black beans for dinner . . . I didn’t go outside of the shelter today
—
rain on warehouse roof . . . orange Fanta frenzy at the homeless shelter
—
middle of the night . . . the shelter’s vending machine declines debit card
—
sips of a cold Sprite outside of the laundromat . . . ambulance sirens
—
today they will spray the homeless shelter for bugs— popcorn in my shoe
bio/graf
J. D. Nelson is the author of ten print chapbooks and e-books of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). 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 Colorado, USA.
An Ode to My Appendix
O you useless thing! excrescence waggling
at the dead end of the bag of anatomy
that sits like a judge’s wig on the maze of small
snaking intestine, waiting there like a bandit
to trap the unsuspecting on their long journey to the sewer,
and then inflate out of all proportion to sense or nonsense,
cause earthquakes across the belly’s terra firma,
send waves of fever to cloud the imperious mind,
and bring the mighty down over an undigested tomato seed!
O rag of flesh! O slippery traitor! O itchy little Finger of Fate!
O miserable reminder of our weakness and God’s power!
One cannot get rid of you soon enough!
What a miserable twenty-four hours! Convulsed at 7 pm,
to the hospital next day for hours of tests,
then off to the ER, in suspense among a fluttering crowd
of nurses, MAs, doctors, surgeons, new patients,
then spirited to pre-op and OR, in suspense awaiting the outcome
of two emergency caesarians (women and children first!),
then, the last thing before going under, a glance
at a big clock showing ten minutes to midnight . . .
No one still knows any reason
an appendix was ever there in the first place. Some say
it had something to do with the “immune system.” I say,
if that case, it was made to help immunize the world from the likes of us!
No, you are probably just one of God’s little jokes:
to give idle surgeons something to keep their hands busy
when they don’t have anything better to do on a Friday at midnight.
_____
Christopher Bernard’s collection The Socialist’s Garden of Verses won a PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award and was named one of the “Top 100 Indie Books of 2021” by Kirkus Reviews. His two “tales for children and their adults” – If You Ride A Crooked Trolley . . . and The Judgment Of Biestia – will be available in December 2023.
You lock into your history, your past, withdrawal,
taste honeycomb, then cow salt lick.
All your life, you have danced in your soft shoes.
Find free lottery tickets in the pockets of poor men and strangers.
Numbers rhyme like winners, but they are just losers.
Positive numbers tug like gray blankets, poor horses coming in 1st.
Private angry walls; desperate is the night.
You control intellect, josser men.
You take them in, push them out,
circle them with silliness.
Everything turns indigo blue in grief.
I hear your voice, fragmented words in thunder.
An actress buried in degrees of lousy weather and blindness.
I leave you alone, wander the prairie path by myself.
Pray for wildflowers, the simple types. No one cares.
Purple colors, false colors, hibiscus on guard,
lilacs are freedom seekers, now no howls in death.
You are the cookie crumble of my dreams.
Three marriages in the past.
I hear you knocking my walls down, heaven stars creating dreams.
Once beautiful in the rainbow sun, my face, even snow
now cast in banners, blank, fire, and flames.
I cycle a self-absorbed nest of words.
Casket of Love (V3)
This moon, clinging to a cloudless sky,
offers the light by which we love.
In this park, grass knees high, tickling bare feet,
offers the place we pass pleasant smiles.
Sir Winston Churchill would have
saluted the stately manner this fog lifts,
marching in time across this pond
layering its ghostly body over us
cuddled by the water’s edge,
as if we are burdened by this sealed
casket called love.
Frogs in the marsh, crickets beneath the crocuses
trumpet the last farewell.
A flock of Canadian geese flies overhead
in military V formation.
Yet how lively your lips tremble
against my skin in a manner no
sane soldier dare deny.
Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. Today he is a poet in the greater Chicagoland area, IL. He has 295 YouTube poetry videos. Michael Lee Johnson is an internationally published poet in 44 countries, a song lyricist, has several published poetry books, has been nominated for six Pushcart Prize awards, and six Best of the Net nominations. He is editor-in-chief of three poetry anthologies, all available on Amazon, and has several poetry books and chapbooks. He has over 453 published poems. Michael is the administrator of 6 Facebook Poetry groups. Member Illinois State Poetry Society: http://www.illinoispoets.org/. Remember to consider me for Best of the Net or Pushcart nomination!
We love to map our lives on geometry. Work is a grid of many discrete boxes. Play is the tangent refreshing the unpredictable impulse. Romance is a Venn diagram where overlap turbocharges the heart. Friendship plots to X and Y where the point of intersection undulates in the great sine curve of closeness. Aging is an arc bending towards infinity. Fibonacci numbers shape our thoughts into graceful proportions, an echo chamber of golden ratios. The fractals of enthusiasm bump against the paisley of tenderness. Euclid and Pythagoras made the body Earth’s measure, and Nature harmonizes our internal geometry.
####
Kathleen Hulser is a poet, writer and public historian who lives in the Bronx and Connecticut, and has participated in many public art projects and activist groups as well as curating history exhibitions such as Slavery in New York and Petropolis: Urban Animal Companions.
Once again, Synchronized Chaos Magazine expresses sympathy for all the people affected by the recent violence in the Middle East and shares the hope for a peaceful and just resolution and for justice and equality for the region’s many groups of people.
In the spirit of what we do here, we are sharing author Michael Lukas’ recommendations of fiction and poetry from both Israelis and Palestinians that he and others believe will help people understand the issues and the cultures in the region.
Please feel welcome to suggest other titles.
We are also aware that Afghanistan has suffered an earthquake that has killed thousands of people. We invite people to help however they can and suggest the Afghan-founded and led organization RAWA which assists those of all genders and racial backgrounds in the country. They are seeking people to translate articles on their website and help in a variety of ways.
Also, we stand with the people of Burma who are continuing to undergo war and repression. We encourage people to assist through groups such as Doctors Without Borders. And we acknowledge the great conflict and displacement crisis in Sudan and encourage people to donate books (textbooks included, everything except murder mysteries and encyclopedias) to schools in Africa through Books for Africa.
This month’s issue looks at life from different vantage points: from speakers who are fully engaged in their surroundings and from others who overhear or watch from a distance.
Brian Michael Barbeito shares the experience of sitting alone and catching bits of nearby conversations. Michael Tyler relates encounters with random people at a party. J.D. Nelson reflects on the sounds he hears at night a men’s homeless shelter.
Christopher Bernard’s poem’s narrator finds herself mistakenly at her own funeral, overhearing snatches of gossip while entombed in a coffin.
In his photography, Daniel De Culla focuses in on objects and creatures that are slightly out of place. In Mark Young’s poem, a postwoman brings the slightly-askance world to the speaker’s doorstep. Nathan Anderson plays with words and letters in a rhythmical manner reminiscent of electronic music while Thomas Fink contributes unique horseshoe-shaped concrete poems on memory and change.
Taylor Dibbert writes of his speaker’s loss of London the dog, a moment he never knew would be the last with her.
Qosimova Parizoda speculates on the psychology of a short lived butterfly. Do they grieve the brevity of their existence?
Jerry Langdon evokes mortality in a philosophical, tragic sense through the symbol of a gathering of ravens, while Zahro Shamsiyya speculates on the world after her future death.
Others focus in, deeply absorbed by a place or setting.
Isabel Gomez de Diego sends up photographic vignettes of fall country life, people, leaves, and apples. Brian Barbeito’s photography is a selection of natural moments, a mix of panoramas and closeups. Monira Mahbub celebrates the natural and human beauty of her country, Bangladesh.
Mesfakus Salahin describes the poetry written in the shapes of clouds, while Annie Johnson reflects on night’s blurring the edges between imagination, sentiment, and reality. Azemina Krehic meditates on danger through a surreal image of a mulberry tree.
Wazed Abdullah highlights the beauty and charm of music. John Culp metaphorically illustrates how the world of natural and human-built objects metaphorically calls to each other and communicates.
Graciela Noemi Villaverde loses herself and her bearings in the vast fiery energy of her creativity.
Kristy Raines highlights how true love fosters her personal growth and helps her become her best self, while Samuel Dayo evokes the intense emotions that come from romance. Faleeha Hassan depicts a love that consumes a woman’s life yet perennially remains a fantasy. Elmaya Jabbarova wistfully reflects on the tender feelings that can come with love and separation while Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa rejoices in romantic and family love that shines like a light in a sea of cruelty.
Jim Meirose sends up a story about how we relate to the physical, animal parts of ourselves.
Denis Emorine’s new collection A Step Inside, reviewed by Cristina Deptula, probes the inner struggles of an artist to create.
Many others are involved in their worlds, yet still observing themselves and others from a distance.
John Grey reflects on uncertainty through his humorous poems on life’s caprices. Noah Berlatsky considers his relative importance in the poetic sphere with humility.
Jerry Durick’s poetic speakers attempt to figure out their travels in various humorous ways.
Duane Vorhees writes of living within this world and seeking transcendence beyond it, while J.J. Campbell speaks to mortality and nostalgia and Dilnurabonu Vaisova sends up a poem of love and longing. Niginabonu Amirova looks back on the games her grandparents played on the playground and the life lessons they learned from them.
Muhammad Ubandoma writes of natural and supernatural forces which people can’t escape. Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumnova expresses a sadness so deep she wishes to destroy her own poetry. Aasma Tahir relates a kind-hearted soul’s escape from a city that had hurt them, while Aklima Ankhi watches the state of the world with concerned vigilance.
This frame of mind has the advantage of allowing contributors to see the world as it is, yet speculate on alternative possibilities.
Maja Milojkovic urges all humans to heed the call of Mother Nature and keep the Earth clean and healthy. Mahbub Alam laments political violence and environmental destruction. Amanda Dixon describes her trip to a nature sanctuary along Georgia (USA)’s Ocmulgee River’s longleaf pine forests in great detail and reflects on how she and others can reconnect with nature. She further develops this theme in a poem on how embracing natural jungle environments helped heal post-traumatic stress syndrome for children of soldiers home from war.
Parvej Husain Takuder outlines some hypothetical positives and negatives of artificial intelligence technology.
Muhammad Ehsan offers a guide to leadership that inspires people towards competence rather than rote obedience.
Santiago Burdon conveys the continuing pull of past bad habits and wishes for better for himself.
Odina Rustamjonova resolves to make the most of life and keep a good attitude in hard times, while Terna Nicholas dreams of a better day in the future. Manzar Alam holds out long-awaited hope for a kinder world amidst terrible social injustice and violence.
Begim Khadjieva outlines a moral dilemma on friendship, family, and hospitality, while Rukhsatbegim Hojieva shares a story about the virtue of being good even at risk to yourself. Ochilova Nozima speaks to the importance of respect and love for one’s elders.
Sevenchbonu Ozodova contributes an essay on how girls and women need education and skills to ensure their security. Bakhtiyorova Gavkhar outlines the educational programs of a leading university in Uzbekistan.
Yahya Azeroglu describes the accomplishments of Turkish human rights campaigner Nergiz Muhammedi and her qualifications for the Nobel Peace Prize. Susie Gharib pays tribute to dead Middle East human rights activist Rachel Corrie while reflecting on loss, regret, and silence.
Daniel De Culla draws on a dead pigeon as a metaphor for civilians who die in wartime, while Taofeeq Ibrahim issues a strident call for peace in his nation. Mykyta Ryzhykh evokes the tragicomedy of life and death in light of modern warfare while Stephen Jarrell Williams speaks to death and desolation and to the day when the powerful who wish harm to others will be brought down. Sayani Mukherjee highlights the preciousness of peace, how working through conflict and finding common ground can be even more difficult than love.
This issue suggests that there’s a place for both spectators and participants, both for those who actively take part in life and those who stop to listen and learn first. We hope you enjoy these reads!
Butterfly
The life of a butterfly is one day,
Isn't it hard for him?
Thinking of living one day after all,
Is not the biggest concern.
I thought once,
A butterfly has no heart.
Doesn't he cry?
It hurts even if he has a heart.
I have a question,
Don't come?
They are also each other,
I will hurt your hearts.
✍️ Qosimova Parizoda
Longing letter
I took a step towards you again,
Hopes for the eternal springs.
I have a longing letter in my hand
Endless heart-wrenching writings.
I took a step towards you again,
I had to send my letter a long time ago.
A grassy suspicion scratches my heart
Missing does not give peace for some reason?
I take one step towards you,
Endless thoughts fall like rain.
What about U? There are thousands of you who are silent
The hearts are filled with hope.
I took a step towards you again,
There are empty rooms in my heart.
This is a longing note full of pain and lamentation,
I know you have those pictures in your mind.
I take a step towards you every day...
✍ Dilnurabonu Vaisova
Student of Bukhara state university
