fragments of an unfinished life

T ime, a meticulous craftsman in its weaving, aroused in me a

constant fear of intervening in its weave. For me, time was an
invaluable gift, not subject to frivolities or banalities. And, naturally,
preserving health was of unquestionable importance. However, all of
this took an abrupt turn on that fateful day, when I was confronted
with the harsh reality of my terminal condition.
At that moment, my existence seemed to crumble before my eyes,
taking with it my most genuine hope.
Days passed of intense consideration about how to communicate
my diagnosis to my fiancé, knowing that this would mean the
premature end of our nuptial plans.
And after a period of agonizing hesitation, I finally mustered the
courage to share the painful truth with him. His response, a cold,
compassionless dismissal, was a devastating blow. Abandoned by him
and isolated from his friends, I faced my lonely battle. Until the last
breath.
I still vividly remember the final moment in which my essence
detached itself from my body, enveloped by the remnants of time and
memory. Every memory, every choice made throughout my life, echoes
in my mind like a painful echo. Reminiscences of friends begging for
me to abandon my reclusive posture, they resurfaced, while I,
enveloped in the solitude of illness, refused to socialize in favor of
studies and the solitude of my room.
Contemplating my lifeless body, an overwhelming feeling of
loneliness invaded my being. As my eyes stared at the inert image
captured by the camera, a wave of regret submerged me. Memories of a
life lived sparingly flooded my thoughts, revealing an existence wasted
amid unfulfilled aspirations and missed opportunities. I regretted not
having fully enjoyed life's simple pleasures, as the inexorable flow of
time led me inexorably to my final, private departure. of grandiose
dreams and longed-for trips.
I can't say if time or destiny were the real culprits, or if I was the
only one responsible. I only know that these were the fragments of an
unfinished life, marked by choices made.

29
 MAIRA CORREIA

LESSONS OF THE TIME

Does not give answers
He simply presents proposals,
As a whole and not as alternatives.
In fact, I was quite sure,
I drew up, executed plans
And I had a hard time for years
Patience defeated me.
The teacher was silent during the test
Well... at the end of it all, my enemy failed
And me? I went to appeal
He considered faith replaceable, and carnally he only needed recourse
I fell and rose in honor of the wicked
I lived with good influences, selfish and gentile
My success is decisive, it comes and goes,
I learned that my personality is like my father's family,
I don't get along well with cousins, nephews, much less uncles
My problem is with myself, the family that lives within me,
He always sits on discord, and yes!
My heart is that brother who cares least
Other times, the one who gets angry and slams the door in their face
Everything I've been through is the result of fragments of time
Not all are ours, and few so all,
If I knew, I would know,
But since I didn't know, what would it be like?
 Mandume Dos Santos

Sadness
It is worth sadness in the process of living well, to say that we do not
have moments of sadness, that we never feel sad, we would be missing
the truth, not only the truth, but living a moment that we have
become and facing our moment of reflection and a meeting of the soul
(intimate), as sadness is not a whole evil or good, but a balance
between the real world, which others have rarely been able to see, live
and feel because it is an individual world.
Sadness is the world of the strong in spirit and calm in words, in which
feelings are often shed through tears of silent words and a fiery look, a
floating mind with many questions that the answers are not always
given as desired.
Screaming and crying to ourselves helps to alleviate the sadness and
erase the reasons that led the soul to speak and its spirit to endure such
sadness, which the outside world does not understand, the struggle of
the internal world, cry and scream, this medicine will not give you
medicine, go to the mirror and ask yourself: is it worth taking feeling
and living to your deepest core?
But one thing we must bear in mind is that as long as we live, sadness
will be with us, because it is part of the process of life until death.
Marcel Patriota

Assembling a written action

Make a text
without pretext
context
relevant,
raise
a flag
of protest.
Get to the edge
of madness,
if necessary.
Don't be indifferent,
nor negligent
to that pain
powerful
from your head,
throw
your strength
more intense
shamelessly.
Speak to your brothers,
to those out there,
your terms pass the gaps
We are going to multiply.
Sow words
as one who issues mercy,
 forming concord
and so you will praise
the little ones too.
A joint text,
makes everything deep,
everything more active.

33
Márcia Crismar

FAREWELL
We are capable
To support all types
Farewell,
But we don't give
Account of the damage that
They provide.
In the drawers of
I will keep
The good memories
For when you come back.
Farewell is a
Word that has
In the warmth of your
I say goodbye
Imagining your
Come back to us
We deliver to
Flavor of a
New meeting.
There are goodbyes
That hurt us
Too much,
Others however give
The impression that
They never existed.
 Farewells
There are endless roads
And they always
Lead us
For a new
Path or
They arrest us
In your hands
Cold.
... I don't want goodbyes
Because I don't know how to live
Longing.

35
 Márcia Crismar

In every farewell
In every farewell there is the image of death.
Death is nothing more than an unexpected farewell that we do not
have the power to contest or avoid.
In the melancholy of farewell, the hope of reunion gives us strength to
bear the longing.
The time of the meeting is also goodbye. The platform of this station is
life..
A million words won't keep you coming back. I know because I tried.
You won't make a million tears, I know why I cried...
You will be greatly missed...
Just said
 Mary Bagesteiro

SADNESS .

"I believe that we all received intuitive powers when we came into
this world. But I believe that, with sadness, if we have to go
through a period of sadness, perhaps not even mental powers will have
the ability to help us directly. But Evaluating our imperfections can give
us a light, perhaps, making us believe that nothing and no one is perfect
will ever make us sad.
Whether or not we learn the skill in life and on a daily basis. This
ability to deal with sadness and sad moments, the ability will depend
on each one of us for ourselves."
Rosa Maria didn't want to hear anything anymore, nor speak, nor
smile, nor cry about her sadness. Her vibrations were low and spiritual
truths were not being told to her. nothing else either. It was almost
depression!!
A person with profound knowledge like Rosa Maria, from a young,
very young age, was always intelligent... But that wasn't enough... But
she was afraid!! Very afraid of life.
That's why he never truly and obviously triumphed in his career.
Never for her, she would be spectacular. In her opinion, a place of
failure always suited her much better. She didn't love herself !!
And I no longer loved anyone.
" A psychoanalyst had already told him: You have a lot to learn
about yourself and your abilities. About your voice. About your
breathing, and about your soul, your spirit, and about your entire body,
this being your matter, it is something perfect. You have health and
strength to fight for happiness. Don't care what others think, and don't
hate yourself so much.
Be firm.
Or you will never have the peace you seek!!
Life gives all of us the right to live and we choose the way we will
live, whether sad or happy. And grateful for what we are and have. All
life is there, to punish, or to applaud.!!God does not step on or punish!!
But you can, you can get hurt by the circumstances you create for
yourself. And never getting rid of the sadness. Think about it carefully,
Rosa Maria.
A porcelain doll doesn't suffer. But he doesn't live either!! Don't
face it. Don't cry!! Don't see... And they only give the porcelain doll the
balcony. The entire balcony was so serene next to a warm and protective
wool blanket...
But if the doll leaves there, it won't know how to guide itself, lead
the way, its own path. So the doll remains static, remains empty and
cold to its being and emotions.
Rosa Maria examines the room and starts to observe the balcony,
looking like a motionless old doll and that's it!!
Look outside through the house's glass doors.
It was raining this morning and the drops on the doors were like
tears dripping and dripping and moments of mourning and mourning
like a wind, outside and inside the house, it was sad to see a destiny that
was lost. Rosa is a melancholic and despondently unhappy person!!
The portrait on the fireplace was of Rosa Maria. Expression faded
with so much sadness.
Rosa Maria thinks, my life is difficult and always has been. I live
poorly dressed, I'm losing my teeth, I no longer have the vitality and
freshness of youth. And I let my body get so old, these are the things
that sad life can leave us with.
I begged, said Rosa Maria, once here on my knees in front of the
oratory. Begged...

38
 And I just heard someone tell me this is the voice of someone very
sad!! Then somehow someone heard me...
But I don't know who, I don't know where!!
Maybe it's me talking to myself.
Rosa Maria said: "She didn't believe in that life of hers"!!!
She said she chose to doubt, instead of believing!!
Then one day Rosa laughed and felt hope.
Then the answer came profoundly...
What can I do to help you get better that same strange voice said.
Someone asked him....
It was a voice from beyond!!
It was an angel...
It was a demon...
Rosa Maria didn't know what or who she was.
It was for you to learn your lessons, about the light after death
or life without life... From a sad being. Was it her conscience or Rosa
Maria's transformation?
Rosa Maria didn't understand anything.
Rosa Maria looks at her own sadness.
Rosa Maria does not recognize her feelings now.
So many sad years and the fragments of a time unnoticed and
wasted by her, the sad Rose.
Her white hair, her face, her disgust were revealing great truths
about herself.
Your experiences...
Her decisive tests on her path, throughout her life, piled up and she
did nothing for herself, for her life.
And maybe there was no more proof !!
Maybe there was no more time.
Time is gone!!
And Rosa Maria cries!!!
For having led a sad life full of fears.

39
 Rosa Maria asks you, will this be my punishment????
I'm old, like these old images from the balcony, like that porcelain
doll I lived with for so long.
The air is suffocating me now, and I feel like I can't go back.
I lost track of time.
I moved forward in time.
I didn't give myself a good place.
There are trees here swaying.
They are cypresses!!
They are olive trees.
Rosa Maria remembers her mother who died very young, it was so
sad.
But I'm still here!! That could have been a dream and I'm going to
wake up!!
I'm not suffering anymore. I'm floating!!
I don't feel the pain of unhappiness anymore, I feel satisfaction...
I do not understand this!
Is this another world?
It's a beautiful place.
It's a place where there are comforting people.
And what can we say about the survival and life of Rosa Maria...
However, his story remained unexplained.
Some say she died of sadness.
Others say that she went so unnoticed throughout her life, that
she became a Guardian Angel and lives in another life, in another
dimension.
Others talk about whether it is true that the sad Rose remained in
profound silence...
And the nature of her answers even she herself did not understand.
Others say it's worth exploring more about sadness.
Well, I see a lot of sad people.

40
 Look at the eyes. Or into people's mouths and see if you can see
anyone hurt.
I think you can see it if you pay close attention.
There are many sad people.
Or maybe I don't know how to tell sad stories! I was once told that
people would like to cover their own faces to punish their own sadness
of not liking their figure.
Look around you.
Listen carefully to your own dramas and those of those you know.
Help someone stop being a sad being!!
Turn the corner often if you need to escape your own sadness.
Don't let sadness run you, never do that.
So they still never knew how to explain the sadness of the sad Rosa
Maria and her senses and her greatest emotions.
Don't shake your faith. Wherever you are now, count on Christ
Jesus.
"Aiming to learn our existence will give us lessons in life."
Never to do harm, although bad moments appear and leave us with
great sadness.
But the important thing is an open mind.
Our task here on planet earth is to learn even from our sadness."

41
 Mary jane

Who is to blame?
Preliminaries I leave to the romantics
I woke up wet and the sweat was so much that
seemed to have struggled in his sleep
while searching for the answer to who
Who is to blame
Who?
Who is to blame for having so many boys aged 12 to 15 joining the
criminal profession and being directly sentenced to capital
punishment?
"We have to root out evil" says society, but why don't they abandon
this life?
Are the parents, the government or themselves to blame for walking in
the wrong path and eating its thorns?
Innocent they are not
But for every action there is a reason why it is not normal for a child to
hold a knife or blade and stab someone in exchange for a penny*(50
KZ)
Is all this hunger?
Or are we already living in the zombie apocalypse?
But, back to the question
Who is to blame for there being so many lottokers and greasers
scattered throughout Luanda as if they had graduated from these
areas?
Or is it the result of going to the kimbandas and as a result we have
what we see?
 And to sprinkle the situation
The price of a bag of rice keeps rising, I can't even imagine if the bullets
were real where we would end up...
In the cemetery.
Soon we will start to become a partner in sugar
Because nobody wants to die
Starve to death
But who?
Who is to blame?
Because there are educated people without work and when they
decide to start their own business, they look at them and say: It's
expensive, brother!
But the mangole doesn't give up
He insists
Even with expensive prices
He still dreams of buying his own car
And having your own business because working for others is also
expensive
Expensive in time and patience
But not all bosses are the same
I confirm and do not deny
But that's not the point
The question is:
Who is to blame for the country we see
For the evil we live
And because of the strength we no longer have?
We don't live
We survive
And there must be someone to blame
There is always
But who will it be?

43
Núria Mathias (Negrarte)

"I WROTE IN THE PAST"

I don't want to break the alliance of smiling
And be able to flow
On gray days
Being able to finish smiling
In the innocence of glorifying
On stormy days
Being able to play
Without knowing evil
I don't want to dive
In the madness that leaves the heart broken
For a thug heart
I'm afraid I won't be able to heal
I want to play all day
And the knee may grate
Cry and then shut up
Fight and then forgive
No grudge
I want to continue living in illusions
Being able to fly in emotions
Of the jokes
On wheels and hidden
Imagine the sea in a bathtub
Swim and not be able to drown
I don't want to stop rolling
On the bike
 Having a friend chasing you
To have a spin
All day until dark
And at dawn
Back to smiling
I want to continue being a child
And travel in my imaginations
Of fantasies
Without an adult ghost
Make him a terror
For me to grow up with resentment.

45
Núria Mathias (Negrarte)

YOU WILL HAVE LOVE

There will always be love
Blooming in pain
Unleashing the moans of
Naked soul
Corrupting the pain
There will always be love
In the silence of pain
Carved by glorious feelings
There will always be love
In peaceful thoughts
Seeing the blue sky
Looking like the raw ocean
There will always be love
In the cruelty of the damned man
Deceiving the soul
In the longing for the moans
There will always be love
Covered in flowers
Melted chocolates
That was before
Past;
Traced in sadness
Of a love
Hidden in pain
Tasteless
 And without knowing
There will always be love
Lost in drugs
Trapped in the asylum
Mad in pain
In rocky voices
In farewell to vices
There will always be criminal and painful love
You will always have a broken heart
There will always be a lit cigarette
And glass full of beer
Whiskey and wine bottles
There will always be open champagne to celebrate criminal love
Broken bottles cut into hearts
And blood spilled
There will always be forgotten love
silent voices
And drained souls
There will always be deceived love.

47
 Pedivaldo Cláve

My eyes have seen you

I saw you losing control, I saw you being controlled by trivialities,
I saw you go from dominant to dominated.
I saw you as tiny, when you were already so infinite.
I saw you ignorant, arrogant and contemptuous...
I saw you stop being what you were before
For trivialities,
for the vanities of the beings that fill this world with futility.
 Poeta Falso

Don't you want to talk Paulo?

Cici, I'm tired of having the same routine,
and know that there is no future for me!
I'm tired of deceiving me, the smell of failure
it pollutes my atmosphere. Wait friend...
I couldn't freeze the corpse of happiness,
the world judges me... I see the hours dying,
I am slowly dying in the pit of trauma,
they murdered reality to feed the illusion.
My soul is alone in the world,
With so much betrayal, the mirror ate my dream,
The fault of my failure is mine or the world's.
Until the next life...
 Poeta Menor_24

Emptiness of nothing
I was born here in the void of nothing
Here I was born, without mother or father
I knew pain too soon
I don't know what love is
I grew up knowing fear.
And the void taught me something:
You shouldn't expect anything from anyone.
Each one carries their stake and moves on.
Path without any destination
To those who say I'm a delinquent
I'm also used to suffering
I've heard comments that I shouldn't live
It was painful at first, but maybe they're right
I have nobody
I live in deep anguish
Nobody cares about Zé nobody.
I no longer know what it is to live
If life is that cruel
So I'd rather die.
 Poeta Menor_24

Wait
Waiting is crazy,
How long will it be like this?
I'm tired of waiting for what won't come.
My heart desires what will not come true.
How long will it be like this?
I'm going crazy waiting so long.
There is no hope in wishing...
So I cry.
What I beg will not happen.
My soul cries in chorus.
The days go away
And I'm still here waiting.
A thousand hours have passed,
But I'm still here waiting.
How long will it be like this?
The sky screams to me:
The wait will come to an end,
In the meantime, have a glass of gin.
 Rei Poeta

DISTURBED BETRAYAL
Woman, you acted
without thinking twice,
You were ungrateful, you betrayed me
5 times,
I don't know if I'm going to cry,
I don't know if I'm going to abandon you,
Maybe I'm wrong
Or just guilty
I didn't want to love you so much
I left you in my hands wrong
Twisted betrayal is your name
That acts without reason
And the heart,
Hurts without undermining
And a lot of action,
It looks like a horror movie,
Traitor in dysfunction,
Let go of me, and let
my cuckold clothes carry me,
There's no need to sing happy birthday
I'm not yours cake,
I got tired of your songs,
For many years,
Long years,
You touched my smallest heart
You took away the pleasure of loving you,
You offered me betrayal,
You demolished trust,
And you plotted the alliance,
Alliance that I will never give
For mere meaningless disappointment
I had enough,
yes I had enough, crazy without sense.
Let me live without torment,
Your excuses don't work,
It burns inside,
Ouch! What a great fear!!!
Even breathing from your
side makes it itchy,
I wasn't supposed to leave you,
But I can't tolerate traitorous love
I'll tear out your eyes,
I'll sail out of your sea
Until I never find you again
Twisted Betrayal...

53
 Samira Reis

Dragon-fly

I may be wrong about several things I have experienced over time, but
I certainly know that this is not one of them. I say this through my
own feelings, which are so volatile and immutable, I know it seems
contradictory to believe that everything changes without anything
changing. The truth is completely different from what is presented and
at this exact moment, sitting and writing while my coffee cools, I think
that I made many choices that brought me to this permanent situation
of inertia. I am inert. I'm stuck with my complicated decisions. Would
be different? Could it - in fact - change my luck? I do not think so. Fact.
I made everything that happened to me happen and so why do I feel so
desolate? Abandoned?
The other day I was going to the market when along the dirt road, I
noticed that dragonflies were flying free, when I was little I didn't know
the name of these creatures, they scared me too much. But then, with
amazement, I found myself thinking that in another life I could have
been one; spontaneous will of tired thought. I was exhausted from the
same routine, from my life. Devastated and disoriented as to what I
could do and confused about the real reason I was going to the store,
what should I buy? I stopped, watched the flying creatures in front of
me, dancing freely. His dance was an overwhelming insult to my poor
soul, condemned to the same thing. It was obvious what needed to
be done, as I did for days on end, but at that moment I found myself
caught up in the natural choreography that was available, I closed my
eyes and as if by magic I was sitting at a school desk. A memory?
Perhaps. A new opportunity? A possibility.
 I was perplexed and confused when I felt a strangely familiar touch
on the back of my neck, a shiver invaded my body and made the hair
on my arms stand on end. I have felt this touch before, many years ago.
I knew exactly who it was and why, a feeling of longing invaded my
heart at the same time as the guilt of knowing exactly what our next
years would be like because of my decision. Or rather, the lack thereof.
Inertia has always been with me and for years I didn't admit that doing
nothing led me to an unusual destiny.
The touch was repeated and will be repeated until I interrupt it, in
the same way, every day, until it ends. And then there will be nothing
left but the growing anxiety waiting for the same touch that won't
come back. I knew exactly what to do, but I didn't do it. It was the
unconscious fear of repeating the same story, I ignored it. He knew
what would happen if he didn't. The ringing stopped, a sigh sounded
along with the words that stuck in my head for many years: “ You know
I won't leave you alone, right? ” .
Whatever it was, you left me. But the words echoed daily in my
mind like a mantra, a dead hope, but carried everywhere. For me. For
my false expectations, for the disappointments I cultivated. Could I
have done it differently, really?
But you left. Maybe for a few days, for a few endless hours, but
in the end, you let it. A promise made in the wind, with words that
were lost and lost track of the sender. Empty. Exactly how I felt in the
present, or past? A new ring, the alarm for the next class sounds and
the ringing stops. Before I have time to get through the door and get
out as quickly as possible, he leaves. I throw my things in my backpack,
anyway. I notice how the girl in front looks at me, confused. I must
look sick because I don't even respond to his gaze and just walk away
aimlessly. I'm going to the bathroom. My mind is a division of what
could be done and what has already been done. Was I really changing
something in my future just by ignoring the touch of the boy on the
desk behind mine? The same touch that would make us so close that

55
we would fall in love and circumstances and “ friendships ” would
separate us for a long time? The same touch that brings us together
and what separates us. The girl follows me, her crystalline eyes, her
freckles and her golden curls. I haven't seen her for a long time and
we were inseparable, at least back then, but time passes and friendships
disappear like words in the wind.
His kind, understanding eyes were curious at my sudden and silent
departure. “ What happened to that whole thing about not being
friends with him? ” , “ I don’t know ” , and it’s true, however harsh it
may be. I don't know where we are in our friendship or where else we
can go. But my throat closes, my eyes burn and my heart hurts. I look
up to try to determine how horrible I look, but I come face to face with
a wall of dirty white tiles. I remember hearing that a girl broke a mirror
with a punch after being cheated on by her now ex-boyfriend. I can't
look at myself, perhaps, nor do I really want to. The girl keeps her eyes
on me. I know, for a fact, that we never got this far, but for a moment
I thought that I could end this relationship the right way. “ Look, just
leave me alone. ”
All I can do is get out of there. Ignore the atrocities they will invent
about me. And they do. Remaining inert for as long as possible is one of
my characteristics and something that made me survive for a long time
without being targeted. But now I see that being resilient is a very heavy
burden. Painful. Every day more ignored, more silent. Why can't they
see that I didn't do anything wrong? Why do they choose to judge me
so openly without even asking me what actually happened? I know that
this situation will repeat itself in the future, due to someone else's fault.
I can't do anything about that.
The bell rings, end of classes, of the school year. The next stage is
high school. A new challenge. The touching stopped at some point in
this journey, I faithfully believed that I could change my feelings and
ignore a lovingly disastrous future, but I see that I only anticipated the
inevitable, I hurt those who would hurt me and I pushed away those

56
who would betray me and mock my feelings. Sure, I saved myself from
myself and my bad high school choices when I was still in elementary
school, but at what price? My heart sinks a little more every second
that I hear your breathing, that I perceive your proximity as if to tell me
something, but that gives up halfway. Sometimes very close to the end.
I am a disaster in the past, present and future. I collect what's left of my
dignity, without rushing, I keep my sadness in my backpack next to the
notebook with countless poems having a single inspiration. He.
It will be the last time we will be in the same class. And that will
push us further apart, anxiety screams in my throat, closing it. I feel
a bitter taste in my mouth and I sigh, my eyes burn. He stops beside
me, blocking my passage out of there, into the freedom of a chaotic
and devastating world. I know you want to tell me something, that you
need an explanation for my coldness and detachment, but I can't. Or
just, I don't want to. How can I explain that I know what will happen
to us?
That we will be best friends and that the group of friends we shared
will be torn apart by the whims of my, then, best friends? That one of
them will use him to hurt me after she discovers our feelings for each
other? How can I explain that I know that we will always want to be
by each other's side, but cannot because we always have people we love
among us? Could I tell him that he will break up with me after only
seven days of dating after emotional blackmail puts him up against the
wall? Or that this same girl with dark eyes and wet curls will defame
him just to have him for herself and that he, exhausted, will give in
once again even though he confesses his feelings for me? Can I explain
precisely that we will see each other a few more times and that he will
reinforce the promise he made to me not to leave me alone and that
after that we will never see each other again?
All that will remain is the longing, the affective memory and the
words exchanged in our school years until there is nothing left. Finally
we will be two strangers. Maybe I'll spend a few more years walking

57
down the street hoping to see him, even just a glimpse, just to see him.
That my heart will still beat stronger and faster just with the memory of
your name.
I open my eyes. No, you are not in front of me, smiling
mischievously and with your smug look, your bright eyes and your dark
complexion. No, you were left behind, in the very distant past. Inert. In
front of me the dragonflies continue their dance. Ignoring my presence
as I have done with your memory. All that remained were fragments of
what we could have been; always stuck with people who used and hurt
us. I know my choices, many of them made me unhappy. Dragonflies
dance happily and festively.
I hear a low, hoarse “ woof woof ”, I smile.
Indeed, I made bad choices. But today I have a reason to ignore and
forget them. I remember what I was doing, where I was going and what
I should buy. I smile. You will always be in my story and you may never
leave my heart, but today I have a much greater love to live, and this one
will not bring me the feeling of abandonment, incapacity and fear.
This is how I put an end to this story, at least to calm this hurt
heart. Every click, every letter, transports me to the bitter memories of
the expectations of a young girl in love with a boy with a dog's name.

58
 Ubaite Manasse

Sallam
It is for peace that the people cry
That the marches don't end
That the tears don't stop
That the soles end
After all, what do you want?
Do you want to taste the small intestine?
From the brother, father, son who died in Cabo
To satisfy your hungry stomach
For mines, rubies, diamonds and gas.
Do you want the people to give gas?
From your own country, for the foreigner to stay here?
Do you want people to use gas?
Run away from your own father, who wants to enslave you
Do you want people to use gas?
To free yourself from mental slavery?
Do you want people to use gas?
Afraid to live, because of a piece of land with gas?
The suffering of the people is evident
Talking to you about hunger, lack of salary, that doesn't affect you, it's
clear
In your Benz, you can see the people IN LOVE, it's clear
But in October they want to be voted for and loved, it's clear...
Mozambican is resilient, the same shit all time
We won't need to live the same shit all the time...
Things must change, this time
 People must be happy this time
Well, you don't know what it's like to eat, cara_de_pau, all the time
I could even quote everything, but OK...
At the!
I will say that shit all the time..
It is for peace that the people cry
That the marches don't end
That the tears are stop
That the soles end
It is for peace that the people cry
It is because of hunger that the people cry
It is through war that people die
It is from gas that people die.
Your policy is dishonest
Sick democracy
Corrupt governance
They steal from the people they govern
They fill us with hope every 5 years that pass
Without knowing that the people get tired, there is misfortune that
doesn't go away...

60
 Unkulo D'Papel

HERE I AM !
My love...
Mine, not your lack of love
In the distance lies betrayal,
maybe infidelity,
perhaps cruelty.
This solitude is yours.
You already rejoice in sadness...
Why be so hostile?...
My love...
Yesterday, I loved you.
Our goodbye was cold.
My passions are unhappy.
Empty heart,
he didn't forget you
in this dark story...
Goodbye,
May your betrayal be forgotten...
Here I am...
 XITUCULUANA

MY CITY
My little town is a big village,
Built on tree leaves
In the foundations of every root of pain
From whips, to screams and spitting without yawning!
The wounds of slavery have not yet healed
Perpetuated on the thresholds of our hearts,
And around our village there are fallen bones
From our ancestors, where pride is condemned as lost!
In the hut, there are silent voices intertwining destiny,
In competition with birds of prey
And the Nyangas no longer fascinate on the corner,
Where the drumming struck the boys' emotions!
Oh my citadel! Only pieces of it remained
From the past, marked by the oppression that continues to this day
With their demons dragging us to the morgues
In all our strong bonds!
And from the ashes that remained, there are no more people
To launch them and pollute white minds
With the dark skin of my people,
This village no longer exists, along with its crows!
 Biographies of participating authors

ALTAMIRO G.S.CORREIA ou poeta escondido, born on July

27th in Luanda, the capital of Angola. Son of Alberto Correia and
Teresa Silvestre. Poet, writer, singer and composer. Member of the LDS
church
I discovered my love for art at the beginning of my adolescence
and it has developed to this day. Its great source of inspiration is the
great renowned Angolan poet *Aires Almeida Santos* And also his old
childhood friend *Paulo Gonçalves fake poet*
Author of many undisclosed works. Phrase creator.
[ You will not find love until you know how to love ]
Participated in the international Anthology the root of the
threatened future.
Always with the main objective of bringing love and affection
through your writings.
Facebook: Altamiro Correia.
 Email:
altamiro.correia@missionary.orgaltamirocorreia9@gmail.com

64
BENEDITO JR was exposed to the rich culture of Mozambique,
developing a special appreciation for the oral traditions and stories of
his home country. His passion for literature blossomed early, avidly
consuming works of fiction and romance while imagining entire worlds
in his fertile mind.
His journey as a professional writer began with the release of
"Ponto", a collection of 30 texts of engaging poems and poems that
ranged from romance to erotic poetry. This bold debut established
Benedito Jr as a unique and authentic voice, capable of exploring a wide
range of emotions and themes with great sensitivity.
Currently, Benedito Jr divides his time between working on his
next ambitious novel, graphic design projects and speaking at
universities, inspiring the next generation of storytellers in
Mozambique. With a boundless imagination and an unwavering love
for his cultural heritage, Benedito Jr. is destined to leave an indelible
mark on the global literary and creative scene.

65
 Britney Ianai , a talented Mozambican poet, known for her
sensitivity and depth in her verses.
His poetry often addresses themes such as social intervention, love,
freedom and self-knowledge, touching the hearts of his readers with his
poetic words. He has won more and more admirers with his unique and
engaging writing.

66
ENE is the pseudonym of Sara Sampaio born on June 14th in Luanda.
Since adolescence, he showed an interest in writing short stories that
appeared in his mind in order to distract himself, and since then he
hasn't stopped. Over the years, she continued to develop her literary
skills, with the prospect of growing even further as a writer.
He participated in the textual collection, the lyrics live in 2023, he
is participating in the anniversary anthology of publisher Esperança,
and he is participating in the international anthology the root of the
threatened future.

67
EUNICE JOSHUA TENESSE is a writer and poet born on July 7,
2007, in the city of Beira, Sofala province "Mozambique". Lover of the
art of literature.
He began his professional career in June 2023.
Social media:
Facebook: Domeuser Piece
Instagram: pedaco-domeuser

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 [Unfortunately we do not have an image of the author]

FÁBIO WADYANGA , is the artistic name of Fábio Zangui João. He

is a young Angolan Pedagogue and Writer, born in Luanda. Author
of the work “ Os Hereros ” (short stories). He also has a degree in
educational sciences from the Catholic University of Angola (Instituto
Superior João Paulo II) option, Moral and Civic Education. Currently,
he teaches Mathematics at a secondary school.

69
 .

FIFKAY NOVELLA/FILIPE Fanuel Novella , born on September

29, 1999, Maputo province, my passion for poetry began in 2015,
having participated in the moz slam competition in 2021.

70
FILOMENA SANDRA NHANCALE , Mozambican writer, poet
and reciter, born on February 7, 1998 in the city of Maputo.

71
EDILSON FINÓRIO TOVO born on March 10, 1999 in Maputo
Mozambique, son of Almeida Sarmento Tovo and Benedita
Constantino Lhamine, health statistics student in the city of Tete,
drawing/design maker and passionate about poetic literature in 2019
after appreciating a brother from the church in Maputo, I started
dreaming of writing a book when I was part of uni-verso poéticos', an
international poetry and literature group, in February 2023 and I tried
to be part of some literature and poetry groups in the city of Tete,
which was the APPT and TOPOSA this in April 2023 but where I
stood out the most was at TOPOSA because there was space there to
demonstrate my work as a writer and poet.

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FRANCILEIDE DE SOUZA Freitas , born on October 16, 1987.
Lives in the city of Camaçari - Bahia. She always dreamed of being a
writer, writing is a great personal passion. For many years he kept his
writings shelved. Today Francileide dedicates her heart and soul to the
art of writing.

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JOSÉ CASIMIRO JANUÁRIO Bombene/Pensador Original , 22
years old, born in Chiure in the province of Cabo Delgado.
Since he was a child, he has always loved poetry, stories and
literature in general, reading and writing but not only that, he is so
good and intends to improve.

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JULIANA MENDES 27 years old, Portuguese and poet.
My passion for writing has been around since I was a child, but it
was in 2017 that I began to improve myself and thus began my art with
some texts, prose and then poetry.
And the moment I discovered this gift of mine was when someone
told me that writing is ideal for expressing what you feel, as I had,
and still have, a lot of difficulty expressing my feelings. And today, the
feedback I receive from people who read my writing is very gratifying,
as they say that I can capture their essence, that I touch the heart of
whoever reads it, thus helping them in their daily lives and making a
difference. in each person's life. So this is my fuel to continue with my
art, because I know that I am on the right path with every message of
affection I receive, because of my writing.
Until 2020 I signed my poems as Juliana Mendes, that was when
Lua Inspiradora came about, as I felt that this name would bring
something good to people, due to the difficult times the world was

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going through. Thus bringing comfort, hope, love, faith and joy, to
everyone who read my poems and saw a name so light and at the same
time strong.
And my admiration for the moon, which also brings me a lot of
inspiration, made me choose this name. And today I am known as
Inspiring Moon, the poet.
In addition to the moon and the affection I receive from those who
read my writings, I also have other inspirations, such as the moments
that marked me and that I always remember with greater affection,
music, and some people who are in my life and are very special to me.
me, making me more and more inspired.
My biggest dream as a poet? Firstly to write my first book and may
the Inspiring Moon continue to travel the world touching hearts, doing
good, spreading love and good energy to people.

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KEKÉ FRANCISCO better known as Keké Poeta . Angolan, born in
the city of Luanda. Writer, poet and reciter. Author of the poetry book
"Amores Por Esquecer"
Co-author of two ebooks, participant in eight anthologies. Lover
of the art of words, professional writer for 4 years.

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ENGENHEIRO DAS PALAVRAS pseudonym of kelton Samuel
Timana born on 11.03.2003 in the city of Maputo at the general
hospital of Chamanculo having attended the 1st to 7th year of primary
education at the Primary and Complete School of Singathela having
finished primary education he entered secondary education at the
Infulene Secondary School where he attended grades 8 to 10, in 2019
he entered Machavade Secondary School, continuing his studies,
embracing literature and social sciences, having completed 12th grade
in 2020, and in Meiadoss of the year 2023 fell in love with literature
and became a poet and writer (...)

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LESLIE Y. SULTANE , is a young IT student and budding writer.
His passion for technology and literature merges into a narrative that
captures the essence of innovation and creative expression.

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LUQUENIA EDUARDO CALENGUE was born on 08/27/2003
in the municipality of Quissama/Muxima, province of Bengo. She is
the daughter of Fernando José Kalengue and Isabel Eduardo Luís
António, being the 4th daughter of a total of 7 children. She completed
primary education at the Ruth Methodist School and studied up to
7th grade at the Santos Bambos Polivalente School. However, she did
not complete 7th grade there, as she was transferred in 2015 after her
mother's death. In 2016 and 2017, he attended the 8th and 9th classes
at Escola Maria Luisa. In 2018, she entered high school, completed
high school and completed her training in 2022 at the Training School
for Secondary Health Technicians (Sofmary), becoming a Medium
Nursing Technician.
Since she was little, Luquenia showed an interest in writing,
starting with songs and stories. However, she interrupted her practice
in 2015 after her mother's death, only resuming it in 2018 when she
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entered high school. I felt that when writing, I found a sense of
belonging. In 2021, she started publishing her stories after discovering
the "Super Escritoras" chat, where she had the opportunity to meet
incredible people like her friend Sara. Since then, she has found great
passion in writing and sharing her stories. She also had the opportunity
to collaborate on a textual collection together with her friend Sara.

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MAIRA CORREIA , Literary pseudonym of Maira Andreia
Cardoso Correia , of Cape Verdean nationality, born on October 13,
2005, in Santa Cruz, Cape Verde, daughter of Jakelina Cardoso and
Avelino Correia, currently residing in Luanda - Angola, medium
Business management, entrepreneur and trainer.
She has navigated the literary arts since her childhood, but it was
only in 2024 that she officially became a writer and poet, with the work
"The Woman of Proverbs 31" on the market.

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MANDUME DOS SANTOS was born on December 9, 1985, in
the province of Luanda-Angola and grew up in the municipality of
Cazenga, he has a degree in Management and Marketing, a variant of
Small and Medium Enterprises (SMEs). He has been a treasurer by
profession for over 8 years, the Imaginary Journey and the Whys led
him to transcribe what he thinks and his creative journeys into poetry
and his writing skills, which have always been and are his passions. He
is an empathetic being, mentor of the phrases “ THINK WITH ME
” ! and from the poems “ WRITTEN WORDS ” , he lives with body,
soul and spirit. Peace of Self is your daily mantra, as it helps you reach
the zero limit of truly discovering who you are.

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Instagram: @mandume_dos_santos @pense_reflexoes
Facebook: @pensecomingo @mandumedossantos
Tik tok: @mandumedossantos
Email: mandumedossantos@yahoo.com.br

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MARCEL PATRIOTA likes to write and is enchanted by theater.
He has been featured in academic journals and anthologies, as well as
having an e-book entitled “ Healing Touch of Poetry ”.

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MÁRCIA CUMBUNGUE UPEME Chissola , whose literary and
artistic pseudonym is Márcia Crismar . Daughter of Jorge Chissola
and Inês Upeme, born on March 11, 2005, born in Luachimo, province
of Lunda Norte, municipality of Chitato.
Angolan nationality.
Resident in Lunda Norte, municipality of Chitato, Muanguvo
neighborhood, student of the pedagogy course at the 11 November
Teaching School in Chitato.
My taste for writing/literature awakened in the year 2023, until
then I never stopped, thanks to my poet friends.
Today I am known as Márcia Crismar.
I'm participating in an anthology.
Social media:
Facebook: Márcia Crismar
Instagram: Márcia MC Crismar
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Tik tok: Marcia00
Email: marciamccrismar@gmail.com
My phrases used in poems:
Smile... You are being loved.
Just me
Cordially, Marcia Crismar.

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 .
MARY BAGESTEIRO
I love writing and reading. In the middle of the night I like to look
at the stars. I'm from Rio Grande do Sul, Porto Alegre. I really like
looking for meanings for all existence. I'm imaginative, I was once a
dreamer. I like fantastic realism. Through my writings, I ask permission
to come to you. I leave here my tribute to my state, RS, which is still
suffering from the flood that hit, bringing unhappiness and a lot of
"sadness".

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MARIA EUGÉNIA ANTÓNIO Daniel (Mary Jane) , born on June
14, 2003, Angola - Luanda, university student studying Accounting
and Finance, daughter of Ludi Kitomessanza Daniel and Feliciana
Isabel and sister of three boys and one girl.
He has been writing stories for pure entertainment since he was
10 years old, but he abandoned them during his adolescence and in
adulthood he returned to his writings, including poems on various
subjects. She is the author of the short stories Hospício (1 and 2)
and the book of poems Estilhaços: pieces of poetry, and last year she
participated in the anthology I promise not to reveal the secret of the
church of the Projecto Meras Palavras.

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NÚRIA MATHIAS (NEGRARTE) , born in Angola, Luanda, on
November 14, 2004, poet and reciter, lover of culture, appreciator and
maker of arts.

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PEDIVALDO CLÁVE FRANCISCO, born on March 24, 1998 in
Luanda, Angola, is a Master's student in Public Health, postgraduate in
pedagogical aggregation and is also a University Professor, Writer and
Poet and Speaker. An excellent lover of reading.
Pedivaldo Cláve, is the author of the following works: Reflexões
do Cláve, 16 Ecstases of Love, Safes Where I keep everything of me,
Por aqui I Write (collection of poems and poets) and Ubuntu. He
participated in the poetic anthology Tu Soneka Pala Ana Ndengue.
Participated in the international Anthology the root of the
threatened future.

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 PAULO FRANCISCO GONÇALVES Pseudonym Poeta Falso,
born on September 16, in the province of Kwanza Norte, is a talented
young man in writing, a lover of prose and poetry and short stories,
acquiring experience and improving his works every day. Author of the
book VIVER PARA SER, One of the authors of the book Hematoma
Social with Noi Souza (Brazil)
One of the authors of the book Cape in tears with the Mozambican
writer Poet Father of literature, organizer of the international
Anthology the root of the threatened future.
Participated anthologies :
✓ Anthology From Ashes to New;
✓ Birth Brazil/Africa;
✓ Spring Season Anthology;
✓ Brazil/Africa;
✓ Anatomia do Musseque Anthology (National);
✓ Anthology Between verses and Flowers (Brazil);
✓ Anniversary anthology from the publisher Esperance (Brazil);
✓ Collection between verses and Flores (Brazil).

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He participated in several international and national literature
competitions.
Author's social networks:
Facebook: Roma Francisco Gonçalves
YouTube: Fake Poet
Tiktok: Fake Poet
WhatsApp: +244942951221
Instagram: Roma Poeta Falso.
Email: Romapoetafalso@gmail.com

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OSVALDO USSIEL FRANCISCO Baltazar / Rei Poeta
Son of Ludi Geraldo Baltazar and Vanda da Graça Francisco, born
in Bengo, province of Bengo, born on 19-05-1997. Graduated from
the Agostinho Neto University Faculty of Social Sciences in the
Geodemography course, specializing in Demography. He is a teacher,
journalist, writer and poet.

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 José Francisco Manuel Lumbo , known as Poeta Menor, is from
Angola, born on April 2, 2004 in the province of Luanda,
municipality of Cacuaco.
He attended the school complex Escolinha da Paz N°5056, an
institution where he completed his secondary education in "Economic
and Legal Sciences". He attended the training center "Se Deus Quiser",
a center where he completed a professional course in refrigeration and
air conditioning. in the 1st year at Universidade Agostinho Neto
(faculty of humanities), in the Language and Literatures in Portuguese
Language course. He has been passionate about writing since his
adolescence, presumably since 2016 or 2017.

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Samira Reis is from Tocantins, was raised in the federal capital and
has been writing for years, keeping her stories in a drawer, until now.
Student, writer, mother and poet.

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UBAITE ZAINADINE PAULO Manasse , a passionate about
agriculture whose career began in broiler chicken production and
expanded to agricultural technical assistance at Hidroffarm Lda, in
Katembe. Over the years, he developed advanced skills in data
collection and project management systems as an Agricultural
Technical Consultant at DSG GOO EXPRESS, standing out for his
capacity for innovation and teamwork. In addition to his career in
agriculture, he has had a passion for literature and writing since he
was young. I seek to convey their experiences through verses in poems,
drawing inspiration from the day-to-day life of our society.

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Numélie Baptista Tchiteculo , known by the pseudonym Unkulu
D´Papel, was born in Angola on June 6, 2005, in the province of
Huambo. Daughter of Arão Tchiteculo and Isabel Augusta Baptista,
both Angolans. Since the age of 11, he has demonstrated a vocation
for writing and in 2020 he honed his passion for writing,
consolidating it as an integral part of his creative identity.

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XITUCULUANA , pseudonym of Elídio Ermelinda Vilanculo ,
Mozambican writer and poet, born on March 23, 2002 in the city of
Maxixe. He is a young man immensely passionate about art and does
not see himself giving up literature. He has skills to write any kind of
emotional and sentimental text for any event or celebration. Regarding
other information about Xituculuanana 's life , it is an endless labyrinth.
One can only say that he is a writer and reciter, the future author of
many great literary works.

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