Sliding through the sewage tunnel gleam

(poem in seven parts)

I

Forgotten (soon)

Hard and cold as an ice storm

killing, hardening life

in its blanket frost.

The only love you keep is what

you can control. If you can’t control it,

you ditch it with a kick,

with a higher-than-though mighty sneer.

Digger in the rocky lifeless garden,

resisting you, you claim as savage stupidity

because you claim to hold prophecy,

ancient words of a babbled dream,

zodiac tamer whipping up a storm

or a healing balm to break delusion.

When there is no compliance or

cheerleaders cheering,

you turn,

start character-flailing, lying, slicing into

the corners of human frailty

to etch yourself out a victory and walk away.

Atrophied heart inside you, a high ceiling

that will go no further, cannot expand

into compassion-for-your-enemies

overflow

Dive back into the water-pool where all who

encounter you are obedient to your command, move

to the mountain where uncertainty cannot

reach you – exchanging truths in monetary form

and claim it all as blessed achievement.

Where was your kindness, your golden glow,

when you drove a knife into my loins

before you departed,

trying to lure me into self-loathing?

Low,

like arrogance, hubris, and lying are low,

immutable as a dead thing swinging in

the wind – movement, but no breath.

Farewell friend of the seventh solider, fallen.

I need nothing here

in your palace of falsities,

closed off from humility and the equality of grace.

You could have left without letting me know

you never had my back, that you were always

back there, clawing with judgements,

grievances.

You could have just left without the

tongue-lashing psychological deception,

just turned away without the gutting,

flipping all those years of friendship

on their side, upside down, lying

like liars do with complete certainty,

no remorse or self-doubt,

amputating any devotion

I had left for you,

boiling its remains

on a rack of putrid oil and extremes.

Walk away, dragging this downed horse behind you,

into the thorny bramble of your defiant prejudice

into the fantasy of your less-than-holy paradigm, broken.

II

Broken Glass

Coward,

keeper of a false fixed star,

keeper of many truths,

knower of none.

Coward,

throwing glass into my garden.

Brutal, unnecessary cruelty so you can

own the platform as you leave,

nose stuck high in the air,

hands cleansed of any doubt or wrongdoing.

Coward,

incapable of walking through the mire

hand in hand, of not letting go and trusting love no matter

the centipedes writhing, the small gnawing things

and the larger creatures that scare. Incapable

of owning your own transgressions, or prioritizing

love above your frightened soul.

Coward

cussing a friendship because you quit,

cussing and lying and tossing the broken glass

from your high and mighty mountain.

Coward

with blood on your hands,

who must turn back as you leave,

thinking you’ll say your piece,

but really just recklessly, heartlessly tossing

broken glass.

III

Getting there

I am almost on the other side

(one day, second day)

where forgiveness collides

with terrible truth,

where pain is overcome with pity,

releasing my shield and cry

for human justice.

Quickly through the process

after the breaking of the sun,

after seeing the secrets you stand behind

to prop up your persona, after still,

your deliberate hurt was hurled, and after that,

ending it with pat-on-the-head platitudes,

even still, I forgive you.

I am almost there, I pray to be there, in spite of

your attempts to drown me in false accusations,

in spite of your attempts to undermine my autonomy.

I say, so be it, I am almost on the other side,

sensing a freedom, an inspiration

clearing the thicket of your malice,

almost healed of your viper-tongue lick,

your sticky twisted back-flip truths,

spiritual elitism of the highest order.

I am almost there, and I am feeling good,

relieved, now away from your succubus suckling,

away from your tight-grip surrealism,

distorting clean lines, bright glowing rivers

and intimacy.

I forgive you. I forgive your incapacity,

your hard didactic tongue.

I forgive your small circle land, retreat

from a faith that holds faith no matter the outcome,

that part is easy.

But your foul lying insults

as you turned away, are harder to bear.

I will get there,

I will not carry you with me –

not your soiled diaper dripping, not a single

attempt to condemn me,

or the labels you blew towards me,

blew, night wind cursing, blew

into nothingness.

IV

A Dead Man’s Pockets

Petty, trust snapped

a killed bug on a windshield.

Into the grave, folding, four-fold,

soot in the ears, on your eyelids,

and your poison almost run through.

You lost me long ago, your spell thinned out,

held no power or impact long ago but I thought

love existed between us still, thought

respect existed between us,

that we were more than a bowing down

to your sure-fire claims.

On my side it did.

I cared for you, wanted your dreams

to glow and be more than you ever imagined,

when all you wanted from me was

obedience to your cause.

As long as I just kept my place,

just below your shoulder blades,

we would be fine.

Why can’t you love?

Why the subterfuge madness

parading around as absolutism?

Why couldn’t you acknowledge

my side, apologize for your

terrible accusations, bend a little,

suck in your puffed-up ego a little,

make room for someone other

than you, your way,

your branding rod?

There are more birds in the sky

than there has ever been,

more spark in my fountain than

I have felt for while.

Clarity is shameless,

a stream that rides, collides

with the rusty metal haul,

goes around it until it becomes one

with the waterfall, a cleansing continuum.

V

Touch

The first touch was bitter,

tantamount to an attack, deception

from a vantage point

of spiritual superiority.

The second touch

was touching a tomb, still full

of stench though the flesh had rotted long ago –

just dry bones barely

a full form.

The third touch

angered, like when a snake

snatches a fledgling, angry

at the innate brutality all around.

The fourth touch

was perfect, a release

from the swing-seat of darkness,

a blessed gift that came

at the first touch –

consciously cruel, compliant

to the sway of a lesser self.

VI

Small Moon

A small moon melted

fleshed out a sure-footed sacrifice

but changed directions, too quickly

into the direction of a red star.

Then her heart was burned, crispy

and crumbling, no more a perfect circle,

drooping on one side, gravity became queen

of her false crescendo song.

Hiding her deformity in the dark red burn,

hoping no one could see her misshapened side,

which she tended to only in hidden rooms,

chanting for a cure, bandaging her bloodied side

to try and form again that perfect circle.

A small moon strained to keep her crust,

could not resist flinging curses from her

cavity craters as she went out, could not accept

her time had come, that in the end she never had

a compact core or a solid truth she could rely on.

VII

Ribbon

It is ok to still love you

though our personal love has been

caught by the fishing net,

drowned by the struggle.

It is ok to want you to be ok

and even thriving on a splendid mount,

trailing through the forest.

Though your axe came down

in a forced entanglement of muscle

and sinew, although you have failed me

and hurled enmity into my spine,

in a sharp take-me-down twist

that wanted to leave me maimed,

it is ok.

I am ok and I still love you,

not for what we were but

for who you are, now,

a person trying to

seize for yourself a homeland,

believing you are doing the right thing,

believing your betrayal was a necessary closure.

Closed now and I am ok

and I still love you

over here where we will never meet

in this life or any life again.

Allison Grayhurst has been nominated for “Best of the Net” six times. She has over 1,400 poems published in over 530 international journals, including translations of her work. She has 25 published books of poetry and 6 chapbooks. She is an ethical vegan and lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay; www.allisongrayhurst.com

If Your Mother Were…
(A tribute to a mother)

Like the moon that shines through a dark night,
Like a river full, its current bright,
Like a springtime dressed in blooming grace —
So would your mother walk this place.

She labors day and night, no rest,
Wishing not for herself, but for her child the best.
Hiding her greying hair with care,
Still walking proud, with love to spare.

If only you knew, the heart she hides,
The tears she swallows, the dreams she bides…
She walks not for herself, but for you —
Your mother, selfless, pure, and true.

Sevinch Kuvvatova was born on October 19, 2009, in the Qorako‘l district of Bukhara region. She is currently a 10th-grade student at School No. 13 in her district.

1. Tell us about yourself. How did you start writing poetry?

I was born in Ukraine, in the city of Sumy. Many years later, fate brought me to the city of Kazan. During my school years, I started a diary—it was very fashionable at the time—and began writing down my innermost thoughts in it, for some reason, in verse. Over time, independent works began to appear. And on the insistence of my classmates, I sent my poems to the chief editor of the youth magazine “Yunost” (Youth), Andrey Dementyev. He replied to me personally and recommended that I join a literary association, which I did. So, unexpectedly for me, my path into serious literature began.

2. What message do you want to convey with your poetry?

The message is one: to live in love and peace. Only through repentance can peace come, but it is a very long and thorny road. And only those who walk it can master it.

3. Do you believe that the new generation reads and is interested in literature?

Of course, I believe. How can one create without faith? Every book, every work needs its own thoughtful reader.

And in poetry?

I am the creator and director of the International Music and Poetry Festival “Handshake of Republics” (RR-Fest), the International RR-Fest Telebridge, the International Youth Music and Poetry Competition-Festival “On the Fairytale Shore of the Kazanka River” based on the works of Olga Levadnaya, the International Forum-Battle “Tournament of Poets and AI. RR-Fest”, the organizer of the International Scientific and Creative Seminar “Quantum Transition: Artificial Intelligence in Education, Art, and Medicine. RR-Fest”, and the coordinator of the International Literary Festival in Russia “Woman in Literature” (Mexico). A great many young people participate in all these projects. I can state with full responsibility that young people engage in new projects with great enthusiasm. The Tournament of Poets and AI showed amazing results. We can admire and even be proud of our youth.

4. How do you feel when you see your poems published on several foreign websites?

First and foremost, a great sense of responsibility. In these far-from-easy times, I represent Russian culture. I feel a thrill that, despite everything, the mystery of poetry’s birth does not cease… And I am an inseparable part of this miracle!

5. Would you like to share with our readers a phrase that changed your life?

“Live the life of a true Poet!” — that’s what my teacher, the outstanding poet of Tatar and Russian literature, Rustem Kutuy, once told me.

6. What are your future plans?

I have many plans. But I also have dreams: to publish the books “On the Edge of Night” in Russian, English, and Spanish, and “I Sing of the Secret” in Russian, English, and Chinese, as a token of gratitude to my faithful poet friends who lovingly translated my poems. I very much hope that my poems will be translated into Greek someday!

Thank you very much! 🙏

EVA Petropoulou Lianou 🇬🇷

Olga Levadnaya, Russian visionary poet, world-famous public figure, Honored Worker of Culture of the Republic of Tatarstan, laureate of more than 20 republican, all-Russian, international literary awards, member of republican, Russian and international literary unions, author of 17 books of poetry and prose published in Russian, English, Tatar, Turkish, translated into 14 languages, author of more than 500 publications in magazines, anthologies in Russia and abroad, participant in numerous festivals, conferences, readings, member of the Assembly of the Peoples of the World, Ambassador of Peace, European Poetry, poetry of International Literature ACC Shanghai Huifeng (Shanghai, Huifeng), Department of Arts and Cultures.

Plenipotentiary Representative for Culture in Russia of the Republic of Birland (Africa), literary consultant of the Academy of Literature, Science, Technology of Shanxi, the Zhongshan Poets’ Community (China), honorary founding member of the World Day of K. Cavafy  (Greece, Egypt), coordinator of the International Literary Festival in Russia “Woman in Literature” (Mexico), creator and director of the International Music and Poetry Festival “Handshake of the Republics”, the Forum-Battle “Tournament of Poets and AI. RR”, the International TeleBridge RR, the International Youth Music and Poetry Competition-Festival “On the Fairytale Shore of Kazanka” based on the works of Olga Levadnaya, artistic director of the Kazan Poetic Theater “Dialogue”.

I am the Truth

Quiet, I’m not listening 

Just because you say 

Does not mean it’s true…

You don’t get to define me! 

My existence is my definition!

And by definition: I am the truth!

But you don’t see me;

So YOU be quiet, 

I’m not listening!

Just because you say

Does not mean it’s true…

I am the legacy of what came BEFORE you!

From the DNA of the Subsaharan Africans

Where scientists traced the birth of us humans!

Remember that we are ALL 99.9% the same!

The diaspora from Africa to Asia to Europa

And eventually to North America and South America,

Australia and Antarctica…

We are ALL from the MOTHERLand of AFRICA!

THAT is truth!

I am that TRUTH! 

But you choose NOT to see me!

So you don’t get to define me based on a falsity!

Afro-Ancestral DNA already told you OUR story…

So Down with your Pseudo ideology of Supremacy!

I refuse to give you the soot! 

For in the words of Gordon Lightfoot:

“I will never be set free as long as I’m the ghost you can’t see…”

Jacques Fleury is a Boston Globe featured Haitian American Poet, Educator, Author of four books and literary arts student at Harvard University online. His latest publication “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self” & other titles are available at all Boston Public Libraries, the University of Massachusetts Healey Library, University of Wyoming, Askews and Holts Library Services in the United Kingdom, The Harvard Book Store, The Grolier Poetry Bookshop, Amazon etc… He has been published in prestigious publications such as Spirit of Change Magazine, Wilderness House Literary Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Litterateur Redefining World anthologies out of India, Poets Reading the News, the Cornell University Press anthology Class Lives: Stories from Our Economic Divide, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene among others…Visit him at:  http://www.authorsden.com/jacquesfleury.–

Speech culture and communicative competence in English

Termiz University of Economics and Service

Philology and teaching language English

 3-course To’raqulova Pokiza

Key words: Grammar, vocabulary, accuracy, fluency, speech culture , communicative competence.

Abstract: This article discusses the issues of speech culture and communicative competence in English. Speech culture is defined as the combination of correctness, clarity, politeness, and expressiveness in communication.

Cultural competence in ESL refers to the ability to understand, communicate with, and effectively interact with people across cultures. It involves being aware of one’s own world view, developing positive attitudes towards cultural differences, and gaining knowledge of different cultural practices and world views. Language and culture are inextricably linked. The nuances, idioms, and colloquialisms of a language can provide insights into its subtleties and complexities, which are crucial for effective communication.  

Today’s increasing globalization and English use as a global language, people’s need of teaching and learning English is really important. Education around the world prioritizes English as a mandatory subject in schools and universities. Most parents, for example, want their children to learn and communicate in English. These parents would be proud if their children were competent and excellent in English. From the mid to late 1970 to nowadays, experts introduced and developed kinds of methods and approaches in teaching and learning English. Some of them are Grammar-Translation, Direct Method, and Audiolingualism.

These methods mainly focused on grammatical knowledge and rules, translation, and repetition. The purpose of these classical methods was to reinforce constant repetition and positive reinforcement through continuous process of drills and practices. Students’ accuracy was the main purpose of these methods. However, other experts criticized the previous methods as focusing solely on grammatical competence and repetition through positive reinforcement. Demonstrating a clear shift of emphasis among scholars who work on language, Hymes (1972) coined and defined the term communicative competence as the knowledge of both the rules of grammar and the rules of language use appropriate to a given context.

As reported in Alptekin (2002) and Uso-Juan and Martinez-Flor (2008, 158), Hymes’s conceptualization of communicative competence has been further developed by several researchers who attempted to define the specific components of the model as grammatical competence (i.e. knowledge of the language code in a way that refers to Chomsky’s linguistic competence); sociolinguistic competence (i.e. knowledge of the sociocultural rules of use in a particular context); strategic competence (i.e. knowledge of how to use communication strategies to handle breakdowns in communication) and discourse competence (i.e. knowledge of achieving coherence and cohesion in a spoken or written text). Pragmatic competence is essentially included in this model under sociolinguistic competence, which Canale and Swain (1980, 30) described as ‘sociocultural rules of use’. Being grounded on this taxonomy, communicative competence was repeatedly divided into some lesser known sub-competences like physiological mechanisms (Bachman, 1990) and actional competences.

Following the emergence of the nation of intercultural communicative competence and its relations to (foreign language) education, many studies have been produced concerning different scopes and focal points. Questioning what makes a learner’s communicative competence in English and hypothesizing that it cannot be accomplished without having an orientation towards the other’s culture, Akalın (2004) examined with an intercultural eye the textbooks used in Turkey to teach English.

Based upon her findings, she suggests that textbooks for especially young learners should firstly be predicated on characters, pictures, illustrations, texts and subjects from Turkish and even local culture and move slowly to the target culture and to crosscultural experiences so that students would not feel inhibited and strange as we proceed from the simple to the more complex and from known to the unknown in any educational process. In order for this to happen, she proposes as a solution that large foreign publishing companies should communicate with each target nation’s English teachers and educationalists.

Emphasizing the fact that the objective of language learning is no longer defined in terms of the acquisition of communicative competence in a foreign language but rather in terms of intercultural competence, which is “the ability of a person to behave adequately in a flexible manner when confronted with the actions, the attitudes and the expectations of the representatives of foreign cultures” (Meyer, 1991, 138). Similarly, teachers are now expected not only to teach the foreign linguistic code but also to “contextualize that code against the socio-cultural background associated with the foreign language and to promote the acquisitions of intercultural communicative competence” (Castro, 1999, 92). Atay, Kurt, Çamlıbel, Kaşlıoğlu and Ersin (2009) investigated the opinions and attitudes of Turkish teachers of English on intercultural competence teaching to see how, and to what extent, these opinions and attitudes are reflected in their classroom applications.

In specific reference to and support of Alptekin (2002) based upon direct experience and observation from Japan, Samimy and Kobayashi (2004) strongly object to the current implementations of communicative English teaching in the country claiming that they were imposed upon with a top-down approach by political and bureaucratic authorities on the assumption that any idea that seems to work in the U.S. and the U.K. and/or EFL contexts should work equally well in countries like Japan and/or any ESL context.

While the Japanese education system like the one in Turkey is characterized by crowded classrooms and masses of students associating the study of English with the university entrance exams, which emphasizes grammar, vocabulary and reading comprehension, the authors question how reasonable it is to recruit native speaker English teachers (which is a hot controversial issue at present in Turkey too) and force Japanese English teachers to fill students with Western values embedded in Communicative Language Teaching. 

As a study with a fairly different perspective, Garcia and Biscu (2006) can be cited here. It is about the introduction of a new course called “Language Mediation” at the School for Interpreters and Translators of the University of Bologna, which is a project to teach intercultural communicative competence through theatre. The idea emerged from the Council of Europe’s definition of “mediation” as a communicative activity of the language user/learner, thus the undergraduate interpreter/translator as well, in which s/he acts as an intermediary between interlocutors who are not able to understand each other. In pursuit of what constitute a language mediator’s competences and skills, the authors found that he/she, besides language competence, should also possess sociolinguistic, discursive, strategic and sociocultural competence (Oliveras, 2000, 24) and intercultural communicative competence (Rodrigo, 1999, 235) comprising verbal and non-verbal aspects of communication, intercultural awareness and the mastery of pragmatics, behavioral patterns and negotiation (Oliveras, 2000).

In this context, the authors were inspired by the belief that theatre is a means to achieve the awareness and knowledge necessary to experiment intercultural exchanges, since the re-expression of a dramatic text in a foreign language -in with other space and another time- leads to dialogue with the mental context of the other culture.

References:

1.Alred, G., & Byram, M. (2002). Becoming an intercultural mediator: A longitudinal study of residence abroad. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Education. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.

2.Alptekin, C. (2002). Towards intercultural communicative competence in ELT. ELT Journal Oxford.

 3.Atay, D., Kurt, G., Çamlıbel, Z., Kaşlıoğlu, Ö., & Ersin, P. (2009). The role of intercultural competence in foreign language teaching. Inonu University Journal of the Faculty of Education, Special Issue, Malatya.

4. Balboni, P. E. (1999). Parole comuni, culture diverse. Guida alla comunicazione interculturale. Venezia: Marsilio.

5.Ball, J. C., & Lau, M. P. (1966). The Chinese narcotic addict in the United States. Social Forces, Chapel Hill.

6.Byram.M. Teaching and Assessing Intercultural Communicative Competence. Great Britain: WBC Book Manufactures, Ltd.

Here is another day without you,

This sick heart is punished by the Hijran.

A dark night that cannot be matched by my heart,

The spaces left by the stars.

Here is another day without you,

My eyes are fluttering, clinging to the river.

I am still waiting because I miss you,

Come and see the pain in my heart.

Here is another day without you,

Today is passing, and tomorrow will pass.

Years may pass,

Your pictures are always on my page.

Here is another day without you,

Trust me, no one is waiting for you like me.

This is not difficult to wait for,

For my patience,

Maybe my absence from you will never end.

Here is another day without you,

Tell me how can I comfort this heart?

My longing cries are so sad,

My life is now so sad.