Poetry from Vernon Frazer

Filling the Hollow

resonator grotto

pushing headline disinfectants

devised a renewed pastiche

liminal fury for taint collectors

brought a binge pot dilemma 

its crude invective 

untamed the clot’s brand name

ghost fangs mental vending

threshed spotless reverb egress

past sound regrets tangled dry

as a flattened root 

plying the sharpened tonic grab

contortion clangs against vibrato

trembling with a haunted verbatim

in search of a breaking tremolo

to gambol freely

against the chamber’s echo points

Below the Land’s Bottom

pealing at robotic speed

the stranger left a missing hieroglyph

sleeping under the sinkhole

swamping the mendicant 

sporting a bearded vantage boast

where street invention

gaped a landmark palpitation

                     2.

verbal carnage soaring

vigil haze fattened the coming 

joggle a rough descent

retread derision encased 

any sidewalk dream plots worn

to comfort the decimation

with a congregation of friction studios

                 3.

lout fight a slow obstacle 

included fans of glower problems

fighting apprehension daze

reprobate misses figurine

torpedo grieving well black ending

rapier predispositions stick

bygones target simulacrum remover

Poetry from Natalie Bisso

Light-skinned woman with red hair in a ruffled lacey black top with white dangling earrings and a yellow and green flower on her left shoulder.

JUST

It’s just that I miss you …

A warm evening smells of lilac,

And invitingly meeting lovers,

A nightingale crooning gasps,

A May evening, spring without being embarrassed.

May evening and a branch of lilac,

We inhale the scents of flowers,

You lightly touched knees,

And a hot desire embraced,

There are shadows on the green grass.

Your touch is so welcome.

It’s just that I’m flying into the Water with my head,

Just, I can hear your breathing.

It turned out to be my fate,

Then, in love with me, your confession.

It’s just that I miss you,

Every hour without you is no joy to me,

I’m drawing our meeting in my dreams,

And I hide a careless weakness,

Letting go into the hustle and bustle of the city.

——

ПРОСТО

Просто, я по тебе скучаю…

Тёплый вечер сиренью пахнет,

И  призывно влюблённых встречая,

Соловьиным напевом ахнет,

Майский вечер, весны не смущаясь.

Майский вечер и ветка сирени,

Мы вдыхаем цветов ароматы,

Ты слегка прикоснулся к коленям,

И горячим желанием объяты,

На зелёной траве чьи-то тени.

Так желанны твои прикасания.

Просто, в омут лечу с головою,

Просто, слышу твоё дыханье.

Оказалось моею судьбою,

То, в любви мне, твоё признание.

Просто, я по тебе тоскую,

Каждый час без тебя мне не в радость,

Я в мечтах нашу встречу рисую,

И скрываю беспечную слабость,

Отпустив в суету городскую.

——————————————————————————————

Απλά μου λείπεις…

Απλά μου λείπεις…

Ένα ζεστό βράδυ μυρίζει λιλά,

Και προσκαλώντας τους εραστές,

Το άσμα του αηδονιού θα λαχανιάσει,

Μάιος βράδυ, άνοιξη χωρίς αμηχανία.

Το βράδυ του Μαΐου και ένα κλαδί λιλά,

Εισπνέουμε τις μυρωδιές των λουλουδιών,

Αγγίξατε  γόνατα,

Και μια καυτή επιθυμία αγκάλιασε,

Υπάρχουν σκιές στο πράσινο γρασίδι.

Το άγγιγμά σας είναι τόσο ευπρόσδεκτο.

Απλώς πετάω στην πισίνα με το κεφάλι μου,

Απλά, ακούω την αναπνοή σου.

Αποδείχθηκε ότι ήταν η μοίρα μου,

Τότε, ερωτευμένος μαζί μου, η ομολογία σου.

Απλά μου λείπεις.,

Κάθε ώρα χωρίς εσένα δεν είναι χαρά για μένα,

Ζωγραφίζω τη συνάντησή μας στα όνειρά μου,

Και κρύβω μια απρόσεκτη αδυναμία,

Αφήνοντας να πάει στη φασαρία της πόλης.

President of the International Literary Association “Creative Tribune”(ILACT),
Head of the German Branch of the Writers’ Union NA,

Dr. Hc Natalie Bisso

Президент Международной Литературной Ассоциации “Творческая Трибуна”(МЛАТТ), Руководитель Германского Отделения СПСА, Академик,

Dr. Hc Натали Биссо

Poetry from Joseph C. Ogbonna

His Mercy in my Depressed State 

In His shadow of warmth 

I take solace 

when my bouts of despair 

seem to set in.

When I get exhausted by 

the realities of my own 

trials and adversities.

I look to the hills from whence

my teary eyes get their arid relief.

There are moments I find myself sunken deep in my own melancholy.

When I seethe with frustration at the slightest provocation of my own depression.

At such unpleasant moments, I find myself diving instantly into His Ocean of grace and infinite mercy,

only to emerge later from my baptism of succour.

Poetry from Umid Najjari

Middle aged Middle Eastern man with reading glasses, brown hair, a small mustache, and a blue suit.

Bermuda Triangle 

I’m a soldier who has lined his face to the cold wall of the trench 

My bullets are words …

Place your eyes on mine!

We all are wounded in this war.

We’re all exiled in our land…

Place your eyes on mine!

Your eyes are like Bermuda Triangle

The gone never come back …

If you’re asked, respond: 

The poet never came back! 

*** 

The snow

The nights that I miss

Your voice is like a song that Lord recites 

Comes like snow to my morning. 

Silently…

White …

*** 

Tragic Poem 

A piece of me has stayed far away

Under the rain

Those are gone from me, don’t have a “return” ticket

The storm is the nightmare of the trees on old nights 

The fingerprint of a woman is shivering in the fancy of windows 

A prisoner with hands like an elm leaf 

Whose voice as light 

In the name of the freedom 

She may write this poem on the wall of his cell

May give birth by the voice of pigeons instead of the sun this spring 

Instead of the bullet wound of the girl in this war

May shot this poem into her heart …

“May”s are birds of pain in the sky of wishes 

Fly … fly … and disappear. 

The past of my hands are Greek Gods 

Has been forgotten 

Buried in the cemetery of history 

My eyes were buried in your far beautifulness 

Bury me with my loneliness in autumn colors 

It’s autumn … 

Leaves are bulletin of elections 

The trees elect the death 

*** 

The cemetery of letter 

I kissed the darkness of the night …

I entered into the sun pages of the morning. 

My hands bear the greenness of leaves, 

Spring is my hands …

Looked into the world to find my eyes.

The legs of men pain, 

Scarf blows on the head of the woman, 

The scarf 

Blows like the flag of the country, 

Blows …

The hands are opened to the poem in my mind, 

Catches the skirt of twilight, 

The opened hands for the poem in my mind are shackled, 

Drowned in the sweat 

It’s a long time, the mirrors don’t show the poets 

Poets have been buried in the cemetery of letters 

Here, the sun sets down with the time of women 

Here, the wind blows from darkness 

*** 

The love beast 

Nothing remained for trust 

Nothing remained for waiting 

The last train left empty 

The people of memories didn’t catch the train …

This season passed very hard 

Like a year without spring 

Nothing remained for cheering glasses 

No kneed to rest our heads …

The color of my voice is autumn 

Falls from the boughs of love 

The lips are closed …

The window is covered by steam …

The beast of my love lives in a glass 

Breaks by a word 

I can die by a word …

Umid Najjari was born on 15th of April 1989 in Tabriz (Iran). After graduating from Islamic Azad University of Tabriz in 2016, he entered Baku Aurasia University to continue his studies in Philology in Republic of Azerbaijan. “The land of the birds” and “Beyond the walls” are among his published works in addition to some translations. His poems have been published in USA, Canada, Spain, Italy, India, Turkey, Uzbekistan, Iraq, Kazakhstan, Georgia, Chile and Iranian media. He was awarded the International LIFFT festival diploma in 2019. He achieved “IWA Bogdani” Award in 2021. He was awarded the “Mihai Eminescu” Award in 2022. He was awarded the International Prize “Medal Alexandre The Great” in 2022. He is  Vice-President of the BOGDANI international writers’ association, with headquarters in Brussels and Pristina. and Turkic World Young Authors Association.

Poetry from Grzegorz Wróblewski, translated to English by Peter Burzyński

WIDZENIA


Dwa lemury na drzewie… 
Rozumiemy, rozumiemy. Podłoże 
psychosomatyczne, 
czyli zespół 
wyjątkowo niespokojnych 
paznokci. 


A swoją drogą, czy ma pan jeszcze 
widzenia? 
Gdzie pan właściwie był, 
jak pana wśród nas 
przez tydzień 
nie było? 


Jak to gdzie? Odebrał sobie życie 
i po powrocie 
pije, 
stał się oszczędny i unika 
filetów z atlantyckiego dorsza. A jednak 
smażenie! 


Proszę podawać trzy tabletki 
na dobę. 
(Dwa lemury na drzewie…) 
I ma nagle negatywny stosunek 
do służby 
wojskowej. 


W takim razie cztery. 
Trzy po posiłkach, 
a czwartą jak znowu zacznie sikać 
po żywopłotach. 
Jeśli już raz odebrał sobie życie,
nie pozwólmy mu teraz żyć.

Sight

Two lemurs sat in a tree and chatted.

“We understand, we understand.

The subsoil is psychosomatic—

filled with a team of nervous nail-biters.”

“By-the-way, do you still have your sight?

Where were you? We didn’t see you

for a week.”

“How so?” He had taken his own life

and after reincarnating he drank heavily,

became unusually frugal, and avoided

eating filets of Atlantic cod

(even the fried ones).

A doctor advised him: “Please take three pills

each day.”

He returned to the tree; suddenly

developed a negative view

of military service;

so, the doctor upped it to four—

three after a meal and another

after urinating on the hedges.

“If he already killed himself once,

let’s not really let him have a life.”

NAD STAWEM


Psy zaczynają na siebie
polować.

Jak padnie ostatni,

nie będzie już kogo
jeść.

By the Pond

Dogs have begun hunting

each other.

When the last falls,

there won’t be anyone left

to eat.

NA DRUGIM PIĘTRZE


Mieszka mięso.

Ciepłe, tłuste
mięso.

Zwabimy je psiną
i wysuszymy

na haku.

On the Second Floor

lives a piece of meat—

warm, fatty

meat.

We’ll lure the doggies in

and dry them

on a hook. 

ŚWIEŻE MIĘSO


Jest lepsze 
od solonego.

Przyszłość 
nie ma smaku.

Fresh Meat

is better 

than cured meat.

The future holds no

flavor.

Synchronized Chaos First March Issue: Oh, the Humanity!

Silhouettes of over a dozen people lining up to hold hands and stand straight on a beach peninsula at sunset or sunrise. Clouds and the glowing sun, reflection in water.
Image c/o Omar Sahel

Poet Pat Doyne invites writers to enter the Tor House poetry contest. Submissions must be sent via snail mail to the address in the link and postmarked by March 15th.

Poet Eva Petropoulou shares that Our Poetry Association, an international writers’ collective, has opened submissions for its spring contest, with a theme of justice.

Poet and essayist Abigail George, whom we’ve published many times, shares the fundraiser her book’s press has created for her. She’s seeking contributions for office supplies and resources to be able to serve as a speaker and advocate for others who have experienced trauma or deal with mental health issues.

Synchronized Chaos Magazine also encourages you to watch short videos of international authors, artists, and activists interviewed on the Xena World chat show, including several of our contributors.

Poet Annie Finch seeks assistance with training a new app that will identify and teach different forms of poetic scansion. She’s looking for people who know how to do scansion manually to go over the collection of poems in the training set.

Essayist and poet Chimezie Ihekuna seeks a publisher for his children’s story collection Family Time. Family Time! is a series that is aimed at educating, entertaining and inspiring children between the ages of two and seven years of age. It is intended to engage parents, teachers and children with stories that bring a healthy learning relationship among them.

Essayist Jeff Rasley’s new book is out: It’s a story inspired by my own experience of a sophisticated California kid transferring to my grade school in the small town of Goshen, Indiana in 1965. It did not go well, when the new kid challenged the “gang” of kids who thought they were the cool kids who ruled the playground. For most of us, it was a blip in our lives. But one boy never recovered. 

It is a short story, just 25 pages. So it only costs $2.99 for the ebook and $9.99 for the paperback. For some of you, it may evoke nostalgia for a time gone by (like using Juno instead of gmail). For others, it will be historical fiction from a strange time and place.
Check it out at https://www.amazon.com/Came-Parkside-School-Jack-Thriller-Mystery-Romance -ebook/dp/B0DY9TKL6V

Contributor Kelly Moyer has a new book out, Mother Pomegranate and Other Fairy Tales for Grown-Ups. It includes the piece “The Pussy Whip” which she sent to Synchronized Chaos, as well as many other stories. It’s available here.

Contributing poet and Pushcart nominee Kurt Nimmo’s new book Texas and New Mexico: Selected Poems 2015-2025 is out and available here.

Our April 1st issue will be crafted by co-editor Kahlil Crawford. He’s a poet, musician, and essayist who has put together previous issues on Latin Culture and Electronic Music.

Chevalier's Books. Front of the store with glass windows showcasing all sorts of books. Store's name is in gold script letters on a dark pink painted background.

In March we will have a presence at the Association of Writing Programs conference in L.A. which will include an offsite reading at Chevalier’s Books on Saturday, March 29th at 6 pm. All are welcome to attend!

So far the lineup for our reading includes Asha Dore, Douglas Cole, Scott Ferry, Linda Michel-Cassidy, Aimee Suzara, Reverie Fey, Ava Homa, Michelle Gonzalez, Terry Tierney, Anisa Rahim, Katrina Byrd, Cindy Rinne, Norma Smith, and Kelliane Parker.

Black on yellow announcement for STAY WP on March 28-30th, typewriter clip art picture on the right.

Author Justin Hamm is hosting a FREE online literary event the weekend of AWP, known as StayWP. This will include author talks, informative panels, book launches and networking!

To register, please click here: https://docs.google.com/…/1FAIpQLSe0jqgxfQn…/viewform…

Human of indeterminate gender with a rainbow of colors of paint bursting out of his/her head. Image in profile.
Image c/o Gerd Altmann

Now, for the first March issue, Oh, the Humanity!

Paul Tristram, like Whitman, sings of himself with easy confidence and exhilaration in life’s experiences. Philip Butera’s poetry speaks to the masks we wear and finding the courage to be authentic. Grzegorz Wroblewski digs deep into our fleshy reality, addressing the “meat” of our existence and our bodies’ undeniable needs. Tojiyeva Muxlisa also looks at our bodies, outlining common gynecological diseases and their treatments.

Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai’s poetry explores human emotion: romantic attraction, loneliness, grief, and confidence. Kendall Snipper speaks to the small and large sensations that bring back memories. Stephen Jarrell Williams looks back at the ‘paradise’ of his hometown in a moment of nostalgia. David Sapp recollects the wildness and local color of his boyhood days.

Kylian Cubilla Gomez’ photography captures a sense of whimsy and joy. A cat, Jean-Paul Moyer, partners with poet Kelly Moyer to create splashy, colorful paintings by moving paint around on canvas.

Life meets art in Alan Catlin’s work, as he recollects bits of his past and how he engaged with literary movements and cultural icons. Mark Young evokes moments of change, evolution, and decision in his poetry, as characters grapple with taking stock of themselves. Alaina Hammond’s drama explores the tension and commonalities behind practitioners of different art forms, and how and why they chose their crafts.

Umida Haydaraliyeva expresses the creative joy of an emerging author. Muhabbat Abdurahimova speaks to a poet’s quest for inspiration. Chris Foltopoulos’ guitar plucks out dulcet tones on his experimental music project Arpeggios. Chuck Taylor turns to writing as one of many ways to find solace during fits of insomnia.

Mahbub writes of a dream journey through gardens and his early childhood as Rus Khomutoff’s visual poetry takes us on a dreamlike quest through the beauty and mystery and riddle of our existence. Chuck Kramer’s work comes from a speaker of a certain age reflecting on their life and its meaning, finding purpose through experience teaching young children.

Ilhomova Mohichehra offers up her gratitude to her teacher. Bibikhanifa Jumanazarova poetizes about her mother’s wisdom and gentleness. Ibrahimova Halima Vahobjonovna celebrates the lifelong love and devotion of her mother as Sevinch Abirova contributes a piece of love and appreciation for a younger family member. Mirta Liliana Ramirez points out how she learned and got stronger from her past experiences, even from people who were not kind to her. Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa speaks to the power of kindness and friendship, even online friendship across the distance, to affect our lives.

Yellow female-looking faces with bits of blue and red and orange blending into each other. Stylized art where faces overlap and share features.
Image c/o Gerd Altmann

Mesfakus Salahin recollects the joy of young love on a warm evening. Xavier Womack speaks of a crush and the desire for a deep connection with a classmate. Anna Keiko speaks to the joy, strength, and staying power of true love. Jeannette Tiburcio Marquez evokes the joy and sweet surrender of ballroom dance with a romantic partner.

Kristy Raines’ poetry explores both interpersonal romantic love and human compassion for the world. Peter Cherches’ short stories probe how much we owe each other as fellow inhabitants of the planet, how far we will go for each other. Graciela Noemi Villaverde expresses her hopes and dreams for international peace among humanity, and Eva Petropoulou does the same for the sake of the world’s children. She also pays tribute to her deceased father.

Dr. Adnan Ali Gujjar offers up a poetic tribute to the grace and mentorship of poet Eva Petropoulou Lianou and her advocacy for peace and global justice. Dr. Jernail Anand’s essay argues for the value of art and literature for a fully developed and moral society.

Nozima Gofurova shares about an inspiring visit to one of Uzbekistan’s national centers for the visual and performing arts. Poet and magazine editor Maja Milojkovic interviews one of Serbia’s greatest living poets, Dr. Maja Herman Sekulik, on her writing journey and the need for artists to teach ethics and culture to the next generation.

Saidqulova Nozima sings of her Uzbek homeland as Munisa Azimova celebrates her Uzbek heritage and homeland in tender verse. Still others focus on the nation’s many accomplished writers. Sevinch Shukurova illustrates how the genre of poetry allowed Uzbek writer Alexander Faynberg to concisely and directly express his message. Nilufar Anvarova sends up a poem on the creative legacy of Uzbek writer and statesman Erkin Vahidov. Odina Azamqulova highlights the contributions of writer and translator Ozod Sharafiddinov to Uzbekistan’s literary heritage.

Nosirova Surayyo offers up suggestions for becoming fluent speaking in a second language. Maftuna Bozorova encourages readers to learn about other cultures through learning foreign languages. Abduraximova Farida Khomiljon examines various methods for teaching English as a second language.

Noelia Cerna, in her new poetry collection Las Piedrecitas, as reviewed by Cristina Deptula, endures great loss, abuse, and racism. She finds the strength to stand firm in her own worth as a woman and a Central American immigrant in the United States, claiming her culture and her identity.

Poet and magazine editor Maja Milojkovic interviews poet and peace activist Eva Petropoulou Lianou about the power of our shared global poetic heritage to connect us.

Nafosat Nomozova draws connections among art, life, and the universal language of mathematics.

Bridge with rickety wooden planks near tufts of grass, heading towards sunlight but with gathering storm clouds.
Image c/o Omar Sahel

Lazzatoy Shukurillayeva translates a poem by historical Uzbek writer Alisher Navoi that considers the vagaries of fate. Duane Vorhees speaks with a gentle humor to both intimacy and mortality. J.K. Durick’s work comments on transience: money, moments in time, even our health will pass. Kurt Nimmo addresses forms of living death in his work alongside actual mortality: being stuck in a dead-end job, being addicted, having one’s life’s work erased.

Mykyta Ryzhykh crafts a somber, deathly world. Jacques Fleury’s protagonist drowns himself in a quest for oblivion after his mental illness drives his family away, missing some potential positive news after his passing. Alex S. Johnson’s short story character decides against suicide when he encounters “spirits” who wish they had had more time on Earth.

Paul Durand’s piece explores how Andy Warhol transcended his ordinary, vulnerable humanity through art and fame. Taylor Dibbert finds a kind of strange and transcendent solace in the fact that great authors have written about the kinds of travel mishaps he experiences.

Maftuna Rustamova reflects on life lessons from growing up poor. Joseph C. Ogbonna describes the small and large privations of life in poverty in Nigeria. J.J. Campbell speaks to his memories, life, struggles, and inevitable death. Denis Emorine’s excerpt from his upcoming novel Broken Identities addresses the long shadow of the Holocaust in the cultural and personal memories of academics and writers.

Variety of darker and lighter pigeons search for scant bits of food on hard and barren ground.
Image c/o Bachchuram Bhandari

Pat Doyne lambasts Donald Trump’s plan to take over and gentrify the Gaza Strip by displacing its impoverished residents. Bill Tope’s short story traces how casual prejudice and homophobia can lead to violence. Abeera Mirza’s poetry tells the tale of how a young wife escapes domestic violence. Bill Tope and Doug Hawley’s collaborative story also presents hope as a wife bravely confronts her husband about his behavior and he chooses accountability and sobriety.

DK Jammin’ turns to his faith for moments of grace and solace in ordinary life despite a complex and sometimes harsh world. Sara Hunt Florez recalls the constant passage of time and encourages us to make the most of what we have, even in small moments with those around us. Ma Yongbo speaks to shifting reality and impermanence, human limitations and death, and the immortality he finds through creativity.

Isabella Gomez de Diego’s photos reflect the simple joys of nature, family, home, children, and faith. Maja Milojkovic offers simple kindness to a ladybug, releasing the insect to fly and dream freely outside. Lidia Popa reaches deep inside her mind to find inner personal peace.

Sayani Mukherjee revels in the small pleasures of a spring tea party. Rasulova Rukhshona celebrates Central Asian spring Nowruz New Year with a poem about loving grandparents, flowers and birds.

Brian Barbeito’s prose piece evokes his youth and personal creative awakening. Mushtariy Tolanboyeva expresses the lament of an impatient tree who wanted to blossom, but bloomed too early before winter finished.

Two human hands, two different people, holding a pigeon on a sunny day with a few clouds in the sky.
Image c/o Omar Sahel

Daniel De Culla’s piece illuminates his love for all of the planet’s life and recognizes that each species’ existence is inter-related. Adaboyev Maqsad’s essay suggests pathways towards ecological sustainability, elucidating economic and legal means of addressing environmental issues.

Murodjon Asomidinov also discusses economics and global justice, calling for empowering the youth of the world through financial literacy education.

Z.I. Mahmud’s essay explores feminist Indian writer Amar Jiban’s writing about the struggles of older single and widowed women and the need for all women to have education as a pathway to independence and financial security. Nurmatova Aziza relates the tale of a young woman who bucks traditional gender expectations by traveling to the city for an advanced degree.

We hope that this issue will be a source of empowerment, commiseration, and merriment at the many facets of our shared humanity and our shared connection with the rest of Earth’s life.

*************