----------------------------------------------------------------------
to try harder
i usually have to be
pretty fucking close
to drunk off my ass
to try to talk to any
beautiful woman
i don't know
i remember a night
in a club back in
my twenties where
i approached this
gorgeous black
woman and said
some gibberish
she laughed and
told me to try
harder
i laughed and said
something stupid
enough to make
her smile and tell
me to go get her
a drink
when i came back
she was making out
with some other guy
apparently, i wasn't
drunk enough for the
beer muscles to kick
in
but i did enjoy her
amaretto sour
-----------------------------------------------------------------
the locusts
happiness is
one of those
rare events
anymore
i treat it like
a comet or
the locusts
it's not what
i want in my
life, but i
suppose it's
just the way
it is
they say
money can't
buy happiness
well guess
what
neither can
being poor
----------------------------------------------
in cowboy boots
drove past a woman
mowing her grass
in cowboy boots
i smiled
got home to find
my grass being
cut by the cousin
that molested me
as a child
i don't think
you'd call this
a smile
--------------------------------------------------------
the lines of pain
trace
the
lines
of pain
on this
broken
face
the
sweet
caress
of your
bloody
fingers
may
it be
the
last
thing
i
remember
--------------------------------------------------
looking for trouble
it's been years since
i went out drinking
looking for trouble
the last time that
happened i was
taking a girl to
go buy crack at
seven in the
morning
after a long night
of drinking and
fucking around
in some strip
clubs
looking back
i probably should
have had her buy
some for me
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know better. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Rye Whiskey Review and The Asylum Floor. He has a new book out with Casey Renee Kiser from RaVenGhost Press, Altered States of The Unflinching Souls. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
August
Teal blue of my fairy strands
The murderous blues
The hauntings of sun dried cuts
Kill your belongings
It's August
They said
But I'm still
Hooking my drunken soul
My red wined Coolings
Can't
Your own dealing
Homicides across globe
My spirits a childish grimace
Enjoy your youth
Sip be merry
A good natured wife
Milk of human kindness
Halted on
London bridges
Cycling through ages
Your white coloured tie
Pattern of your very being
Still my child's sweater
Warm sipping
A home cooked meal
But
The city's on fire
A Phoenix Soul
Soon a torpedo glory
Sky high nebulas
I screamed through
Be drunken white
Your own patterns
Still it's August
They said
And My.
Entreaties from the Pinnacles of Despair
Know yourself before knowing others
Believe in yourself before you trust blindly
Judge yourself better than judging blood,
and bones of a smiling on friendly faces.
Don’t carry your past sins into your sober life
Get some sleep before the liquor drink you
Get some rest before the cigarette inhale you
Cry and let your tears drown the knife by your flesh.
You can only change the world with your knowledge
Be the leader of your dreams and open arm’s happiness
Change the directions of death, anxiety, and depression
Remember you are miserable because your coffin has fallen
_into the hands of people you once adopted and adored
They farewell the world in silence with only the presence of
death. Meanwhile, you try to call them, text them and ask
your parents if they heard anything about them from trip to exile.
The sun, which has lost its summer power, barely shines, and it was not even warm. The coldness of the day moved to the heart of the old woman sitting in the corner of the yard. The heart of the old woman who lost her only child a few years ago was frozen, as if facing the ice. The old man, who could not keep silent about her condition, one day brought a white cow with red spots, which was very beautiful.
The old woman looked at the cow for a long time and approached it and started stroking it. As the days gave way to the months, the old woman loved the cow like her own child and did not stay away from her. The cow also gave white and delicious milk every day only for the old man and the old woman. The old woman was struggling with the cow, and the cow was listening to her.
Towards evening, dark clouds surrounded the gloomy sky. The sky was constantly roaring with grassy streaks. The old woman was upset and thought about her cow. After a sleepless night, she ran towards the corner of the yard. Except for her eyes, her face was white, her lips were trembling. There is no cow. The yard wall was broken, apparently the cow was stolen. The old woman was crying, and the old man ran to the street. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find the cow.
When he came home, the old woman was lying on the edge of the yard. The old man got scared and helped the old woman, the old woman was sobbing: «my child is in a bad condition», «he is not well». Hearing that the old woman was not well, the neighbor came out two days later to prepare a hearty, meaty meal. Then the old woman:
– Thank you so much. But I can’t have this food.
– Why?
– You said the other day that you and your children have not tasted salt for two days, that you are living in hunger, and that it is difficult to support a family without a husband. I do not want to eat their food. Give it to your children. I will be happy.
The neighbor, whose eyes were on the ground and her face was red, was sitting in silence, unable to open her mouth.
– «We have everything,» – she said without raising her head.
When the old woman said «Ok» and opened the food brought by the neighbor, her heart was pounding, and the tears in her eyes formed a stream on her face. In a trembling voice:
– «My child» – she said as she fell to the ground, seeing the meat of her cow, the death of her child, whom she lost a few years ago, was embodied before her eyes.
But this time she could not bear the separation…
Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntosporlasletras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korablznaniy» and «TalentyRossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «KayvaKishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina;s «Multi Art-6», Kenya’s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
Sometimes, I miss my older self more than anyone and anything else. I want to go back to the times when I was a baby. Why do you think happiness is so cheap when you are around babies? You make funny faces and noises just to see them content. This is because babies allow you to feel complete, without any judgement about your appearance or reputation. Painful thing is we were all once babies and used to spread love just with our smile.
I remember my first success: the highest score on an exam. After that, more people reached out to me to be friends. That felt great for someone like me who had not been exposed to such a big community. Whenever I detected that I was falling behind, I used to feel like a failure and useless even when I had many things to be grateful for.
My grades were my confidence marker. Why? Because I had already determined the extent of my happiness. My whole world was revolving around one particular tag as more people started to respect me. But I dismissed the point that they were close with me for not who I was but for what I had. I hate the way people needed me only when i was top of the class. I compromised the little girl who used to create and see happiness all around for the sake of approval and recognition. Unfortunately, we all lost our capacity to be happy for no reason. We have been manipulated into believing that worth is defined by money, decent work or prestigious university admissions.
We are rarely pleased with our life because we attached our happiness to goals. We are used to saving up happiness for successful moments. Also, this world isn’t driven by greed but by envy. If only you wished to be happy, this could be easily achieved. But we wish to be happier than others which is difficult, for which we believe others to have more than we do. It is so much easier now to look around and say: I may have more than I used to. But, relative to that person, I don’t feel like I’m doing that great. On you way of superiority and perfection, You start to treat differently to your boss, different to friends, different to parents. In all of this, the real you is lost. You might get to the point that nothing seems to bring joy to you.
You remind yourself that everyone has different stories and circumstances. The person who has more achievements than you may have started earlier. Or the person who won the lottery can cry in the bed at night for feeling depressed. See, no one is perfect out there. But, here you want to be like everyone who has something glittery and shiny. This is like nurturing false hope in your heart just to see them crushing every piece of you every day. Instead, your heart should be your compass that guides you on what you need and want. And your mind is capable of figuring out how. Don’t forget yourself in the noise of this world.
If you spend your life chasing butterflies, they’ll fly away. But if you create a beautiful garden, butterflies will come themselves. Happiness is the capacity to which we allow ourselves to feel good. Happiness is in the things you can choose to feel, like love. You should either fell it in the moment or you miss it like a butterfly. We should accept and even embrace pains of life. The hardship you are gong through while studying, difficulty in waking up early for school or your first heartbreak. You might experience them again, but they wont give you that first exceptional feelings. You will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.
I know the self-discovery journey is lifelong. And I’m at the beginning. it has been a while since I started to do everything with self-awareness, curiosity and compassion. It feels like the whole world is trying to please me. For me, happiness can be as small as the smell of my morning tea, the rays of sunshine kissing my cheeks or the random flower I see on street. So, here is a kind reminder: Happiness is undefinable and you are beyond the titles of this world.
