In the dawn of life’s first breath, With love as deep as ocean’s depth, Stand our parents, strong and true, Guiding paths for me and you.
Father’s hands, worn and wise, Hold the stars in endless skies, Teaching strength, instilling pride, With gentle words and a steadfast stride.
Mother’s heart, a beacon bright, Glows with love, purest light, Her tender care, a soft embrace, A sacred bond time can’t erase.
Through the storms and sunny days, In their gaze, a timeless blaze, They nurture dreams, dispel our fears, With whispered hopes and silent tears.
In their laughter, warmth we find, In their patience, hearts aligned, Their sacrifices, vast and grand, Shape the future with a loving hand.
For every night, they stayed awake, For every tear, they chose to break, Their selfless love, a boundless sea, An endless source of strength for me.
So here’s to parents, pillars strong, In our hearts, where they belong, Eternal guardians, steadfast, near, Their love, a treasure, everclear.
Sadoqatxon Sabirjon qizi Ahmadaliyeva was born on January 12, 2008, in Uzbekistan. She is currently an 11th-grade student at School №32. She is learning English and Arabic. She has a passion for history and has read many books on the subject. This year, she received a certificate for successfully participating in the pilot testing process for the PISA international research.
In the cradle of the dawn’s soft light, Where dreams are woven through the night, There lies a love, both pure and deep, A mother’s heart where angels sleep.
Her hands are gentle, yet so strong, A balm for sorrows, a soothing song, In every touch, a world is found, Her love, the ever-constant ground.
Through sleepless nights and days so long, She carries burdens, sings a song, Her whispers calm the storms inside, In her embrace, the world’s at guide.
Her eyes, a mirror of the skies, Reflecting hope, where sorrow flies, With every tear, a lesson shared, In every laugh, a heart repaired.
She builds a haven, warm and bright, A beacon through the darkest night, Her love, a fire that ever burns, A light for every heart that yearns.
In every word, a promise true, Of dreams fulfilled and skies of blue, A mother’s love, so vast, so grand, A timeless touch, a guiding hand.
So here’s to her, both near and far, The quiet strength, the shining star, In every heart, her love does grow, A mother’s love, forever aglow.
Sobirjonov Dilmurod Toymurodovich was born into an intellectual family in Vobkent district, Bukhara region. He has a strong passion for creativity and is constantly supported by his parents. He enjoys writing poetry, short stories, and ghazals. His works have been published in numerous newspapers and magazines. He has participated in countless competitions and won many prestigious awards.
He is growing up to be a dedicated individual ready to sacrifice his life for his homeland. He will raise the name of his nation, Uzbekistan, to new heights, as it is his duty. The blood of his homeland flows in his veins. He aspires to be a soldier and grow into a brave and courageous son who will make the glory of Uzbekistan a legendary tale.
Agenda rule
Before you speak to someone, think about the pros and cons of each word. If I say these words or statements to this person, will he not be disappointed? Analyze the words you want to say over and over again.
Because: "Tongue has no bone". Only after you know that the message you heard is true and that the person who said it is right, convey it to someone.
Because it comes to a person's head through the language of kulfat. Try to be polite when you speak.
As much as possible, talk to people you don't like in a nice tone.
Kaykovus says about language in "Qobusnoma":
.... Train your tongue with good skill and do not make a habit of anything but polite words.
Nedinkim, if you teach every word in the language, say this, use the word in its place, if the word is good, but if it is used inappropriately, even though it is a good word it also sounds bad and useless. Therefore, do not talk in vain, it is useless.
Such useless words are harmful and should not be spoken if there is no sense of craft in each word.
Despite her young age, Rayhona Jumaniyazova, who has achieved many achievements, was born on June 21, 2009 in Ellikkala district of the Republic of Karakalpakstan. There are 3 children in her family, family members say that she is different from others. Rayhona has talent in all directions.
As for her achievements, she's a participant of the seminar-training "Child and Youth Friendly Local Government Initiative" organized in cooperation with UNICEF. Young consultants are members of the Ellikkala district council. Her creative work was published in the "Youth of Uzbekistan" anthology organized by Muslima Murodova. In addition, several of her creative works were published in the international "Raven Gage Zine" magazine. Currently, she is the Urganch district coordinator of Golden Wing volunteers.
Afterglow Theorem:
Let 1 equal you and 0 equal the void.
0 + 0 = 0
0 - 0 = 0
0 + 1 = 1
1 + 0 = 1
1 - 0 = 1
1 - 1 = 0
0 - 1 = -1
Q.E.D.
Jazz Warmups:
Tortured yesterday means tortured today
only if you write it.
The more guttural the scream
the more intelligible.
Sam Shepard serving Nina Simone ice cubes
for her scotch: this is my thesis.
Oblivion obscurity christs still air—
everything's a target for revenge.
All heavens are alike
each hell's a hell its own way.
No one notices
a diamond among diamonds.
Splash in some horseshit.
Toro bravo:
I see a pair of ruby lips
I ignite.
My nostrils blast smoke.
I charge.
Hundreds of banderillas
regal me
yet I remain
standing.
Love, please—
if you won’t
deliver the final blow
let me.
Brooks Lindberg lives in the Pacific Northwest. His poems and antipoems appear in various publications. Links to his work can be found at brookslindberg.com.
The Singer in the Café
She stood, a tall half-child, thin as a breath,
a face as white as a cloud at noon,
a profile cut from polished shell.
I saw there was something strange in her eyes.
She bent over her guitar’s neck,
carefully picked out a form of sound
in which she placed her voice as far
as nearness is when love is found.
It was as though she had lost nothing.
Polite,
she did not insist. She offered free
what she had found in the warm night:
a thing as small as it was bright
in the forgotten light of her desire,
a shy truth tempered in
a dark fire.
At the end, she bowed, smiling radiantly
toward the rising waters of applause,
then, bending down, after a quiet pause,
from the floor, raised her white cane carefully.
Footprints in the Sand
On the rumpled beach
two perfect prints
where a little girl briefly stood,
with a hint of defiance
in the angle
of the delicate hollows
perfectly delineated among diminutive dunes
smeared like sandy paint
with a palette knife.
And then she dashed away.
But Robinson missed his Friday,
and I kick myself for my typical absent-mindedness.
They would have made a perfect photograph,
those small prints on the beach:
a poetic composition
rich with symbolic meaning
to frame and hang above a mantle
or in a discreet hallway.
But the only camera I brought
is the one that darkens this page.
I smell clam shells, ozone, wood fires.
I see beachcombers like scattered crumbs,
the evening turn the sun into woven glass.
And kick myself again
as I am immersed in the shadows of the night.
And I imagine her say,
that young girl where she pauses,
or perhaps she just thinks it:
How far does the horizon go
beyond the edge of the sea?
There, there I’ll go! . . .
before jetting off in her madcap
dash across the sand.
_____
Christopher Bernard is an award-winning poet, novelist and essayist. His collection The Socialist’s Garden of Verses won a PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award and was named one of the “Top Indie Books of 2021” by Kirkus Reviews.
In the realm where science meets the sky, Where numbers dance and theories fly, Metrology stands, a guide so true, To measure the world in shades of blue.
It charts the stars, the time, the space, With precision and a steady grace, From quantum realms to cosmic light, It seeks to capture the infinite’s might.
In every tick of time’s own hand, In every grain of shifting sand, Metrology’s lens, so sharp and clear, Unveils the truths that we hold dear.
It measures moments, wide and small, From towering heights to the ocean’s fall, With instruments of steel and gold, It tells the tales that science tells.
From temperature’s rise to pressure’s fall, It gauges the earth, the sea, the sky’s enthrall, In labs and fields, its quest unfolds, The universe’s secrets, in its grasp, it holds.
With every gauge and every scale, It weaves a tapestry that never fails, To bridge the gap from thought to fact, In a world where precision is an unbroken pact.
So here’s to metrology, so wise and grand, With its compass guiding every hand, In the dance of data, it leads the way, Unraveling mysteries, day by day.
Tohirova Husnora Nurillo qizi was born on November 14, 2003, in Parkent district of Tashkent region. She is a third-year student at the Tashkent Textile and Light Industry Institute. She is a member of the XDP party, a leader of the Youth Academy, the author of 10 articles and theses, a winner of the “Golden Pen Award 2024,” and a recipient of the “M.A. Xadjinova Scholarship.”
To be or not to be
Harry: Hey guys, did you hear what happened? They say people have locked themselves in their houses because of something called a virus.
Larry: Hmm, such a strange way to avoid us. I thought they just moved.
Bob: Perhaps they got too bored and decided to take an extended vacation inside their houses. I would also do this if I had houses.
Harry: Okay, enough about people. Let's discuss what we will do with this junk. There, there's a piece of pizza on the floor. Anyone hungry?
Larry: No, thanks. I recently had a hearty lunch of leftover sandwiches. But what about building yourself a “cockroach empire” here?
Bob: The idea makes sense. We can create our own state, where every cockroach will have the right to free food and housing.
Harry: Yes, and we can force all the grasshoppers to give us massages and the flies to clean up after us. This is what I mean by comfort!
Larry: What about our flag? We can make it from broken plates and broken tables.
Bob: Yeah, and our anthem will be heard from the noise we make as we trudge through the cafeteria. "Ta-ta-ta-crawling empire! Ta-ta-ta-crawling empire!"
Harry: Oh yeah, that sounds like a plan! And when we rule the world, we will forbid everyone to hide from us under our feet. Now we will rule over them!
Larry: And all our decisions will be made according to the cockroach principle. If at least two of us like something, then it will be the law!
Bob: And finally, we will announce the day when we will gather all the cockroaches in the world under our rule, and then we will finally be able to say that we are the true leaders of this planet!
Harry: Yes, we will be great and terrible! We will... um... some cockroaches with world-wide ambitions!
Olin: Hey guys, you won't believe what I just found out!
Harry: Well, what did you find out, Olin?
Olin: Humanity has disappeared!
Bob: What? Disappeared? Like this?
Olin: I've searched the entire kitchen, and there's not a single sign of people. They are not there, as if they never existed!
Larry: Good! Now no one will stop us from building our cockroach empire!
Harry: That's right, we're free! Now we can rule over this world as we want!
Olin: What if... what if they come back?
Bob: Let's not think about it. We are here now and we need to enjoy our time!
Harry: Olin, let's have fun! After all our efforts, we got this whole world!
Olin: But think about it, guys. What does this mean for us? We are building our empire on the ruins of human civilization, but what will happen when it faces reality?
Harry: What do you mean, Olin?
Olin: What I mean is that humanity disappeared, leaving behind only a destroyed world. We may inherit their place, but what will we inherit? Their mistakes, their shortcomings, their vices?
Bob: Well, if they disappeared, then they must not have been as perfect as they thought they were. We can do better!
Olin: But what if their disappearance is not just the end, but the beginning of a new era? We have witnessed the end of one civilization, but it is not guaranteed that we will become the architects of a new one.
Larry: You make it sound like it has some deep meaning, Olin. We are just cockroaches, what contribution can we make?
Olin: We can become memory keepers. We can study human history to avoid their mistakes. We can create a new world based on respect for nature, solidarity and wisdom.
Harry: But how can we do this? We're just cockroaches, crazy creatures running around on the floor.
Olin: Hey guys, have you ever thought about the meaning of our lives?
Harry: Of course, Olin. I always ask myself this question when I see a slice of pizza that I want to eat.
Larry: And I think about the meaning of life when I'm climbing walls and trying to find a new shelter.
Bob: I prefer to consider the question of the meaning of life while lying on my back and looking at the ceiling. Especially when it's covered in my footprints.
Harry: Maybe you should all shut up, I'm trying to think!
Larry: So what, you always have to think? Nobody cares about your thoughts, Harry!
Bob: Come on guys, calm down. We all need to cooperate to survive in this world.
Olin: Yes, idiots! Why can't you just work together like normal cockroaches?
Harry: Who are you to tell me, Olin? Do you think you're the best?
Larry: Calm down, Harry, you're not the only one here who has something to say!
Bob: Are we really going to have to listen to this circus every day? We must find a way to resolve our differences peacefully.
Olin: You're right, Bob. We're all in this together. Let's learn to respect each other and seek compromises.
Harry: Okay, maybe I went too far. Sorry guys. Let's look at all the options and choose the best course of action.
Larry: Yes, sorry, Harry. Let's make our cooperation more harmonious.
Bob: Great, guys. Now that we are on the same page again, let's find a way out of this situation together.
Harry: Hey guys, let's play a game of "Who said it?"
Larry: Cool idea! I am the first! "I've never eaten lunch out of a trash can."
Bob: It's Olin! He's always so picky with food.
Olin: Wrong, guys! It's you, Larry! Do you remember when you tried dumpster pizza last month?
Larry: Oh yeah, exactly! Okay, it's your turn. Who is next?
Harry: You know what, guys, I think it's time for us to end this game. The game is already starting to get boring.
Larry: I agree, Harry. This game is becoming more and more predictable.
Bob: Yes, and I'm no longer interested in guessing who said what. Maybe we should come up with something else for fun?
Olin: I completely agree. Let's come up with something new and exciting. We don't want to be bored, right?
Harry: Hey guys, what if I told you something? You'll never guess what it will be.
Larry: Well, Harry, let's hear your unexpected story.
Harry: You know, actually... We're all actually mice!
Bob: What?! This is impossible, Harry! We're cockroaches!
Olin: Wait, guys, maybe he's right. I remembered how I once accidentally found a bag of cheese and couldn’t figure out where it came from...
Harry: And so, I noticed that we all have tails and big ears, and we all run around in the dark so often...
Larry: But... but what about all our adventures and conversations? It can not be true!
Bob: What if this is all just part of our collective hallucination? We might just be rodents in a laboratory!
Olin: Anything is possible, guys... Damn, what's all the noise? Is there a cat sneaking here?
Director: Hello guys. Glad to see all of you.
Harry: Oh, hi John. What's happening?
Director: Well, I have to tell you something a little strange... Remember when we started experimenting with a new way of rendering characters?
Larry: Yes, of course. But what does this have to do with us?
Director: Well, you see, we used it on all of you.
Bob: What? So, we... we're not real cockroaches?
Director: Of course, all of you are real actors. And the performance was so realistic that I forgot that you were playing the roles of cockroaches.
Olin: So what is this place? We were sure that this was our refuge.
Director: Actually, it's a scene. We built it specifically. And all of you have been used here for many years in our productions.
Harry: So we were on stage the whole time?
Director: Exactly. And I must say that you played your roles perfectly, Harry.
Larry: It's... it's a little strange, but also surprising at the same time.
Bob: So all our adventures, our struggle to survive... it was all just part of the show?
Director: Right. And I want to say that you all did a great job, Bob. Your acting was so realistic that even I began to believe that you were cockroaches.
Olin: Well, it was still a fun study in the end.
Director: So, what do you think, do you want to continue playing your roles or maybe move on to something new?
The cockroaches exchanged glances before one of them replied with a smile:
Harry: Let's continue playing. But this time, let's add even more drama and action. I am confident that we will be able to impress the audience even more.
Director: Wonderful! Then let's start rehearsing the new act. And remember, now the adventure is just beginning!
