Nothing Matters

Help me understand 
why nothing matters.
Repeatedly, I listen to
a joke that is not funny.

Maybe my ears do not
work. Maybe I am drunk,
too drunk, and my mind,

my poor mind is gone. I
could barely hear my own 

thoughts. In my head
I hear dogs barking and
a tarantula dancing and
time beating backward.

I grow tired of sound. If
a tree falls, I cannot hear
it when I see it drop in
front of me. In my head
an orange sunset swallows 
a burning plane whole.

I hear my heart racing.
I pretend my heart has 
stopped. Believe me
that nothing matters.

When I think back, I 
could never find my
footing. The ground
broke my fall. Above

the sky stood witness
all day and all of the night.

Kicking Stones

I will not go along
the road without kicking 
stones that are in the way.
I kicked one so far that
it was not seen again.
I believe it went up
to the clouds. I think it
put a hole in the sun.
I believe it brought down
a satellite. The others
only exploded right
after I kicked them,
too brittle for this world.

Go Nowhere

If I could anywhere, 
I want to go nowhere.
With these eyes as
my windows, I could
see far and wide. 
I could see inside 
myself. I could hear
everything I have 
ever forgotten. I
can see the truth
which is basically 
nothing depending 
on what you believe.
I can see nowhere.
It is where I want to go.

See the Mountains

I was born where I could not

see the mountains from the

street I grew up from birth to

seven years of age. When I

moved across the border, I

saw rivers, places named after

words I did not understand,

and I saw the mountains from

the street where I lived. I had

to relearn the alphabet, to 

learn the new words, the new 

language I would use to fit in,

to get by, to make a life, a

living in this country. On a

bright early morning I saw 

people who came to this

country like me, people who

worked hard to make a living,

to feed their family, being taken

away by masked goons. I could

see the mountains where I

stood. I wondered if I went there,

if I would be safer than living

in suburban or the urban streets.

My Suits

My suits have not been used for years.

They hang in the closet worn by a man

who was more slender in those times

the suit came off the hangar. My body

has transformed over the years, been

on the operating table, cut into to get

the cancer out to allow me to live one

more decade if the fates will allow. In

this daily existence I have measured 

my steps, counted the minutes, and

worked at a mind-drudging job to pay

the bills, care for my family, and help

those less fortunate than me. My suits 

gather dust, speechless, non-judgmental

in the same place I left them. I would

need to shed twenty, thirty, fifty pounds

to wear them well, to button at least

one button, or maybe two. My ties

have suffered from the same neglect.

The Retired French Gangster to his new Yoga Master

« Nothing remains to me

Anymore, I have lost

My wife in Miami

And which is maybe worse

All my money in Nice…

But then why would I care

It was not mine, I guess

The life of a gangster

Full of speed and distress

Drags you to the abyss…

And… Life is a true chance

If you like what you do

As my friend Mamadou

Used to tell me in France

In two thousand and two

I will start from anew

And while I stay with you

I will be happy to

Settle in Bangalore !

And I will learn some more

Of your science, Hindu…

You will open the door

For a karmic rescue,

To lift me from the floor ! »

(a moment of silence)

…

« Do you know Nice ?

It’s very nice ! »

*****

A Parisian party fiend (What he did last summer)

Partied, party again,

Toast for Amanda Lear,

With my mate Édouard Baer,

At festival de Cannes…

Moved on to Athens, Greece…

Big one in Mykonos…

The second was a loss !

Epic comeback to Nice…

Casual gig in Paris,

A place called “Trois souris”.

But, the weather was dull…

Two weeks in NYC,

Dropped it with the MCs,

Flirted with a fit girl…

Ended in Normandie,

Bound to homeland again…

Party with some old friends !

*****

The Mansion

There are trees, lawns around, a mansion and the skies…

The Sea is not here though, or as a remembrance,

The Sun plays hide and seek and a fly there dances

Trees, lawns, the Sun, the skies, this house and a fly…

And there are you and me, and we read the poems,

With a glass of juice, and smoke dims the indoor lights

As the afternoon passes and runs out of sight…

We are quiet children in the mansion of dreams !

*****

The Sea (Discussion)

The beauty of a wave

The deep warmth of the Sun

And I dream ! And Dream on

With joy for this day saved…

– Sail the Seas o my pale

Wild Dreams – I will stay here

With my girl on the clear

Sand shoreline stream – She’s Kale… 

Could you buy cigarettes ?

Asks Kale

Honey they’re off

But I Have Davidoffs

In my blue jeans pocket 

– Poke

– Once they will be back

We have a plane to take ! 

– Yes… Berlin sounds great !

I can’t wait ! 

– Please, give me a kiss…

Darling Miss !

*****

The wizard’s in love

« – I am your wizard !

Sweet Ma Margot !

What should I catch ?

Three days of blizzard ?

Or a snatch ?

Or a gin-cargo ?

A crown of dandelions ?

Or a French mansion ?

Or maybe a lark,

Singing on a birch ?

Or a bench in a church ?

Or a ship and its pavilion,

Sailing far and far ?

Or a dimension,

Of our perception,

Where we look bizarre,

And I wear a trench ? »

« -Can we light a torch,

And walk in the dark ?

Then sit to watch,

The stars ? »

*****

Kalina

Kali, o Thy, love of Shiva,

Reign onto me, with all Justice !

For my few instants : Glory, Bliss,

Of you o Thy Kali, deva…

To Kali my life will provide,

I will revere Her, night and day,

Until a new heart grows inside,

My heart ! Rectified from astray…

“- Serve ! Whisper the echoes… – Serve Her !

– You might be in Her Graces, flare !”

I dear, and I dear my prayers…

The noble Mysteries we glean,

Praying Kali, drive on a lane,

Of flowers, the thoughts of Her priests…

“Kali ! Asceticism ! Feist !”

*****

Ode to the Sun

If one looks right into the Sun

For a second the sight grows dim

Then varies the actual esteem

Of Futures, Presents and Times Gone

O Thy Sun Keeper of our Dreams

Lead us ! For an Eternal dance…

We will not forget the immense

Love you showed as laced on your beams…

When we darling buds of a tree

From Earth live the scope of our lives

Light our ways ! Everlasting Wise !

Galactic

     Glorious

           Memories !

*****

What did the French do ?

(Cock a doodle doo !)

Frenchmen are well known for their meals

Since the dawn of Time -And they set

Up many useful things : they let

To day Stew, Barrels, Omelet

Mayonnaise, Mustard, Red Wine, Ale…

After these, they hosted the Christ

Back from revival -In Marseille

He taught them Courtesy, and stayed

For a while -Till Temple’s betray…

-He left with His long kept secrets…

Then the French found out Vinegar

Of the four birds, a medicine,

Measured the weight of oxygen

With Pascal -“They think thus they are”

Had said Descartes…

Then : White Sugar

Then : Aspirin

Spleen…

Rimmel

Modern Art…

Cinema

Bras

Atome

Perfume

Swing…

Air Mail…

…

Let’s stop with Bikini !

“Et les filles

Qui habillent

Leurs menus

Coeurs Nus

Dans le Gris

Paris

Sourient…

Dis !

C’est le Paradis !”

*****

Prayer

O Thy

Lord

In the Skies

Up High…

At your

Chords

Love pours

The Hours

Angels

Orb

Channels

Eternal

My Faith

Ore

Thy Blesseth

Forever !

*****

T.26. 

TEACHER’S MANAGEMENT ACTIVITIES IN THE EDUCATIONAL
PROCESS OF PRIMARY SCHOOL

The participant is a preschool teacher at State Preschool Education Institution No9 the Department of Preschool and Primary Education of Jizzakh City

Shodiqulova Dilorom Niymatulla qizi

Abstract: This article examines the role and importance of the teacher’s management activities in organizing the educational process in primary school.
The main management functions of the teacher-planning, organizing,
motivating, controlling, and analyzing-are analyzed from a pedagogical and theoretical perspective. The effectiveness of these activities in improving the quality of education and supporting pupils’ personal development is highlighted.

Keywords: primary education, teacher, management activity, educational process, pedagogical competence, motivation.

Introduction
Primary education plays a crucial role in shaping a child’s personality and learning abilities. At this stage, the teacher acts not only as a source of knowledge but also as a manager of the educational process. The effectiveness of teaching largely depends on the teacher’s ability to properly organize and manage classroom activities, taking into account the age-related and individual
characteristics of pupils.

Main Part

1. The Concept of Teacher’s Management Activity

Teacher’s management activity refers to a set of pedagogical actions aimed at planning, organizing, directing, and controlling the educational process. In primary school, the teacher must manage learning activities in a way that ensures pupils’ active participation and supports their cognitive, emotional, and social development.

2. Planning and Organization

Planning is one of the key components of effective management. A primary school teacher should clearly define lesson objectives, select appropriate teaching methods, and use suitable educational tools. Proper organization of the lesson helps create a positive learning environment and increases pupils’ engagement and interest in learning.

3. Motivation and Encouragement

Motivation is a significant factor in primary education. Teachers should apply various motivational strategies, such as praise, encouragement, and positive feedback, to maintain pupils’ interest in learning. A supportive and friendly classroom atmosphere enhances pupils’ self-confidence and promotes active learning.

Control and Analysis

Control is an essential part of managing the educational process. Through continuous assessment and observation, the teacher identifies pupils’ learning achievements and difficulties. Analyzing these results allows the teacher to make timely adjustments to teaching strategies and improve overall educational outcomes.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the success of the educational process in primary school largely depends on the teacher’s management activities. Effective planning, organization, motivation, and control contribute to high-quality education and the comprehensive development of pupils. Therefore, developing teachers’ management competencies is an important task in modern primary education.

References

1. Darling-Hammond, L. (2017). Teaching for Quality Learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
2. Hoy, W. K., & Miskel, C. G. (2013). Educational Administration: Theory, Research and Practice. New York: McGraw-Hill.
3. Slavin, R. E. (2018). Educational Psychology: Theory and Practice. Boston: Pearson Education. Woolfolk, A. (2020). Educational Psychology. London: Pearson.
4. UNESCO. (2015). Rethinking Education: Towards a Global Common Good? Paris: UNESCO Publishing Biography

There is a return

Almost nowhere trapped

in these hills I am caught

among voices and a lone dream

that these terrains weave among 

clouds and gurgling streams 

I am ensnared by some form

beauty or demonic beast 

but I lift my hands, a prayer 

to these tempestuous hills 

even as the stalactites and the stalagmites

in cavernous rocks of Cherra wither 

Into fantasy. There is a return.

You know 

Everyday the sun triumphs 

in these hills, even when 

it rains vigorously lashing window panes

but the sun less fortuitous triumphs 

sans glory

as it nestles by the hill side storm

and is, bystander to the history of these 

hills. I summon courage to withstand 

the rain or an earthquake 

knowing that the sun with bravado

gets a glimpse of my fortitude.

Resilience

In these rivers there is dirt

but the muddied images of 

the goddess float after the immersion

for another Durga Puja to emerge

these October rains flood the Umiam lake 

and mirages feint on hill tops

blue skies mirror images of a hill town 

caught in time warp of city and town.

The school 

Still stands though buildings 

have changed 

but the relentless corridor and teachers

In cassocks haunt dreams

even as the Alsatian dog barks 

in mnemonic hiatuses.

I get up prepared to go to school 

for another day, as years lapse

into history.

The crows

Every night they rattled roof tops

and in Gauhati their mournful cawing

nibbled at my dreams

Earthly wonder, theirs was a raiment

of dark dark even as the moon winced 

to lessen a bit of the black 

and merge them with dark nights.

Their sullen mourning sent a shriek 

in the air and in Shillong’s rains 

they pranced madly in their wetness.

GUNSLINGERS*

Virginia Tech was ripped apart one day.

Students and teachers—total, 32—

were shot and killed. Another dozen wounded.

Don’t blame guns. We all should own a few.

At Sandy Hook, a guy killed 20 kids,

age six and seven. Six staff members, too.

He owned assault rifles, shotguns, and pistols.

Don’t blame guns, Gun ownership’s his due.

A Minnesota man was filming ICE.

ICE shot him in the back ten times, it’s true—

but it was all his fault. His crime? A gun.

A legal gun, a gun he never drew. 

So don’t blame guns for gun-deaths—unless you

are sure the perp’s a bad guy. Might vote Blue. 

*  Events cited:  4/16/07 at Virginia Tech U in Blacksburg, VA;  

1/14/12 at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newton, CONN;

1/24/26 street protest in Minneapolis MINN.

Copyright 1/2026                 Patricia Doyne

“MY CHILDHOOD MEMORIES ALWAYS TUNE ME TO FRAGILE NOTES”

Our interlocutor is one of the bright figures of Azerbaijani literature — poet, publicist, and editor; a member of the Azerbaijan Writers’ Union, the “Yanqi Ovoz” Central Asian Writers’ Union, and the “Iraq-Turkmen Writers and Literary Figures Union”; a recipient of the Presidential Scholarship; laureate of the “Rasul Rza” and “Shakhmar Alakbarzadeh” Literary Awards; Head of the Women’s Wing of the Civil Solidarity Party; and editor of the website Mustaqil.az — Aysel Khanlargizi Safarli.

– When speaking about childhood, a person dives into an ocean of both joy and sorrowful memories.

When you recall your childhood years, what feelings awaken in your heart first?

— My childhood memories always tune me to fragile notes. Whenever I recall them, I return to the carefree, beautiful days when my father was still alive. Back then, little Aysel would show her very first poem to her father, and his kind words would light a small spark of creativity in her heart… I become a child again, and my father gently strokes my hair with eyes full of love… In this flow of emotions, I find myself gazing both into my past and into my own soul.

– There is a delicate silence and a deep emotional wave in your poetry.

Where does this silence come from — childhood memories or the turbulence of life?

— Some of these feelings come from the fragility of childhood memories, while others were born while rowing against life in the stormy sea of existence, fighting to survive.

– Every poet carries an invisible flame within.

Who ignited that fire in you for the first time — what event or which feeling?

— The first torch of poetry within me was lit by my late father. From my earliest years, he took pride in my poems, encouraged me, became my first reader, and always stood behind me… I believe it is a unique happiness for a girl to love her father also as her very first reader.

– “Paper planes” — does this symbol represent the purity of childhood or the human need to let dreams fly?

— In fact, the origin of “paper planes” is different. Because I lived far away for many years and waited for someone from afar, my life passed through airports filled with longing… In one of my poems, I wrote about how my son, waiting for his father, made paper planes and flew them across the room, turning our home into an airport… That is where the expression “paper planes” was born.

– Truth and beauty — how do these two concepts merge in your poetic worldview?

— Although truth may sometimes appear ugly to people, in my world it is a form of beauty itself…

Beauty always changes depending on one’s perspective. What matters is the ability to see beautifully. Sometimes a person can feel happiness even in sorrow, can live through pain beautifully, and carry it with dignity.

– In the modern world, a woman is simultaneously a creator, a mother, and a leader.

How do you maintain the delicate balance between these roles?

— I try to maintain it as best as I can. A woman is created so strong and perfect that she can carry the highest emotions of the world with immense love and patience. I am happy that I am both a mother and someone who can express her feelings through writing.

– You also lead the Women’s Wing of the Civil Solidarity Party.

When literature and social activity intersect, what tones collide within your soul?

— The founder of the Civil Solidarity Party is himself a People’s Poet — Sabir Rustamkhanli, a master who gifted priceless works to literature. I believe literature itself is already a form of social activity… 

Even the strongest conflicts have often been resolved with a single word. My soul stands in harmony with both my words and my actions; it befriends them, loves both its work and its word.

– There are wars, hunger, and injustices in the world.

What should a poet do in the face of such pain — remain silent or turn the pen into a sword?

— Even if a poet wants to remain silent, they cannot. Poets feel those pains and emotions as if they have lived them themselves. That is why the countless states of the world have always been transformed into poetry, words, and verses — and will continue to be.

– In your opinion, is modern literature a remedy for society’s spiritual wounds, or merely consolation?

— I believe literature is neither consolation nor a remedy. Literature is the verbal expression of feelings that thousands of people cannot articulate. Literature is the image of emotions, the artistic tones of life. When we are alone with ourselves, it makes us think, sometimes awakens us from heedless sleep, and sometimes gives the human soul the strength to fight. Literature is the nourishment of our spiritual world.

– Time changes, technology dominates the human soul.

Do you think the value of words still remains in this century?

— As long as humans exist, words will exist, and their value will remain. Sometimes a word becomes healing and hope in a sick heart; sometimes it becomes life itself. 

There is nothing a word cannot do… Just as with a single word — “dear” — a person is ready to sacrifice their life for the one they love.

– They say a person must find the meaning of their life.

Where do you see the meaning of life?

— Giving meaning to life depends on the individual. When a person sees what they value in the place they desire, life becomes beautiful in their eyes. For a creative person, the meaning of life is to live, to create, and not to grow tired of struggle.

– What inspires you most or causes you concern in today’s literary environment?

— The emergence of many talented young writers today inspires me greatly. What concerns me are those who devalue words, who seek so-called fame for the sake of publicity and ratings, or who force themselves into being poets or writers. But then I think to myself: time and the scales of literature will weigh every line and every verse; meaningless things that exhaust the agenda will be sifted out and filtered away. 

Leaving everything to time is the wisest choice.

– Is there a distance between today’s reader and the poet, or do souls still hear one another?

— Where there is spiritual kinship, there is no distance. A true reader and one who understands words will feel, sense, and comprehend them anywhere.

Jakhongir NOMOZOV, is a young poet and journalist from Uzbekistan.  

He is also a Member of the Union of Journalists of Azerbaijan and the World Young Turkic Writers Union.