Inside, Outside

The storm outside, flying the leaves

The branches of the tress are jerking too much

With the hearts in the room we live in

Suddenly the absented mind jumped to the sea

Once the sea birds while passing on the ship

I watched them flying rounding the feathers

Floating on the waves I thought of the sky

And the bounty of the flowing waters

I am getting lost in the far distance from the beach

Life turns it end at the moment of enjoying the beautiful nature

The storm is blowing inside

We hide from each other so quick

As the red crabs take shelter in the sand after sometimes the sun rises

Standing on the track we count our days like that fire smoking vanishes

Time is so hard but no matter

We live in sweet dreams

O sweet faces, awaken in my heart

Switched on the light to sleep in the lovely garden.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

20  December, 2024.

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.

New Year, New Slate

It is easier to justify hurtful words

I can say I have been provoked by the cruel world

Or that I really needed to thrust the tongue’s sword

Still I cannot deny I have slashed a whip cord

How shall I connect a fallen leaf to its tree?

How shall I make a dead fish swim back to the sea?

How can I catch a caged bird that I have set free?

How can I mould whole a glass broken to three?

Whatever reason and situation might be

Whether it has not been done intentionally

Even if the offense done is not known to me

For hurting you I have to say I am sorry

The list of old year’s follies and mistakes to tear

Open heart to feel, eyes to see, and ears to hear

Awareness to make amends and set my path clear

A clean slate to celebrate the coming new year.

The King’s Star

A lone shining star in the sky

to guide three rich pious magi

they carry gifts for the king child

through different lands they travel

Of the lone star they do marvel

Centuries waiting for that star

Through times of peace and times of war

Their excitement are growing wild

Castles and king’s palace they searched

What they found their hearts greatly stretched

For the King lies in a manger

Their quest ended in amazement

Their quest ended in amazement

For the King lies in a manger.

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.

Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.

Innovative High-Tech Methods for Diagnosing and Treating Diabetes Complications in Connection with Tuberculosis

Xolmatova G.A., Toxirova R.

Andijan State Medical Institute

Diabetes mellitus (DM) is characterized by a disruption in metabolic processes in the body, leading to impaired immune system function and reduced immunity. Consequently, patients with diabetes are at an increased risk of developing infectious diseases, one of which is tuberculosis (TB). This study aimed to investigate innovative high-tech methods for diagnosing and treating diabetes complications in connection with tuberculosis.

The research involved 60 patients with type 1 diabetes who were under observation at the Andijan State Medical Institute clinic between 2022 and 2024. Among the main group, 39 patients had type 1 diabetes combined with autoimmune thyroiditis (AIT), 11 with tuberculosis, 5 with impaired glucose tolerance (IGT), 2 with Graves’ disease, 1 with both AIT and tuberculosis, and 2 with AIT and IGT. Growth and body mass index (BMI) values were consistent with age-appropriate averages, and no significant differences were observed between the groups (r=0.78 and 0.72, respectively).

In patients with co-occurring autoimmune pathologies, HbA1c levels corresponded to subcompensation of carbohydrate metabolism (8.36±1.94%) and were significantly higher than in the control group (7.45±1.12%, r=0.004). Insulin requirements in patients with multi-glandular damage did not differ significantly from those in the control group (0.85±0.31 U/kg vs. 0.93±0.52 U/kg, r=0.33).

Biochemical blood parameters showed no significant differences: total calcium (r=0.42), ionized calcium (r=0.49), phosphorus (r=0.26), alkaline phosphatase (r=0.71), cholesterol (r=0.32), lipoprotein fractions (r>0.05), triglycerides (r=0.08), urinary iron (r=0.41), and ferritin (r=0.70). However, TPO antibodies were significantly higher in the main group compared to the control group (327.41±469.91 IU/ml vs. 42.12±37.44 IU/ml, r=0.0001). TSH and C-peptide levels did not differ significantly between the groups (r=0.10 and 0.40, respectively).

Recommendations for improving medical care for children with diabetes:

Establish a monitoring system for all diabetes complications (specific and nonspecific) starting from the diagnosis.

Ensure adequate staffing of pediatric endocrinologists and establish regional endocrinology centers.

Strengthen coordinated collaboration across all stages of care among specialists.

Keywords: Diabetes mellitus, tuberculosis, reduced immunity.

Ruxshona Izzatbekovna Toxirova was born on July 25, 2004, in the Oltinkoʻl district of Andijan region. She is Uzbek by nationality. From 2011 to 2022, she studied at the 48th general secondary school in the Oltinkoʻl district. Currently, she is a third-year student at the Faculty of Pediatrics at Andijan State Medical Institute. She graduated from school with excellent grades and achleved numerous successes, actively participating in subject Olympiads. She is the coordinator of the Girls’ Club. She participated in the conference “INNOVATIVE APPROACH TO CURRENT ISSUES IN MEDICINE” held on March 29, 2024. She is also the author of many articles.

AUTUMN LOVE IN PRISTINA

We met in the fall,

in the amphitheater you tweet…

the streets of Pristina,

in the cold night,

shoot me like a mountain fairy.

the stars were aligned

that summer evening in your tear,

we were both lost in the untouched oasis

and the lips stopped at the sounds FlokArtë.

Why did we travel, tell me why

in the cold winter and snow,

the beaming sun gave us a gift,

you ray of sunshine lit me siashra.

Why did we run to the meadows, why

in the early spring fragrance of love

we pray to the flowers of the green field,

embraced we felt exotic intoxication.

Valentine’s Day

Lora

embroidered Valentine’s Day

on the map of love

Egnatia-Naisus street

and in passing I also took

the honey flavor

from the hot ashes

of the estinguished fire.

Lora

like a blonde ladybug in the meteorite

nobody whispers

on the map of love

and the star twister out of exhausted longing

in the timeless feeling

brought the freshness of age

the kiss of the mountain like Hera from Olympus

departed in the endless today

night.

Lora

frozen in heat

slightly heated to the bosom of love

“I’m very cold

Lan takes me with him

tonight

I do not want flowers

a white rose

to have for Valentine’s Day! “

CV / LAN QYQALLA 

Lan graduated from the Faculty of Philology in the branch of Albanian language and literature in Prishtina, from Republika of Kosovo. He is a professor of the Albanian language in the Gymnasium. Lani is the Editor-in Chief of the international cultural and artistic magazine ORFEU, which is published in many languages in Pristina, the capital of Kosovo. He is also the editor of the cultural show ORFEU on TV Jupiteri7 channel on YouTube. He wrote poems, stories, drama, novels in Pristina. He has written in many newspapers, portals, Radio, TV, and Magazines in the Albanian language and in English, bangu, Romanian, Francophone, Turkish, Arabic, Italian, Greek, Swedish, Hindu, Spanish, Korean etc.

At the Diner

The two extraterrestrials went to a diner near the entrance to Manhattan’s Lincoln Tunnel to try classic earth food. They took a booth. The waitress, whose name was Florence, and who would refuse service to anybody who called her Flo, gave them a couple of menus and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Hons.”

“Does she think we’re Hons?” one extraterrestrial asked the other, in their own language, of course.

“I don’t know why she would,” the other replied. “We don’t have scales or wings.”

They perused the menus, and soon Florence returned to take their order.

“So, what can I get you?” Florence asked.

“I’ll have a grilled cheese sandwich,” one said.

“I’ll have a hamburger,” the other said.

“How would you like your burger?”

“Probably very much,” the extraterrestrial said.

“No, how would you like it cooked. Rare? Medium? Well?”

“Rare sounds expensive, so I guess well sounds good.”

“All right, one grilled cheese, and one burger, well. I’ll be back shortly with your orders.”

The two extraterrestrials looked around the diner and commented on how funny all the diner diners looked. Then Florence returned with their food.

“Thanks,” both extraterrestrials said in unison.

“Can I ask you folks something?” Florence asked.

“Sure,” the grilled cheese extraterrestrial said.

“Where are you folks from?”

The burger extraterrestrial told her the name of their planet.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Burger extraterrestrial repeated the name of their planet. It was nothing like Florence had ever heard before.

“Don’t know it,” Florence said. “Must be in Jersey.”

Peter Cherches’ latest book is Everything Happens to Me, an episodic novel about the misadventures of a Brooklyn writer named Peter Cherches.

What do I say to God?

My sins are endless.

My repentance is endless.

I’m afraid I’m faceless.

What do I say to God?

Heedless, so that I may not remain

I am a simple slave, a servant.

Ask questions every day.

What do I say to God?

I’m awake, shaking.

I ask myself, how are you?

What if I leave without repenting? Wow

What do I say to God?

Go and see the grave.

Don’t return without repentance then.

Then don’t be in the dream.

What do we say to God?

Insolence

The morning begins with a remonstrance against tapers,  

which I am likely to kindle

in the event of imminent misfortune 

habitually induced by her well-executed schemes.  

I ignore all that demeans:

her lips become agitated with narratives 

of the ills of the present 

and all that is deceased!

The afternoon heats up with the lava of her eruptive moods,

which have nothing to do with the weather 

or her blood pressure, 

besides she is long past the menopause.

No siesta is possible in such an infernal abode.

I simmer over slow-burning coal

and bite my tongue before it protrudes.

The evening always puts the final touches to a day of gall.

She harvests her crops with a single panoramic look

at my eclipsed moon,

at my ill-zipped lips,

struggling to block the release of a few words,

which eventually find their way out per force.

With damn your insolence, the night is concluded.

The Moon

The moon is neither a goddess,

nor a harbinger of doom 

when heralded by the howls of wolves.

It plays no role in the malevolent rites

of Dracula’s resurrection lore.

It is not the necromancer who inflicts lunacy

or changes the substance of nocturnal thoughts. 

It is simply a marvelous piece of masonry,

a celestial, megalithic stone,

chiseled by the Architect of the World.

Departed

Departed is the fellowship of swallows from our skies,

the stately clouds that cling to its own trails like excited brides,

the allure of the sea that entices swimmers who are without

apprehension about any lurking sharks.

Fishermen report hearing strange noises

that make them collect their nets with fear-driven speed,

and People living on the coast 

dread at most 

a hurricane’s holocaust.

It sounds like the end of days,

but I do not believe it is.

Have you ever contemplated wrestling with a demon? 

Have you ever contemplated wrestling with a demon,

in a combat that flexes the muscles of your brain?

They reiterate that it is not a being

with a couple of horns 

and a hideous mien.

In a battle of intellects,

demons are adept in the lingual spheres, 

so one can have recourse to literary language

since they need not consult any dictionaries!

On Thomas Malory’s Morte d’arthur

Why does he have to be the fruit of lust,

of a ploy that involves the shedding of blood,

conceived by Merlin, 

the dream-reader with a high expertise in the occult?

For some this amounts to defamation of character

in the modern sense of the word,

since they believe no chivalry is begotten 

from evil deception or sexual misconduct.

A true king cannot be weaned by a thought-reading

and shape-shifting wizard!