Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee

Kaizen 

The autumnal Bliss
Collecting paper flowers
A marlboro bough 
Cherry blossoms in a night travelled road
Dark like night sheets 
Rooted deeply in parks 
Funeral coats are funny 
Dusts to dusts 
While counting each moments
Loose ends
Piano players are happiest
Yeats was right
So were Poets 
Fool's paradise
Dark rhythms I conceive you
My Muse of torpedo blue 
Little Bluebird of my chainmail desks
My autumnal pinings 
La Vie en rose 
Gold hearts get noticed
Poets are happiest
In a sense 
Paradise eden 
Lean in art's bosom. 
I summon my Autumn. 


Synchronized Chaos Mid-October 2024: The Shared Human Imagination

A human head rising out of the ground with a large medieval castle and trees growing out of it. Trees, rocks, and a lake below, clouds and sunset/sunrise above.
Image c/o Circe Denyer

Judge Santiago Burdon offers his new collection A Charlatan’s Aphorisms for review. Please contact us if you’re interested and we’ll put you in touch with him for a copy.

This is a Best of Collection of both past and new poetry by Judge Santiago Burdon. They were selected by dedicated readers and past publishers. Some have appeared in his books “Not Real Poetry” and “Tequilas Bad Advice Poetry With the Worm.” Judge Santiago Burdon’s poetry is a sophisticated slap in the face. The imagery induces you to clear your throat and shift your weight from one side to the other. Santiago doesn’t waste his words in an attempt to make you comfortable. As a poet he delivers defined grit and structured devastation. He speaks in the language of gasoline fumes and stale cigarette smoke. Always honest and fearless, never apologizing. Know that I am a fan.”

(Jack in the box popping out on the cover of Santiago’s book)

Now for our second October issue, The Shared Human Imagination. In this issue, we look to and draw upon our own creativity and love and that of the many who came before us.

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa reflects on life’s complexity and on the overlap between poetry and music. J.J. Campbell’s curmudgeonly poetry explores age, loneliness, music and regret. Murrodillayeva Mohinur mourns her rejection by false friends as Ilhomova Mohichehra celebrates the refuge she finds in her dreams. Umida Jonibekova writes eloquently of clouds and rain.

Diana Magallon crafts visual poetic pieces on the movement of the ocean. Dilnura Qurolova highlights the importance of ecology and environmental awareness. Brian Barbeito probes the worlds within worlds in out-of-the-way corners within nature.

Raquel Barbeito’s visual art stylizes nature-based images. Kylian Cubilla Gomez’ photography presents images of cultivation, humans carefully sharing space with and working with the natural world.

Angled-up image of a green pair of tomatoes growing on a stalk near a rake on a sunny day.
Image c/o Charles Rondeau

Ilhomova Mohichehra revels in the natural and cultural beauty of her Uzbek homeland and also her native region of Zarafshan. Nodira Jorayeva celebrates Uzbekistan’s rich and noble history as Mahliyo Sunnatullayeva reflects on the cultural heritage of Uzbekistan. Rajarbona Sarvinoz looks to ancient Uzbekistan, outlining Central Asian historical leader Amir Temur’s aqueduct engineering. K.C. Fontaine relishes the rich Latin culture of Chicago’s Logan Square.

Otayeva Dinora highlights the dignity and importance of the teaching profession. Rayhona Sobirjonova offers up praise for a respected teacher as Saydinqulova Elenora Olimovna presents solid life advice in the form of a letter to a friend and classmate. Barnoxon Ruxieva celebrates Uzbekistan’s well-developed education system, in particular its Barkamol Avlod children’s schools.

Bardiyeva Dilnura evokes the poetic beauty of the Uzbek language. Charos Toshpulatova outlines the importance and unique value of sign language. Abduvahidova Farangiz compares and contrasts physical books and e-books. Nathan Anderson describes the finely crafted musical language of Sanjeev Sethi’s poetry collection Legato without a lisp.

In a piece of literary analysis, Z.I. Mahmud discusses how Philip Larkin’s poem Whitsun Weddings depicts social and ecological changes in England after the First World War.

Mark Young probes an imagined world in a fresh set of his “geographies,” digitally altered photos integrated with visual art. J.D. Nelson peers at the edges of his world through a fresh set of monostichs. Jim Meirose sends up a quirky story on pleasure and its aftermath. Jake Cosmos Aller depicts a fanciful wild night whirling and drinking through the solar system.

Stylized white flowers with large ragged petals and a yellow center. Graceful translucent curves throughout the work.
Image c/o Omar Sahel

Fhen M. speculates on how the element of mystery attracts us to Magritte’s paintings. Soren Sorensen shares a sunset image and a metallic melting clock, perhaps Dali-inspired.

Stephen Jarrell Williams sends in gentle vignettes of hope and faith while Mahbub Alam describes love as one of humanity’s lofty aspirations.

Mesfakus Salahin considers his psychological complexity and fallibility in light of a great love that leaves him humbled. Duane Vorhees reflects on memory, love, and the ironies of life. Lan Qyqualla draws on history and memory in his poetic vignettes of love and connection. Ivan Pozzoni orates in English and Italian on human history, love, beauty, and tragedy.

Michael Robinson speaks to the peace he found through a relationship with Jesus.

Xavier Womack offers love and respect to a spiritual mother figure embracing the world. Leslie Lisbona reflects on the death of her mother and the empathy she finds through a classic novel and the broader human imagination.

Woman with a ponytail of indeterminate race (silhouetted) reading a book by the ocean on a pier. Sun shines through clouds at sunset or sunrise.
Image c/o Mohamed Mahmoud Hassan

Rukshona Rasulova celebrates her deceased grandmother’s long and loving life as Murrodillayeva Mohinur contemplates her mother’s steady love. Maknuna Oblaqulova honors her parents and their love. Iroda Abdusamiyeva mourns her deceased grandmother and celebrates her life. Orinbaeva Lalezar Azadbay reflects on losses in her life, especially her dearly departed parents. Taylor Dibbert reflects on his deep love for his departed dog.

Holy Henry Dasere laments some universal struggles of young womanhood as Graciela Noemi Villaverde highlights women’s determined struggle for equality and safety. Hilola Abdullayeva discusses ways to psychologically support people recently released from jail and prison.

A. Iwasa reviews activist and anti-fascist professor Josh Fernandez’ memoir The Hands That Crafted the Bomb as an exploration of how to take youthful brash exuberance into adulthood. Dr. Jernail S. Anand warns us about the danger of words to ignite hatred and violence, how the computer keyboard in the wrong hands can be more dangerous than a bomb.

Ahmad Al-Khatat’s poetry evokes sorrow over the loss of love and human experience as well as life in wartime. David Sapp speaks to how ordinary people react to global tragedies as Alexander Kabishev continues his grisly tales of the brutality Russians suffered during the siege of Leningrad. J.K. Durick explores new poetic ways the world could end.

Eva Petropolou encourages the world to choose peace and tolerance as Daniel De Culla urges the world’s people to end the shameful tradition of hate. Mykyta Ryzhykh laments environmental destruction, war, and a personal heartbreak in his poetry. Pat Doyne pokes fun at Donald Trump’s style and ethics in her poem of warning.

Man of indeterminate race and light skin in a business suit stands with his back to us in front of two paths on a paved road. There's a hillside and tree, leafy and green on one side and black and white and barren on the other. Moon in the top in both photos, an eagle flies above straddling the photos as the man does.
Image c/o Digital Media

Jacques Fleury urges us to get beyond our fear and welcome the “other,” those unlike us. Bill Tope’s poems highlight the pain children went through before we understood learning disabilities and neurodiversity.

Childhood is a time of both wonderment and danger. Botiraliyeva Gavharoy outlines first aid for a choking child. Isabel Gomez de Diego’s photos show a small child experiencing new spaces: a ship preserved on land with a carved mermaid on the prow, a park train with a red caboose.

As we grow, we try new things, sometimes get disappointed, learn, and move forward. Panijeva Dilnavo Shukurvna celebrates the youth of Central Asia and expresses her wish for her generation to thrive and triumph. Rukhshona Rasulova urges brave and dedicated work towards our goals. Orzigul Sherova highlights the importance of motivation in reaching one’s goals. Alex Stolis’ poems draw on addiction as a motif and speak to waiting, hoping, and being stuck.

Dilbar Koldoshova Nuraliyevna’s poetic speaker reflects on how her heart and intentions were pure, even if her goals did not work out.

Maja Milojkovic encourages us at any age to embrace blessings in our lives, with the understanding that they are temporary.

We hope that this issue will be thought-provoking and a blessing in your life.

Essay from Dr. Jernail S. Anand

Older seated South Asian man in a purple turban and purple suit.

WORLD PEACE AND THE ANATOMY OF TERROR

“When we have words, why come to swords?” – Anand

Terror is generally assumed to be a sect which writes the word  ‘world’ in fire and treats it with bombs. A faith which is practised by a few people who feel they have been maltreated by the majority. It is a way of taking on the world with a fiery might, and force the  world to consider what wrong they have committed. It is giving the civilization a turn to the right by blasting the left side. 

THE SECTOR OF PEACE

There are a large number of  people in the world who really believe in peace and tranquillity. These are the people who have imbibed the essence of their respective religions. Who believe in their job, and in comparative peace which means, living in co-existence. Because the number of such people is far greater than those who want to destabilize the world and destroy it, for their injured merit, world peace has a chance, and it is still a veritable movement. 

Between these two extremes, is a third section of world society, who are not actively engaged in acts of terror, but who also do not believe in a happy world. They do not use bombs, but they take recourse to philosophy, or no philosophy, and these are the people who harbour hatred for peace and good will, and who keep on harping on a world on the boil which they think is the best. They have words charged with high hyperbole which do not inspire, but instigate mindless people to act. They throw words which fall on the world society as bombs. They have no faith in the multi-world that we are living in. 

The reality of the world is that no single sect or religion can claim to possess  ultimate truth. Each religion and each Prophet was right in his own right. He talked of God, of godliness, of goodness and co-existence. But they turned belligerent and took to swords when their followers wanted to multiply their power, because power lay in the increasing number of followers.  Then, they fought the unbelievers, vanquished them, and converted them, or the powerful happened to eliminate the less powerful.

This world has been like this.  If not terror, love for violence runs in our arteries. And what really surprises gods is not when we are talking of violence, but they are shaken with disbelief when they see us talking of peace. They know, we are not so much religious as political, and the most religious of us are called ‘statesmen’ in a high flown language.   

I was talking of the third sector in the world population who have a blood stream in which violence remains at the subterranean level, and surfaces very rarely yet, there is no possibility it can be eliminated altogether. These are the people who are the real leaders of the terror-mongers in the world. These are the people who phrase words and sentences in such a way, that they appear to be talking of peace, but actually, they end up stoking fires of distrust and mutual acrimony. They throw words, which the front runners, turn into bombs. In fact, the these are the people who justify what the real terror groups are doing. They are not spreading hatred. They are acting it out. They do not spread the idea of killings. They actually inflict killings.

They are the end-users of the ideas of ultimate acrimony between nations, groups and individuals. We should not forget that no action is self-created, or complete in itself. Every action is rooted in society. There are a huge majority of people who support what they are doing. If the entire world enounces terror, it would be finished in no time. The problem with the world is there are huge chunks of people, the third sector, as I mentioned above, who utter such words and phrases and coin slogans, which boil the blood of the trigger-happy youth. Add to it the religious massage, of their minds, which tells them, they are acting at the behest of gods. 

THE INTELLECTUAL CORE 

The most dangerous segment of terror is not those who inflict it, they are not many, and the world governments are capable of keeping them contained and constrained. That is why, terror activities are few and far between. But what is constantly happening is the role of third sector of society which keeps the pot boiling.

They are dignified members of social groups, mostly politically empowered and religiously well placed. They are the conduits of the killer philosophies. They are in every religion, in every society, and every sect, and their voice carries weight. If we want to fight terror, we should understand that bombs and swords are not terror. Nor the hands that throw grenades. The real terrorists are those who make these hands move, and these minds astir with base passions and dingy dreams of blood and gore. Gods have nothing to do with such acts. They do not patronise anyone who sets out to kill people or devastate homes. Those who organize mass killings are people who have lost their way. And, the real people who are responsible for this trade of terror are those who direct their steps, who tell the way, and who call it officially correct. Rather than religious, terror is a political game, and the philosophers of terror use the lesser mortals as cat’s paw.

To combat terror, strong arm methods of prevention are already in position. But I think they need to be disabled at the philosophical level also. We need a movement that believes in transforming the extreme philosophies to look at things more rationally so that the precious lives of those who are killed in encounters could be saved. When we have words, why come to swords? 

Author: Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, President of the International Academy of Ethics, is the author of 167 books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, and spirituality. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great Award by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade, and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. The Academy of Arts and philosophical Sciences of Bari  [Italy] honored him with the award of  Seneca Award Laudis Charta. Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur. Recently, he organized an International Conference on Contemporary Ethics at Chandigarh. His most phenomenal book is Lustus:The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahkaal Trilogy]. [Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com Mobile: 919876652401[Whatsapp] [ethicsacademy.co.in]Link Bibliography:https://atunispoetry.com/2023/12/08/indian-author-dr-jernail-s-anand-honoured-at-the-60th-belgrade-international-meeting-of-writers/https://sites.google.com/view/bibliography-dr-jernal-singh/home

Poetry from Saydinkqulova Elenora Olimovna

Teen Uzbek girl with braids and a white blouse and black skirt holding a book. She's in front of a bookshelf full of books and a photo of a distinguished gentleman.

TO MY FRIEND

Speak big, but take a bigger bite of bread,  
For things don’t always go as planned ahead.  
Be eager to grow, don’t envy the rest,  
Luck won’t come just when you request.  

This world is wrapped in trials and strife,  
Sometimes you’ll stumble through the depths of life.  
Your stance, once tall, might bend in the breeze,  
And you’ll wonder when you fell to your knees.  

Tears may flow as regrets fill your chest,  
But time, once lost, won’t give you its rest.  
You can’t erase mistakes of the past,  
Life’s law is clear, they’re meant to last.  

Learn to rise when you stumble and fall,  
Set your goal high, let that be all.  
When faced with hurdles, fight and strive,  
Your foes will never arrive as friends.  

Action, action, don’t ever cease,  
Stand strong, my friend, never release.  
In this world, everyone has their fight,  
Never let them bend your might.  

Study and learn with all that’s provided,  
Your teachers guide you, always reminded.  
Defeat is the lesson, a gift in disguise,  
May God light your path toward the skies!

Saydinqulova Elenora Olimovna was born on June 24, 2008, in Kattakurgan district, Samarkand region. She is a 10th-grade student at the 66th General Education School in Kattakurgan district. In 2022, she took 3rd place in the district stage of the “Young Reader” competition. In 2022, she also secured 2nd place in the district stage of the “Zulfiyaxonim’s Daughters” contest and 2nd place in the district stage of the intellectual game “Zakovat,” becoming a participant in the regional stage. Her creative works have been published in the “Kattakurgan: Yesterday and Today” newspaper. She is a participant in international competitions and festivals. Her poems are regularly published in newspapers and magazines across the country.

Poetry from Murrodillayeva Mohinur

Central Asian teen girl with long dark hair and a red blouse with buttons and white ruffles.

I’M TRULY TIRED OF YOU ALL

The wound in my heart,  
When will it heal, I don’t know,  
No cure exists for this pain,  
No doctor’s found it, though.  

My enemies wait for me to break,  
They open the door to betrayal’s wake.  
Maybe now, it’s finally enough,  
I’M TRULY TIRED OF YOU ALL.  

You fear not God’s wrath above,  
Even poison you’d gladly shove.  
Tell me, when will you turn to grace?  
I’M TRULY TIRED OF YOU ALL!  

In front, you stand as if you’re strong,  
Behind, you stab—like you’ve all along.  
On my path, you scatter thorns,  
I’M TRULY TIRED OF YOU ALL!!  

I’m the bad one, go ahead and claim,  
Keep saying you’re the victor of the game.  
Gossip about me, add to my blame,  
I’M TRULY TIRED OF YOU ALL.  

Murodillayeva Mohinur is a 10th-grade student at the 44th General Secondary School of G’uzor district, Qashqadaryo region.

Poetry from Sobirjonova Rayhona

Teen Central Asian girl in a black coat and white blouse. She's got small earrings and dark hair up in a bun.

My dear sister Madina,  
In the sky’s clear embrace today,  
A melody echoes in a long, soft way.  
Thank you, dear teacher, for all that you gave,  
For sharing your knowledge, so wise and so brave.  

This world is flawed without you, my guide,  
In subjects so needed, you walked by my side.  
Because of you, I’ve come this far,  
Turning the pages of books full of stars.  

You showed me myself, took me by the hand,  
Even when I strayed, you’d patiently stand.  
For me, you’ve given your everything whole,  
Enduring the burdens, like my mother’s soul.  

My teacher, my father, so grand in your grace,  
I sing out your praises, with rhythm I chase.  
Madina, my teacher, you’re the best there could be,  
My spring in full bloom, you’re the summer to me.  

With you here, I smile and live without fear,  
One day, I’ll be just like you, that is clear.  
The world will look on, admiring us both,  
I’ll pave the ground with flowers, to show you my oath.  

In my heart, you’ll stay cherished forever,  
From you, I’ll take lessons, growing more clever.  
My being and soul are alive by your grace,  
Each time I see you, my heart starts to race.  

Grateful am I for you, my dear guide,  
Let my voice soar to the heavens, far and wide.  
Your name, I’ll make into a tale of my own,  
Each time I see you, joy brightly is shown.  

Madina, my world, you light up my skies,  
Like the lovely basil by the water lies,  
With you, every moment of life is so sweet,  
Stay well, dear teacher, my heart skips a beat.

I am Sobirjonova Rayhona, a 10th-grade student at the 8th General Secondary School in Vobkent district, Bukhara region. I was born in December 2008 in Chorikalon village, Vobkent district, into an educated family.