Thanks, 2023!
The year is coming to an end. At the end of each year, the old year is summarized. New plans and dreams are set for the new year. It is a very enjoyable work for me too.
Today, when I look at the past year, I saw a lot of good and bad events. They are all gone and it is impossible to change them. But it is possible to draw the right conclusions from the mistakes of the past year and welcome the new year with strength from the successes.
For the past year, I have tried to achieve my goals as much as I can. Of course, the result is not bad. At the beginning of 2023, my personal book was published in America and was put on sale in 26 countries of the world. It inspired me to create even more. I stepped into the international world. Many of my creative works have been published in international newspapers and magazines. At the same time, I was recognized by the international newspaper "The Daily Global Nation" as an ambassador of international peace. I participated in the II International Congress "Youth Tourism", which left me with beautiful memories and great impressions. I was in the youth circle, in the conversation of my peers.
I actively participated in international conferences and projects.
With my article, I won the 2nd place in the competition of traditional creative works of the Republic of Uzbekistan, "Protect Wealth from Childhood", announced by the favorite newspaper of children and teenagers in Uzbekistan, "Tong Yuzi".
I am happy to say that I spent the year with beautiful memories, kind words, wonderful books and good people. I tried to sweeten myself, my dreams and words, to live happily. So many times I felt infinite gratitude with all my heart. I loved God! There were so many beautiful messages that I cried. I took a risk and trusted him, and it turned out to be good.
But there were many difficulties, problems and worries. I wanted to laugh it all off! I chose long roads and sleepless nights. Because it's all for my future! But I am always grateful to my parents who always supported me in such difficult times. They inspired, gave the best of motivation.
I am very happy now that I am summarizing my two years. I intend to fulfill my intentions next year.
Dear friends, I wish you endless happiness, joy and success in the New Year! Love yourself! Live every moment! If you stay at night work, be fascinated by the beauty of the moon and stars. And don't forget to give thanks for the sun every day!
Shahnoza Ochildiyeva
Uzbekistan❤️
Espresso and Tequila
Like espresso and tequila our
love is a warm thirst to the spirit.
You make me remember all of
the blessings and memories we have.
Dreaming of you is as a lover
flying above a sky made of water.
Your scent is the air of lusty touch,
and the breathe for the thirsty tongue.
The world is made from a beautiful star,
so your heart must be my homeland.
We kissed and cuddled on the longest
night of the year, we didn’t open wounds.
Don’t measure, just break my boundaries.
This pack of cigarettes heals me from my
my long glowing silence and rusty misery.
Take a sip of my liquor and smile on my aches.
In The Midst Of My Sorrows
When I write about freedom, it’s not
not a statement against any civilian.
Bullets and gravestones made me laugh
about how my grandpa judge life as a joke.
My friend tells me that I should learn to
say no, does that mean I should under_
_line every drunken moments of loneliness,
and turn them into a thick hanging cords.
My name never appears on your readings,
Some soft hands have become more dusty
I wonder if I should leave and let them inhale
all the leftover breathes of this mad universe.
There is no hope from the past, but why do
I need to feel optimistic about today’s battles?
With both of my hands, I’m writing day and night
of how relaxing I am not in the midst of my sorrows.
12/24/2023
B.H.P
___________
An award-winning author, poet, and former Evergreen Valley College English Professor, Sterling Warner’s works have appeared many literary magazines, journals, and anthologies including Danse Macabre, Trouvaille Review, Lothlórien Poetry Journal,Ekphrastic Review, andSparks of Calliope. Warner’s collections of poetry/fiction include Rags and Feathers, Without Wheels, ShadowCat, Edges, Memento Mori: A Chapbook Redux, Serpent’s Tooth, Flytraps, Cracks of Light: Pandemic Poetry & Fiction 2019-2022, Halcyon Days: Collected Fibonacci, Abraxas: Poems (2024), and Masques: Flash Fiction & Short Stories. Presently, Warner writes, hosts/participates in “virtual” poetry readings, turns wood, and enjoys retirement in Washington.
This Doesn’t Take Place In Florida
I live alone in the woods but
I am still less alone than
Most people in human history
Because I have a phone
In a few days I will go to a funeral
In a big city
Where someone will tell me his life story
He grew up in Florida
Has returned to Florida
It was hard for him in Florida
Which sounds exactly like
Everywhere else
I have been to Florida
But not for a long time
So it is not part of my life story
But most people have the same life story
If you just insert your own details
Mentally replacing “Florida” for
Your personal “Florida”
I have considered my life
In its totality and strangeness
More recently than I’ve been to Florida
So basically I was in Florida
If Florida is a metaphor
For the place where things happened
In your life story
Instead of it being the state called Florida
Sometimes I wait for a new life
I wait for it to emerge from the trees
I wait and I wait
And it does not appear
But that does not dissuade me
From trying again at some point in the future
At a funeral people will try and tell
Someone’s life story
Since that person is not there to tell it
They do a decent job usually
Considering it is not possible
The World Where it Rains
The rain is continuous and forever
Nobody knows how long it has been raining
It has been raining since we can remember
So long that now we don’t call it raining anymore
In the raining world I decide I will
Quit my job and move far away
Then go grocery shopping
To celebrate
That it will always rain
Before anyone speaks to me they are beautiful
In the aisles they are being beautiful
They have come out of the rain to be with me
And we will frolic among the groceries
But then they speak to me
And ruin it all
I think of the specific flavor of candy I want to buy
And I can’t recall the brand
Or maybe they don’t make it anymore
So yes, we can want things that are gone I guess
We unconsciously pine for the sun
That we no longer even remember
Or who people could have been
Before they started talking
I think about
When I move and
When this is no longer “my” store
I will love it so fucking much then
But not before then
Somehow
That night it stops raining when
I am at the gas station
It is just me and the gas station
Oh and also the guy that works at the gas station
I remember that I miss everyone who is not me and the guy at the gas station
In the world where it is not raining now
It can be different
Because when something changes you know
It has just begun changing
And soon it will be the rest of everything changing
Forever
And it will continue this way
And I will move far away
And be in the sun
Leaves (Leaves)
A mental image of me covered in leaves
Exponentially decreasing in size relative to the pile of leaves
Completely minimized by nature (leaves)
Until eventually everything else becomes secondary to leaves
To the massive foliage dome of leaves
Nothing else matters but the leaves
But these are just imagined leaves
I made up for this poem
So there are no leaves actually
And the world is as it is
And I say it is a pile of leaves
In a poem about leaves
Which is to say
Metaphorically and not literally so
----------------------------------------------------------------------
the chinese alphabet
i dread the holidays
mostly because i grew
up on dysfunction
normal shit is as foreign
to me as the chinese
alphabet
but i'm old now
crazy left years ago
i seek the quiet
never minded being
alone, just never wanted
to be lonely
the phone won't ring
on christmas
all my former friends
have their families
and the friends they
are using now
i'll turn on some music
something dark and melodic
we never even bother to
put up a tree anymore
somewhere charlie brown
is laughing
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
while alone in the shower
she reminds you of
a ghost from your past
listens to mozart
while humming
in spanish
pretends to play
the slide trombone
while alone in the
shower
her kisses taste
like you were
born on the
wrong planet
she once kissed me
on my lips and told
me to close my eyes
i never saw her again
---------------------------------------------------------
plastic bombs in the sand
insomnia dances
like a lost lover
strung out on neon
lights and a gentle
line of cocaine
think of all the years
since our lips first met
then ponder how each
of us should already
be dead
rainbows and smiles
plastic bombs in the sand
maybe one day the poor
won't have to fight a rich
man's war
i know
long after most of the planet
ceases to exist
you ever learn to speak
another language
yeah
i can say fuck fluently
in nearly all of them
that's really all you need
------------------------------------------------------
make believe brilliance blah blah blah
long lines
rising prices
i knew there was a reason
i never wanted children
and all the good alcohol
is too expensive
and the shit i can afford
is only meant to harm
the liver faster
i put on some charlie parker
and wonder which will
come first
the first line of a poem
or a fresh vein
don't worry
if i can't afford the alcohol
how the fuck can i afford
the drugs
poem after poem
make believe brilliance
blah blah blah
maybe santa should actually
bring me some scratch offs
that are winners
----------------------------------------------------------------
way too early in life
the darkest eyes
cover up the most
pain
her smooth skin
tasted like all my
nightmares made
into an off broadway
play
the twinkling lights
are supposed to be
joyful
you've seen too
many movies
about small
towns
backwoods killers
and all the children
that succumb to reality
way too early in life
the holidays are rarely
happy
no snow for christmas
just rain
endless fucking rain
misery fit for everyone
around here
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) was raised by wolves yet managed to graduate high school with honors. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Dumpster Fire Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Asylum Floor and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Singular Universe“What you do not have you find everywhere.” — W. S. Merwin
Words harden in recollection.
Pull each one towards you,
cry like they seem evil.
Lay out some traps
for half a dozen—it’s a craft:
fool an infinitive
into holding out for hope.
You don’t need
a permit to live inside your head—
put a foot on the ladder.
Copy out a line:
the sounds of a singular
universe being built.
Call to Action
A great deal of latitude
and an abundance of caution
can be an isolating experience—
what greater enemy does one have
than oneself?
When the ink hits the screen,
it is an indispensable bit
of programming—the totality
of what you did or said
in the aboveground world.
Source: A remix/cut-up composed from select words and phrases found between pages 11 & 60 of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin.The Creative Process
Imagine the scent
of fine paper in summer—
a time when one’s taste exceeds
one’s abilities.
To sense your decay
is not the same as loving it.
A bromide
about the creative process
is that you are often
nostalgic for a candy
you have never even tasted.
Or, to oversimplify,
it is the erasure of mortality
in the sometimes-painful present.
Source: A remix/cut-up composed from select words and phrases found between pages 20 & 86 of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin.A Rainbow Every Day
for R
Carry off a little darkness
one piece at a time.
I’ve been around for long—
there’s a reason why all sinners are saints.
You’ll know it’s me when I come
through the road to happiness.
Allow me to introduce myself—
a victim of the times,
the gods they made
of you and me.
We didn’t start the fire
and tell the world that everything’s okay.
What else do I have to say?
I can’t take it anymore.
The words inside my head—a blitzkrieg—
but what’s puzzling you?
I get a unicorn out of a zebra,
the truth from a thousand lies.
I erase myself, clean this slate
with the hands of a believer.
I can’t be what I’m not.
There’s a game called circle—
as heads is tails.
I’d love to wear a rainbow every day.
Source: A remix/cut-up composed from lines and phrases from the following songs: “Sympathy for the Devil” by Rolling Stones, “Man in Black” by Johnny Cash, “One Piece at a Time” by Johnny Cash, “We Didn’t Start the Fire” by Billy Joel, “Believer” by Imagine Dragons, “What I’ve Done” by Linkin Park, “No Matter What” by Boyzone, and “I’m Not Afraid” by Eminem.Shloka Shankar is a poet, editor, and self-taught visual artist from Bangalore, India. A Best of the Net nominee and award-winning haiku poet, Shloka is the Founding Editor of Sonic Boom and its imprint Yavanika Press. Her debut full-length haiku collection, The Field of Why (Yavanika Press, India), was shortlisted for the Touchstone Distinguished Book Awards 2022. Website: www.shlokashankar.com | Instagram: @shloks23
