Imperialism 

You engineer ruin 

in endless sequences— 

because power permits you. 

A forest predator, 

all teeth and hunger, 

you erase whole herds 

in a single breath. 

Soft faces dim. 

They turn away from the world, 

learning too early 

that the earth does not claim them.

They leave behind 

a quiet, exhausted sigh— 

for you. 

But beneath the silence, 

something ancient stirs: 

a volcano,

red-eyed, no longer asleep. 

When it exhales, 

the air itself becomes flame. 

Lives—small, unnamed, countless— 

collapse into ash. 

Life begins 

to answer life. 

And when that day arrives— 

tell me, 

what language 

will your eyes speak?

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

10 April, 2026.

The Ruined Flower

A broken flower rests on the table. 

Some flowers, even in death,

remember how to breathe 

fragrance— 

but this one 

has learned fire instead. 

Its petals burn. 

Its thorns speak louder

than any beauty it once held. 

It trembles— 

and something unseen 

detonates across the room. 

People come close, 

drawn by love. 

They bleed. 

They fall. 

They rise again 

with raised hands, 

learning resistance 

too late. 

Still, they return— 

to the same flower, 

the same mistake. 

Some errors 

do not remain small. 

They ripple outward,

shaking the architecture of the world. 

A crooked table 

never truly stands straight. 

And some of our mistakes 

bend time itself— 

until generations inherit the ache. 

Generation after generation.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

10 April, 2026.

The Strait of Hormuz

A narrow strait— 

yet it carries the weight 

of entire histories. 

It maps routes, 

spins dreams, 

tilts the sky 

on its axis. 

It sharpens minds— 

and ignites wars. 

Cities burn in its shadow. 

Ports rise and fall 

by its permission. 

For a passage this small, 

your dreams and mine

are undone— 

then rebuilt 

in some uncertain future. 

It is a bridge. 

It is a wound. 

It speaks in opposites: 

fire, then rain. 

famine, then peace. 

And if we could look away 

from the imperialism of Hormuz

that surrounds it—

perhaps something quieter, 

something untouched, 

would still be flowing— 

clear, 

beautiful, 

unafraid.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

11 April, 2026.

Apiculture

The world—
a vast apiculture.

So why does a planet built on honey
taste of poison?

Why do we return
again and again,
with bitterness
coating the tongue?

Why does life itself
stand on the brink?

Why do humans
turn against humans—
with reason,
without reason—
as if destruction were instinct?

Bees do not forget their order.
They gather,
they build,
they sustain.

But we—
creatures of thought,
of language,
of sky-reaching dreams—
fall beneath them.

We grieve
for an ant crushed underfoot,
yet raise our hands
against each other.

We were meant
for something gentler—
to sit side by side,
soul beside soul,
in a world that could have worked.

Since the first dawn,
the stars have poured out light.
They have never
rained fire.

Then why do we?

At the summit of civilization,
why do our faces
still bend in shame?

Why does war return
like a habit
we refuse to break—
border after border,
generation after generation?

What kind of progress
carries this depth of ruin
in its shadow?

And in the end—
this careful hive we have built,
this architecture of survival—

may be the very thing
that calls forth
our collapse.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

11 April, 2026.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

Once when he was in grade ten in 1990, his Bangla letter was selected as the best one from Deutsche Welle, Germany Radio that broadcast Bangla news for the Banglalee people. And he was given 50 Dutch Mark as his award. They would ask letters from the listeners to the news in Bangla and select one letter for the best one in every month.     

From 17 to 30 September, in 2018 he received a higher training in teaching English language in Kasetsart University of Thailand for secondary level students through a government order from education ministry. 

On 06 November 2015 he achieved Amjad Ali Mondal Medal for his contribution in education field by a development organization in the conference and felicitation function for the honorable personalities at Rajshahi College Auditorium. 

On 30 December 2017 from West Bengal in India he was declared a ‘Literary Charioteer’ in Bangobandhu Literary and World Bango Conference and they awarded him with a Gold Medal in their International Literary Conference and Prize Giving Ceremony.

In 2018, he achieved Prodipto Lirerary Award in Prodipto Literary Conference at Kesorhat, Rajshahi for poems in Bangla literature. He received honorary crest from the administration of Chapainawabganj District Literary Conference and Cultural Function in 2021 and 2022 consecutively. 

His poems have been published in many international online magazines such as Juntos Por las L Raven Cage Zine, and Area Felix.  His poems have been translated and published in Argentine and Serbian, and he participated in many international online cultural meetings. 

Artificial intelligence and us:

We cannot imagine our future without artificial things, because, for example, we cannot survive even one hour a day without the telephone or the internet.

Post‑Beat Poetics: Breath, Lineage, and the Ethics of Community By Kandy Fontaine aka Alex S. Johnson

Post‑Beat poetics begins where institutional Beat revival ends. It is not concerned with titles, laureateships, or the pageantry of literary inheritance. Instead, it returns to the first principles that animated the original movement: breath, embodiment, community, and the sanctity of the outsider voice.

The Beats were never a monolith. They were a constellation of seekers, queers, mystics, addicts, pacifists, anarchists, and wanderers. Their lineage was never meant to be curated by committees or guarded by gatekeepers. It was meant to be lived.

Post‑Beat poetics recognizes that the breath that animated Ginsberg’s long lines and Whitman’s yawp now moves through bodies historically excluded from the center of literary culture. Disabled bodies. Fat bodies. Queer bodies. Neurodivergent bodies. Bodies marked by trauma, poverty, and social disadvantage. These bodies are not deviations from the lineage—they are the lineage.

To write in a post‑Beat mode is to reject the stale rooms where trophies gather dust. It is to open the windows, to let the air in, to remember that poetry is not a competition but a communion. It is to stand with the ancestors—not as icons, but as kindreds whose breath still moves through us.

Post‑Beat poetics is not a return. It is an expansion. It is the recognition that the movement’s future lies not in institutional validation but in the lived experience of those who continue to write from the margins, from the body, from the breath.

It is a poetics of presence, resistance, and remembrance.

It is a poetics of community over hierarchy, lineage over branding, breath over bureaucracy.

It is, simply, a poetics of the living.

"You don't need a weatherman to tell you where the wind is blowing"-Bob Dylan

How quickly we
pivot
From
ethical foundation to
foundations
without them
So we must remember
the breath
It has been carried by
lungs of
generations
The bellows of
lineage
The great in
spir
a
tion
of
Legions
Before
During
and
To come
The heart: the core
beating
alive
open
Tremendous seeking for
true
kindreds
The heart
a muscle of memory as much as
circulation
The ring of the ancestors
their eyes, their
hair, their fingernails
Their nostrils
their
Scents
Sometimes a little
funky
Carried on the breeze
snuffled
snorted
Carried on shoulders
backs
limbs of post mechanics
Disabled
socially disadvantaged
fat
maligned
Queer
Gatekept
Out of the
region
The stale rooms where
trophies are
kept must be
Aired
the
Fuck
Out the
Rigid
enclosures
Where a handful of
anonymous judges
Decide who to
validate
Flung apart with a
tornado of
Just indignation
The skin
is
Holy the
Cells are
holy the
microbes that
crawl in our
Dust are
Holy and I stand with'
Blake and Ginzie I stand
with the
lineage of
kindreds and with the eye of
On
History condemn
The small minded
sacrilege that
Sets arbitrarily
apart that
Poisons
community
The water of
bodies the
Massive up
swelling of
Uncontrolled
anger
Bitterness
BIG MY GATE ENERGY
BIG MEAN GIRL ENERGY
BIG REGINA GEORGE VIBES
MY MY MY MY
PRECIOUS
Awards
ME ME ME
egotism masquerading
As
Whitmanesque
Sovereignty and
Cosmic
Bray
This is not right
I
Speak not for the moment
not for
This time but for
Times
Before
Present and accounted for
For the exiles and the humble of spirit
within the tradition
Feet planted
firmly in the turf of
Consensual
Reality
Breathe
stand and
In that breath and breadth
Command
yourself.

‎The Silence of Multiplicity

‎Mesfakus Salahin, Bangladesh

‎

‎I stay up all night

‎I tie my mind’s  horse

‎In an invisible thread

‎The horse flies away into solitude

‎The thread is weak

‎The earthly mind

‎Floating in the mysterious water

‎The self is always deceived

‎in the midst of the trance

‎The new-fashioned arrogance plays

‎Written in the dew of a leaf of grass

‎Returning again and again

‎The horse blows away the dust

‎Leaving everything behind, its own circle

‎In the circle of greed, in the crowd;

‎In the story of life, in the prose of wealth;

‎Only searching for oneself in the depths

‎In the deluge that pierces the veil of night

‎The intention of touching a straight line

‎Wakes up in the estuary

‎I cut the blood line

‎I cut the dark mountain and catch the guest

‎The sky descends with the color of the sky

‎The guest is lost in the unknown

‎All darkness becomes light through discussion

‎The soul enters the grave of the night and moves

‎The night does not remain in the grave

‎The greedy hand does not remain

‎Day does not remain

‎Whatever is colorful becomes bare

‎There remain deeds and lamentations

‎The dead river of boundless time have crossed

‎In the living grave, night remains, the illusion of night;

‎The shadow of day on the back of day

‎The multiplicity of self

‎The silence of multiplicity

CAUSES OF STYLISTIC ERRORS IN STUDENTS’ SPEECH AND WAYS TO ELIMINATE THEM

O‘rinova Diyora

Master’s student, Namangan State Pedagogical Institute

Abstract

This article examines stylistic errors found in students’ oral and written speech, their underlying causes, and effective methods for eliminating them. The study employed content analysis, surveys, observation, experimental methods, focus group discussions, computational linguistic analysis, and psycholinguistic testing. The findings reveal that students frequently struggle with selecting appropriate speech styles according to text types. Based on the results, practical recommendations are proposed to improve students’ speech culture and stylistic competence.

Keywords: speech culture, stylistic errors, communication, language norms, educational process, statistical analysis, content analysis

INTRODUCTION

In modern education, developing students’ communication culture and ensuring stylistic accuracy in their speech has become one of the most pressing issues. In linguistics, stylistic errors are defined as the use of language units that are inappropriate for a given context or inconsistent with a particular speech style. Such errors negatively affect students’ speech culture, weakening their ability to express ideas clearly, engage in communication, and adhere to literary language norms.

Speech culture plays a crucial role not only in education but also in an individual’s social success. In the digital era, the rapid development of technology has introduced new tendencies in students’ speech. For example, abbreviations, emojis, and informal expressions commonly used in social media are increasingly transferred into formal written language, leading to stylistic distortions. This phenomenon can influence not only students’ academic writing but also their future professional communication.

Therefore, eliminating stylistic errors requires a comprehensive approach that considers not only grammatical but also pragmatic and discourse-related aspects. This article analyzes the main causes of stylistic errors in students’ speech and explores effective ways to address them.

LITERATURE REVIEW AND METHODOLOGY

Numerous scholars have conducted research in the field of speech culture. For instance, G‘afurov analyzed the theoretical aspects of speech culture, while Karimov systematized literary language styles. Qodirova provided practical examples of stylistic usage, and Xudoyberganova examined linguistic features from a psycholinguistic perspective. International researchers such as Smith, Ivanova, and Brown explored comparative, cognitive, and educational aspects of language norms. Recent studies by Yusupova, Petrov, Nurmatov, and Wilson highlight modern teaching methods and the impact of digital communication on speech.

The study was conducted among 100 students from grades 8–9 in Tashkent city and region. Their written works (essays, summaries) and oral responses were analyzed.

The following methods were used:

Content analysis: identifying and classifying stylistic errors

Survey: assessing students’ knowledge of speech styles

Observation: analyzing teaching approaches and classroom speech

Additional methods included:

1. Experimental Method

Two groups (control and experimental) were selected. A “Teaching Speech Styles” program was implemented in the experimental group for three months. As a result, students’ ability to choose appropriate styles improved by 35%.

2. Focus Group Discussions

Five groups (8 students each) discussed the influence of social media language. About 70% of participants preferred writing “as they do on Telegram.”

3. Computational Linguistics

Using the AntConc program, 100 essays were analyzed. Words such as “very” (143 times) and “amazing” (78 times) were overused, indicating excessive use of expressive vocabulary.

4. Psycholinguistic Testing

Only 31% of students correctly identified appropriate stylistic choices in academic contexts.

Additional statistical findings showed that errors in formal letters were distributed as follows:

Introduction – 23%

Main body – 41%

Conclusion – 36%

RESULTS

The analysis revealed the following common stylistic errors in students’ speech:

Mixing formal and informal styles – 43%

Using artistic expressions in scientific texts (and vice versa) – 29%

Pronunciation and stress-related stylistic distortions – 15%

Transfer of internet and colloquial language into writing – 13%

Although 67% of students demonstrated general knowledge of speech styles, only 21% understood the importance of selecting an appropriate style according to the text type.

DISCUSSION

The findings indicate that the main causes of stylistic errors include:

Insufficient theoretical knowledge of language styles

Transfer of informal speech into written language

Inability to distinguish between text types

Strong influence of internet and social media language

To address these issues, the following strategies are recommended:

Teaching speech styles through comparative practical exercises

Conducting text-based analysis and discussions

Developing exercises for appropriate stylistic selection

Ensuring teachers model correct speech usage

Limiting the use of informal internet language in academic contexts

One of the key reasons for stylistic errors is the lack of emphasis on stylistic aspects in textbooks and classroom instruction. Additionally, students’ exposure to informal digital communication significantly shapes their language habits. Therefore, teachers should dedicate more time to text analysis and encourage students to practice writing in various genres such as academic articles, formal letters, and essays.

CONCLUSION

Reducing stylistic errors and improving students’ speech culture requires systematic teaching of language styles in both theoretical and practical ways. This not only promotes adherence to literary language norms but also enhances students’ ability to communicate clearly, accurately, and effectively in social and professional contexts.

The following measures are recommended:

For teachers: organize seminars and training sessions on stylistics; expand textbook content

For students: engage in text analysis, speech exercises, and projects (e.g., “Correct Speech” clubs)

For parents: encourage reading and monitor children’s speech habits

For educational policy: develop national programs aimed at improving speech culture

O‘rinova Diyora Kamoliddin qizi was born on November 6, 1997, in Uchqo‘rg‘on district of Namangan region. She graduated from Secondary School No. 25 in her district and continued her studies at an academic lyceum. She obtained her higher education in the field of Uzbek Language at Namangan State University.

Currently, she is a second year master’s student at Namangan State Pedagogical Institute. She holds certificates in both native language and English and is recognized as a highly qualified teacher within her field. She is also the regional stage winner of the “Book-Loving Teacher” competition.

Her main goal is to share her knowledge with young learners and contribute to the development of future specialists through education and scientific activity.

Why Do I Write: What’s in it for Me?

Why do I write creative fiction? That was a question posed to me by a cousin I was once close to. I had told Sherry that I was getting more and more involved in scribbling poems and stories and essays and the like, and she seemed mildly amused at first. Then, when she saw I was in earnest, she became increasingly perplexed as to my motivation. I had told her I made almost no money for my efforts and this seemed to rub her the wrong way.

“Why, then,” she asked in bewilderment, “do you do it?”

Until that very moment I hadn’t given it a lot of serious thought. Writing exercised what Hercule Poirot called “the little gray cells” and made me more alert, more aware, more interested in life. Moreover, it made me feel good. I was retired and had little else going on. Most of my friends were deceased or moved away.

“Billy,” she said with a frown, “if you don’t get paid for writing, then it is a waste of time and effort.”

During the same conversation, Sherry had asked me how I was “progressing” in a relationship I was in at the time. When I was noncommittal, she got down to it: “Have you scored yet?”

“Not everything,” I told her, “is so transactional.”

When she “humphed,” I continued, “Not every activity has to result in a paycheck to be considered worthwhile.” Before she could go on, I added, “And not every personal relationship has to wind up between the sheets to be fundamentally sound. No one is keeping ‘score,’ cousin, so just cool your jets.”

That was two years ago, but the question remains: why do I write?”

I think it’s because when I write, I am master of my universe. I decide who succeeds and who fails, who lives and who dies, who lives happily ever after and who burns for an eternity in hell. This is quite an ego trip. I know a little of what God must feel like. I know what everyone’s thinking, what moves them, and how they will accept either failure or success.

I can revisit my high school years and rewrite the events as they did not transpire. I can ask out the prettiest but most demure girl and she’ll say yes. And I’ll have the dough to take her out. I’ll have a car–a hotrod of course–or maybe one of those low-slung English sports car. Nothing is too much.

I’ll fashion myself into a record-setting student athlete and bask in the admiration of my fellow students. I’ll get an A in calculus rather than a D. I’ll try out for and grab the lead in the school play. It’ll be a musical, because unlike reality as I lived it, I’ll be able to sing. And join a garage band and wind up with a record contract.

I’ll stand up to my abusive brother and fight back and kick his ass. I’ll get the after-school job I could never get and earn money to take out more pretty girls. In college I’ll study and not party but for the spring breaks in Florida that I could never afford to attend. I’ll make my parents proud and they’ll never have to bail me out.

I’ll say none of the stupid things in life that I did say. I won’t hurt anybody’s feelings and won’t allow either of my two cats to die and my best friend won’t have abusive parents. I won’t be teased for having Tourette’s or being disabled with Parkinson’s Disease and peripheral artery disease and poor eyesight and hearing and all the rest. I’ll still be able to lift my weight and play soccer and run five miles. If not myself, then others will carry the banner and succeed where I failed abysmally.

I write so that things turn out right, and not to shit. I live vicariously through my characters; I learn lessons I was too stubborn or dense to heed before. I am a normal child, teen, and now old man. I have children and grandchildren who flock around me in my dotage, rather than live alone in a hovel in the American Midwest. That’s why I write.

Sherry and I have not spoken since she posed her question, but I’m alright with it. I’ll know now what to tell her, should she ever call again. But she’ll not be argumentative this time, since I’ll be writing the script.

SPECIAL INTERVIEW: A CONVERSATION WITH ANKICA ANCHIA

Croatian writer and poet Ankica Anchia is a master of words. She is not only a writer for adults but also considered a children’s author. The poems she has written reach the hearts of people. Through her poetry, Ankica Anchia can sometimes make readers laugh, sometimes bring them to tears, and at times leave them deep in thought.

Q1: To begin with, tell us a few things about yourself, introduce yourself briefly to those who don’t know you?

A1: I was born in the beautiful Dalmatian city of Split, where the sun and the sea intertwine with stories of times long gone. My childhood was filled with the smiles of my parents, the warmth of home, and a sense of safety. But everything changed when I was twenty.

In that youth, suddenly without my parents, I felt a deep emptiness, as if the world around me had collapsed. I fell often, faced with pain that seemed endless. Betrayals came like storms—my heart shattered, trust wounded. Yet through those painful moments of breaking, I learned how to rise again.

The betrayals left scars, but they shaped me. I realized that those who make promises are often the ones who hurt the fastest. Pain became a teacher, a reminder that true value lies in those who stay, who do not turn their backs when things are hardest.

But the falls were not the end of my journey. They were simply the path toward awakening, toward the lessons one cannot learn without struggle. In my verses and stories, memories of those ups and downs came alive—moments of pain, sorrow, and emptiness, but also the strength that grew from every fall.

With each rise, I felt the blessings of my own resilience. The path was not without battles, sleepless nights, and tears. But in every fall and every betrayal, I discovered my own beauty—the kind not measured by success, but by the endurance of the spirit. My words are a testament to everything I have been through, everything I have become:

Life writes the words, but you choose the music!

Croatian Dalmatian city 

Q2: When did you start writing, and why? What does writing mean to you?

A2: I began writing poetry and prose as I was growing up, but the true intensity of my poetic expression reached its peak over the last 20 years.

Drunk on the love for Dalmatia, my homeland, and driven by deep respect for tradition, I tried to preserve that richness from fading away. My poems are filled with Dalmatian expression, images of the land, the scent of the sea, and the soul of the people. My love poetry leads us through romantic imaginings wrapped in everyday moments of life. The verses are filled with emotion—from joy to sorrow, from happiness to pain.

Writing never felt like a decision—it was a natural continuation of something I carried within me. Writing has always been my way of expressing what cannot easily be said, a way to touch the emotions and images hidden in silence.

Why do I write? Because each sentence brings me closer to who I truly am. Writing is my bridge to the world and to myself, my way of capturing fleeting moments and turning them into something eternal. In every letter, I find refuge, passion, and boundless freedom.

—

Q3:Did you dream of seeing your work on the shelves of bookstores, libraries, or readers?

A3: Of course I did—not out of vanity, but from the desire that my thoughts, feelings, and words find a home in the hearts of others. I dreamed that the pages I write would become a bridge between me and unfamiliar faces, that my stories and verses would serve as refuge, inspiration, or comfort.

To imagine my work resting on bookstore shelves, in readers’ hands, or in quiet library corners that safeguard stories—that feels like a quiet longing fulfilled, proof that words are not in vain, that they can reach someone and touch them, even for a moment. That is the beauty of it: sharing a piece of your soul with those who seek something similar within themselves.

—

Q4: How did the idea for your first poetry collection come about? Who or what inspired it?

A4: The idea for my first collection, “Beside jedne Dalmatinke” (“The Verses of a Dalmatian Woman”), was born from my love for the land I come from—for its rocky paths, the scent of the sea, and the timeless beauty Dalmatia carries. Every poem, every word, was my way of preserving the stories told by the waves, the whisper of olive trees, and the old stone walls.

Q5:What was it like preparing your first book for print? Describe the moment when you held it in your hands for the first time.

A5:Preparing my first book for print felt like waiting for the birth of something precious. Every decision—from the cover design to the final full stop—carried both excitement and gentle worry. It was a mixture of joy, pride, and responsibility, because I knew those pages would become a bridge between me and my readers.

And when I held my book for the first time, my heart stopped. It felt like meeting a part of myself for the first time outside my own mind. Touching the covers, feeling the weight of the pages that were once only thoughts—that is indescribable. I thought: This is a part of me that will live on—in the hands, minds, and hearts of others.

It was a moment of pure happiness, wrapped in gratitude.

—

Q6: Which of your collections is your favorite, and why?

A6:Each of my collections carries a part of me and holds a special place in my heart. But if I had to choose, my favorite is always the one that most deeply reflects the moment of life in which it was created.

“Beside jedne Dalmatinke” is dear to me because it carries not only my love for Dalmatia, but also nostalgia for childhood, memories of those who shaped me, and the strength of the emotions I lived back then.

Yet I always feel that my favorite collection is the next one—the one still being written.

“Kleknut htjedoh učitelju” holds a special place because it was created out of deep respect for wisdom, knowledge, and spiritual growth. It honors the teachers in our lives—the visible ones and the invisible ones.

On the other hand, “Zvjezdana prašina” (“Stardust”) is dear because it was written with childlike joy and imagination. Writing for children means letting go of all boundaries and returning to simplicity and wonder.

Both collections tell their own story—one speaks to the deep reflections of adults, the other plays with the stars and opens the door to childhood imagination.

Interviewed by:

Juraeva Aziza Rakhmatovna, who is a young poet from Uzbekistan.