Dan’s Box								

In nineteen thirty-something, between the Depression and World War II, Dad built a small box, not big enough to call a chest or locker, from scraps of pine board, nailed together and screwed down with unnecessarily heavy hinges. He carved his name, Dan, into the lid, added a lock, and kept it under his bed to secure a few dollars and his precious boyhood possessions from his little brothers, Stanton and Wayne. 

Dan was also my first name, but never truly belonged to me. Dan of Daniel David, two strong Old Testament origins, Daniel of the lions’ den and David, the sensitive king of Israel and Judah. I was called David, Davy, or Dave unless I was “daddy’s little helper” that day on the Jet Quality Cleaners delivery route in which case I was often called Danny by those who assumed I was a diminutive version of my father. I was Davy when I was little as all the kids watched Davy and Goliath, a creepy Christian Sunday morning claymation. (There was no beheading of Goliath as he was Davy’s dog.) 

And on Saturday mornings there was Davy Jones from The Monkees TV show. I looked a bit like the very cute Davy Jones and the name Davy Jones made me think of Davy Jones’ Locker and pirates. Dad’s box looked as if it belonged to a swashbuckler who sailed the seven seas. In junior high school, I wanted girlfriends to call me Dave as it was much cooler for the brief time I was moderately and marginally popular. And to this day Dave is selected by those who don’t know me very well, attempting to be immediately chummy. I don’t correct anyone – unlike my acquaintances Robert (Bob) and Charles (Chuck).

When Dad didn’t need the box anymore as now he was a grownup with a bank account, safety deposit box, and a wall safe in the bedroom, he gave it to me to put my things in. It was empty. I hoped it wasn’t, but filled with his things, the things that were important to him. I filled it with my own boyhood treasure, the beginning of accumulating possessions. 

Three arrowheads, one broken at the point, one crudely tooled, and one perfect, all found by Dad, not me in newly plowed fields after a rain. Five prehistoric shark teeth I found, not Dad, or so I liked to recollect, on the beach at Venice, Florida. It was more likely that Dad bought these along with shells and sand dollars in a cheap gift shop. A pair of gold, wire-rimmed spectacles which once belonged to a great grandparent, but no one told me which. A few walking liberty silver dollars – pure silver, Dad said. 

A tiny pouch filled with gold ore Dad brought back from one of his trips to Colorado. At the time he was trying one of several new business flops, in this case selling plots of land for a new subdivision west of Pueblo. Two two-dollar bills because Thomas Jefferson was my favorite president in third grade. A note from a girl claiming she liked me – also from third grade.

Several inconsequential Army lapel insignia misplaced from uniforms at the dry cleaners. Later I wondered if any of these belonged to young men who were killed in Vietnam as I started my collection in the mid-1960s. Dad’s Ohio National Guard marksmanship badge which resembled a German Iron Cross a little too much, a decoration found around the necks of Nazis. One jumbo marble shooter, cracked, and five equally chipped cat eyes from the playground at Elmwood Elementary (I wasn’t very successful at marbles.) 

A skeleton key to a door of which I had no knowledge. Maybe it was Grandma and Grandpa’s extra key, but they wouldn’t need it as they left their doors unlocked knowing no one would want to rob their old farmhouse. And when they did rarely lock the door, they hung the key from a nail on a post on the porch where anyone could easily find it. Coins and brightly colored bills from the Bahamas from when Mom and Dad travelled there for a dry cleaners’ convention. A Saint Christopher’s medal from catechism, maybe First Communion, which I never wore because of how my enthusiastically evangelical protestant grandmother talked about Catholics. 

One pocketknife with a broken blade and one mini penknife meant for a key chain. And a fountain pen that, depending upon how it was tilted, the ink revealed the woman depicted on the side as either clothed or naked. All of this was locked up with a combination lock, the combination frequently lost or forgotten. And I often needed to ask Dad to open it as I could never get the turn-left-and-turn-right-past-the-last-number just right. I am not sure what became of Dan’s box. Despite filling my it, the box remained more Dan and Dad than Davy, Dave, or David.



David Sapp, writer, artist, and professor, lives along the
southern shore of Lake Erie in North America. A Pushcart nominee, he was awarded Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Grants for poetry and the visual arts. His poetry and prose appear widely in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. His publications include articles in the Journal of Creative Behavior, chapbooks Close to Home and Two Buddha, a novel Flying Over Erie, and a book of poems and drawings titled Drawing Nirvana.

Seven Untitled Monostichs



patter onus peach I’d name dust


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opine, etheric soursphinx! I AM


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at dusk what if pirate einkorn?


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of suns set forth o allied orgone axis


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please neatly bee star lamb anchor


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limping ice cold velveeta beet sprite


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dumpty erstwhile now not whey


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bio/graf

J. D. Nelson is the author of eleven print chapbooks and e-books of poetry, including *purgatorio* (wlovolw, 2024). His first full-length collection is *in ghostly onehead* (Post-Asemic Press, 2022). Visit his website, MadVerse.com, for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Boulder, Colorado, USA.

MERCY AND SALVATION

My soul rests beside the waters of your heart. It’s stillness which brings me contentment and faith. I have not lacked the faith You placed within me since childhood. It was a time of prayer and reflection to watch the candle of your presence on the altar. I have prayed to You and praised You for decades. It’s with profound humility I kneel at the altar of lights, remembering many times that I sought to be close to Your Heavenly Kingdom, Your Kingdom
has fulfilled all my needs and wants. I seek nothing more than your Holy son Jesus Christ to reside with my soul. Prayer: My Father, Creator of all that is good, please accept my prayer that I may continue in Your Being for it is Your grace that gives me a sense of presence of your love for me.

SEEKING GOD’S KINGDOM ON EARTH
A Psalm-inspired prayer for leaving the earthly world for God’s Kingdom: “My heart is set on heaven, my soul long to fly, to leave this earthly world, and touch the sky, I yearn for God’s Kingdom,...What does it mean to seek God’s Kingdom, To follow His Holy Son Jesus? This is the life I’m prepared to seek and leave behind confusion, chaos, and hate. My joy, hope, or contentment. I have this hope and I have a future.” “As I grow in the Spirit of God, I experience joy, hope and contentment. I find continued joy, compassion and hope because the scriptures say that God has plans to give me a hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11 I have this hope and I have a future in Christ Jesus.
Prayer: Hear my plea my Heavenly Father, I kneel and bow my head in obedience, to live a life that is filling my mind, heart, and soul. I contemplate about a life you have given me since childhood. These memories give me solace. I give you praise and thanksgiving for I have Salvation and Redemption.

SEEKING GOD’S KINGDOM ON EARTH
A Psalm-inspired prayer for leaving the earthly world for God’s Kingdom: “My heart is set on heaven, my soul long to fly, to leave this earthly world, and touch the sky, I yearn for God’s Kingdom,...What does it mean to seek God’s Kingdom, To follow His Holy Son Jesus? This is the life I’m prepared to seek and leave behind confusion, chaos, and hate. My joy, hope, or contentment. I have this hope and I have a future.” “As I grow in the Spirit of God, I experience joy, hope and contentment. I find continued joy, compassion and hope because the scriptures say that God has plans to give me a hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11 I have this hope and I have a future in Christ Jesus.
Prayer: Hear my plea my Heavenly Father, I kneel and bow my head in obedience, to live a life that is filling my mind, heart, and soul. I contemplate about a life you have given me since childhood. These memories give me solace. I give you praise and thanksgiving for I have Salvation and Redemption. 

Friendship

Friendship is close to the concepts of brotherhood, friendship and brotherhood, but from a psychological point of view, it is different from each other. We believe that friendship is a psychological concept. Friendship is a wonderful bond that connects one person to another person, one nation to another nation. Every person and every country has a brother country, a friend. Even lonely people. Loneliness is not unique to people. People have many friends, but only one friend. .He stands by your side in good and bad days. Friendship is a relationship between people based on views, mutual understanding and trust. If you trust your friend to tell your secrets, he will never He does not reveal to whom. There are poems about friendship with a wonderful meaning. Friendship can be likened to a glass, because the glass cannot be restored and returned to its original state…

Friendship is not likened to a bottle for nothing.!!!

Kurolova Dilnura Shokirjon’s daughter was born on October 15, 2009 in Gurlan district of Khorezm region. She is currently a student of the 8th grade of the 30th school. To date, she has achieved many achievements.

Thank you to Jacques Fleury for responding to our request for readers to offer their expertise to assist writers! He has a variety of published writing which he can refer people to on request and is open to being interviewed on these topics:

-History of Haiti, as an author on the subject & as a Haiti born  American citizen 

-Black/African American History, as a “black” man who grew up in America & as an author on the subject

-Race and Racism, as a Person of Color having survived & thrived despite lived experience of racism & as author on subject

-Mental Health/Illness/Wellness & Recovery, having had lived experience & as an author on the subject

Everyone else, if you have an area of knowledge where you’d be glad to be interviewed to help people who are writing about that topic, please reach out to us at synchchaos@gmail.com.

Also, our contributor Abigail George’s book When Bad Mothers Happen, released January 2024 from European publisher Morten Rand, is available for Synchronized Chaos readers to review. Please let us know if this interests you and her publisher can send review copies (and we can publish reviews!)

It is available on Amazon here, and here is a link to a promo video.

This month, our contributors figure out how to make sense of the universe, piece by piece.

Alan Catlin renders lists and catalogues into a form of poetry, building up objects from their components, like a brick tower or a floral arrangement. J.D. Nelson crafts auditory and visual snapshots that can stand for and evoke an entire scene.

Soren Sorensen contributes mixed media alterations of reality and existential poetry on making sense of the universe. Mars Brocke’s mixed media artwork plays with reality and perception in a nod to Alice in Wonderland. His poetry, also surreal, evokes memories and states of mind. Martha Ellen conveys the psychological changes induced by benzodiapine medicine and the fluidity and vulnerability of the human brain and mind. Mark Young creatively defines concepts through descriptive words that once explained something.

Christina Chin and Uchechukwu Onyedikam’s collaborative haiku focuses on and thus highlights the value of noticing small and in-between moments.

Saidova Mahzuna outlines methods for learning and teaching vocabulary. Mo’minjonova Diyora highlights the benefits of continuing to read and learn throughout life. Sevinchoy Sanat outlines ways to enhance education through technology as Ibrohimova Durdonaxon outlines different areas to focus on when improving childhood education. However, sometimes the old ways still hold wisdom: Daniel De Culla relates a humorous tale of a modern woman who chooses to go with folk wisdom regarding her health. Gregg Norman presents a poem from the point of view of a character who’s living life to the fullest, with health benefits as incidental.

Noah Berlatsky muses on the identity of Spock and on what makes intriguing literary characters. Jacques Fleury reflects on his personal and cultural identity. Mesfakus Salahin speaks to life, death, and personal accountability, redemption, and the meaning of one individual life. David Sapp relates a tale of responsibility, honor, and mailboxes. Ranjan Sagar reminds us that others’ poor character need not diminish our own. Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa addresses the tension between roots and wings, needing to fly free and wanting a stable nest, and reflects on the end of life. Paul Tristram speaks to personal growth, strength, and self-discipline while Sarvinoz Mansurova shares her family’s dreams for her and her own aspirations. Nigora Tursunboyeva’s short story celebrates adventure and finding one’s own way in life.

Gaurav Ojha reflects on how he will take nothing with him when he leaves the earth. Graciela Noemi Villaverde expresses the exquisite anguish of losing someone close to her. Engin Cir speaks to the grief, but also the indignation, of romantic heartbreak. Faleeha Hassan evokes the feeling of anxiety, being exposed and weighed down. Mykyta Ryzhykh conveys alienation, cold, and a halfway state between life and death.

Duane Vorhees speaks to creativity, sensuality, and history, evoking major and minor apocalypses that occur when people cannot or do not adapt to constant change. Taylor Dibbert reflects on how creativity can help him weather, if not avoid, his struggles. Z.I. Mahmud links the expectations of Samuel Beckett’s characters in Waiting for Godot to those of broader Western religious and cultural traditions.

Adam Fieled writes of our twin natures, the balance of masculine and feminine. Z.I. Mahmud examines the family relationships in D.H. Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers through a Freudian psychoanalytic lens. Karimova Sarvara Karimovna crafts an elegant and highly personal love poem. Kristy Raines speaks to the joy of a close loving relationship. Aytuvova Khurshida shares a love story that gets interrupted by life, but where the former partners always remember each other. Numonova Khonzodabegim poignantly shares the challenges and risks military families face.

J.K. Durick speaks to the harsh realities of aging and death and hunger, which can be eased, but not completely erased, by modern culture. J.J. Campbell’s poetry addresses aging and resignation while Dildora Toshtemirova reflects on the loss of a close friend or lover. Nosirova Gavhar’s short story combines two great human passions: love and grief.

Paul Callus and Christina Chin collaborate on a wide-ranging haiku collection evoking home, place, and time. Stephen Jarrell Williams captures many of summer’s varied moods in his haiku. Steven Croft watches a Civil War reenactment through the eyes of a modern veteran. Brooks Lindberg speaks to what we remember and what we forget, of grasping happiness despite reality. Rustamjonova Nodira celebrates the perseverance of Uzbekistan’s founders, leaders, and people, as Nuraini Mohammed Usman urges her society to carry out collective housecleaning and purge old enmities.

Murodova Sitora urges teachers to continue to learn and develop their skills and be accorded the respect and resources in order to do so. Abduraximova Muyassarxon relates how a dedicated teacher helped her regain her confidence. Rukshona Qiyomova outlines the many responsibilities of a teacher and the value of the teaching profession. Sevinch Saidova reflects on the value of education for personal development. Sushant Kumar highlights the need for teachers to serve as role models as well as impart intellectual information.

Majidova Sevinch pays tribute to the many dimensions of a mother’s love and care. Sobirjonova Rayhona offers a tribute to her sister’s care and friendship. Ilhomova Mohichehra takes joy in her friends and her lovely homeland of Uzbekistan.

Brian Barbeito revels in the easy intimacy of the conversation on a summer hike. Salokhiddinova Mohichehra examines the structure and function of nature close to home, the human kidney. Isabel Gomez de Diego contributes visual poetry of everyday life: dinner with family, a visit with a grandson, a tree in the yard. Kylian Cubilla Gomez takes closeup peeks at backyard chickens.

Sayani Mukherjee recollects a quiet morning outdoors under the blue sky, smelling the scent of trees with her child. Maja Milojkovic yearns for and finds reminders of her lover in every aspect of nature. Intizor Samandarova evokes the sky’s expansive emptiness in her poetry as Don Bormon poetizes about the vast variety of clouds.

However, nature is not always calm: researcher Les Beley speaks to the ecological impact of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Mahbub Alam describes the recent flash floods in parts of Bangladesh and the loss of life and property.

Farida Botayeva reflects on how quickly our circumstances and emotions can change. Ziyoda Murodilova considers how she will persevere in her life despite unpredictable feelings.

Finally, Christopher Bernard presents an old-style lyrical recipe for preparing hope in the kitchen.