A POSTCARD FROM PERU Yerbabuena We pass a young boy herding four yearlings. They startle at our engine’s grind, the glare of headlights, the shrill horn. In the dawn twilight, other trucks and combis are pulling up. Their passengers climb down, heavy bundles and baskets over shoulders, and enter the market yard. The Sunday market in Yerbabuena is one of the largest in the region—and one of the few traditional trueque (bartering) markets that still exists. Folks have come from the many small villages and hamlets in this Utcubamba River valley, between Leymebamba and Chachapoyas. Tarps are being stretched over rickety wooden stands. Offered wares are set out: horse tackle and ropes, sandals and slingshots (for hunting) made of old tires, produce from highlands and low. Wood fires in the comedores spice the growing morning. Soon the bustling hustle is on. One woman offers half a saddlebag of corn for plantains. Yonder, a family is their calf. All around people are trading pottery for produce from a chakra (small farm), or well-bundled kindling for a trussed chicken (no doubt, this afternoon’s almuerzo). I have nothing to trade—but soles (the local currency) are accepted for the bread and avocados I buy before hopping a truck towards the Revash ruins. IN THE FRIGID NIGHT 18-19 March 1994 / Oaxaca to Mexico City (El Oaxaqueño / 2ª class) I awaken at about 4:30 a.m. Our train is winding deep within the folds of the Sierra Madre. This night is frigid. I dig out my sleeping bag. A father in one seat holds two of his small children tight. They wear only light cotton shirts. They might be migrating from the warmer lowlands – from Tapachula on the Guatemalan border, or perhaps from the Tehuantepec isthmus. On the floor across the aisle, the mother shares their only blanket with the two younger children. I unzip my sleeping bag open and hand it to them for the night. Father smiles and folds it around his son and daughter. Soon they fall asleep. I put on another shirt and button up my jacket. Huddled within my seat, I watch the night silently slip by. SUNSET JOURNEY Across & across miles & miles of flat, dry-green savannah, the land rolling towards dark-treed mountains dressed in clouds, blue crystalline sky brushed with nebulous white, sunlight sheening off rivers graveled tresses braiding. Shadows sink deeper, rose perfumes periwinkle clouds, the setting sun honeys the grasses & trees of these flat, rolling sabanas, scattered settlements gather like the foothills, like the cumulus over that now-nearer sierra. Climbing through three lo-o-ong tunnels & finally into a high valley, pallid indigo sky stippled with clouds, the mountains covered with low brush, dwarf trees, cacti, bare rock folded, twisted, tilted by the millennia … all lost in the dusk. Lorraine Caputo is a wandering troubadour whose writings appear in over 400 journals on six continents, and 23 collections – including In the Jaguar Valley (dancing girl press, 2023) and Santa Marta Ayres (Origami Poems Project, 2024). She also authors travel narratives, articles and guidebooks. Her writing has been honored by the Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada (2011) and thrice nominated for the Best of the Net. Caputo has done literary readings from Alaska to the Patagonia. She journeys through Latin America with her faithful knapsack Rocinante, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth. Follow her adventures at www.facebook.com/lorrainecaputo.wanderer or http://latinamericawanderer.wordpress.com.
Category Archives: CHAOS
Poetry from Orzogul Gofurova (needs to be May 1)
Mommy My kind and my heaven, My angel are only you. In family you are queen, No happiness without you. You love us equally always, You are the best mother. You have the best kindness, And you love the best father. I tend to miss you every time, Whenever I am far from you. Not loving you is a crime, Because the best one is you!
Poetry from Brian Barbeito
It was Hot Like Summer and the Demons Ran Deep, or Not in This Life Anyways the rains had arrived when there was supposed to be snow, and the fields became beige and flaxen again, and the world was strange and stayed that way. it was as if it had longed to be strange and present that part of its personality that nobody cared about. and now that it had gotten the chance, it wasn’t going to give it up. for many days and nights the precipitation continued. an old solitary hawk that lived somewhere near or perhaps on the top of the movie-house came down and alighted atop a No Trespassing sign. a dirty sad area, who would want to trespass there anyhow? I watched the beautiful hawk as it looked for something, here and there a bit like you look for where you put your keys down right?- found it, jumped down, seeming to let itself fall down more so than jump, having just jumped into the air I felt, retrieved the thing, and left. later I had seen a few souls, two in person and two in vision, that presented well enough, but which I felt were possessed. I have a soft spot for the aged, the idea of the old man w/his sweater and perhaps book or cane even, hard fought sagacity as it were…but not these ones. whatever had taken up residence in them, if I was right, (you always have to leave room for the idea of being wrong), had really done a number on their souls. I was sad and always a bit startled at this. let them be for it was not my responsibility and besides,- these people wouldn’t only not change, but would defend their ideas to the end. pride. arrogance. one day that end would come, but that was up to the Whole, the Universe, God, whatever nomenclature or moniker one chose or that was in fashion. the rain was rain for the high temperature. if you went near a window or outside it actually felt warm and sometimes hot. back by the way of the hawk again, I glanced to see if my old friend who was not my real friend was around. nothing though. no hawk today. sometimes there is nothing but the rain. Brian Michael Barbeito is a Canadian writer and photographer. Prose poem and landscape photo book, Still Some Crazy Summer Wind Coming Through, is forthcoming from Dark Winter Literary Press, summer 2024.
Poetry from Tuyet Van Do
black cavities outside the hospital empty corpses compliance ... cries for help getting louder burning flames outside the embassy a soldier protesting blood-stained gown behind the window a gasping doctor ceasefire ... a man in the rubble collecting body parts
Poetry from Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna
SOMETIMES Sometimes time rejects me Sometimes I deny it. There are still contradictions, contradictions, I'm running away... Sometimes protected by a long sentence, One word and three points more meaningful. Sometimes hidden in little verses, The meaning of great sayings. Sometimes it is not explained by silence The thick darkness of speaking And sometimes... In the light of a darkened Conscience The greatness of time is clearly visible... (Translated into English by: Elmaya Jabbarova. 20.04.2024.) Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna (February 15, 1973) was born in Uzbekistan. Studied at the Faculty of Journalism of Tashkent State University (1992-1998). She took first place in the competition of young republican poets (1999). Four collections of poems have been published in Uzbekistan: “Leaf of the Heart” (1998), “Roads to You” (1998), “The Sky in My Chest” (2007), “Lovely Melodies” (2013). She wrote poetry in more than ten genres. She translated some Russian and Turkish poets into Uzbek, as well as a book by Yunus Emro. She lived as a political immigrant with her family for five years in Turkey and five years in Ukraine. Currently lives in Switzerland. Married, mother of five children. It was not possible to publish poems and translations written by the poet in the next ten years.
Essay from Botirali Sayifov
Education and its importance
Education is the transfer of knowledge to a person, thereby developing intellectual, affective and moral abilities. That is, it is not only related to the study of didactic knowledge, which allows to perform various tasks with more or less skill. The possibilities in education are endless. It’s not about focusing all your energy on one point or limiting your abilities.
The first thing that strikes me about education is the knowledge gained. Education informs us about the world around us and at the same time changes the world for the better. It develops and nurtures our perspective on life. It helps us to form thoughts and have visions around us in life. It doesn’t just mean giving us book knowledge, but painting, singing, painting, manners, etc. provides different knowledge about different skills like.
With the increase in population, people’s needs are also increasing. Therefore, there are many firms that require a large number of employees to increase productivity. In this case, it is necessary to acquire knowledge and develop healthy competition among others
Education is mainly important for children because they are the future of the world and they need to be updated with current knowledge. They are truly pillars of the nation. To develop the country and the world, it is necessary to secure the future and children with all their knowledge and skills are the right tools to build the nation. Children stand out from all issues as future leaders for the development of the nation; therefore each and every child should be educated.
There are many different concepts and definitions of what education is, but one thing that can be generally accepted is the importance of education and the reasons for it.
Provides stability
Education provides stability in life and is something that no one can ever take away from you. By getting a good education and a degree, you increase your chances of getting better career opportunities and open new doors for yourself.
Provides financial security
In addition to stability, education also provides financial security, especially in today’s society. A good education leads to a high-paying job.
Ensures equality
For the world to be truly equal, it must begin with education. If everyone was given the same opportunities for education, the gap between social classes would be smaller. Everyone can have an equal chance at high-paying jobs.
Provides independence
An educated person will never be dependent on the opinion of others. He will have his own personal opinion.
Makes dreams come true
If you can dream it, you can achieve it. Education is the most powerful weapon you can have and with it you can make all your dreams come true.
Provides security
Education is not only necessary on a personal level but also on a global scale as it is what keeps our world safe and makes it a more peaceful place. Education teaches people the difference between right and wrong and helps people avoid dangerous situations.
Confidence
Self-confidence is an important part of being successful in life. And what better way to gain that confidence than through education? Your education level is often a way to prove your knowledge and it can give you the confidence to speak your mind and voice your opinion.
Education makes a person a part of society.
In today’s society, getting an education is an important part of being accepted by the people around you. Getting an education makes you a useful part of society and helps you feel like a contributing member.
Provides economic growth at the national level
An educated person is very important for the economic growth of the society. In order for us to be constantly innovating, people need to keep learning and exploring. Economic situation also improves in countries with high literacy rate. If the population is educated, jobs will expand.
Poetry from Muslima Murodova (needs to stay May 1st)
Immaculate sky Wide and clear, It's always sunny. You can't stop looking Immaculate sky. Birds decorate the day, Star gazing at night. The moon shines Our eyes are happy. House of snow and rain Cloud's favorite. The heart of the peasants, Ascending beacon. The stars are kind, It shines every moment. Likes for humans A crescent moon in the sky. When you are happy, when you are sad, You can watch and enjoy. Forget your troubles You will reach your goal. Murodova Muslima Kadyrovna was born on June 29, 2010 in Jondar district of Bukhara region. Currently, she is a 7th grade student of school No. 30 in this district. Her first poem was published in 2024 under the name "Come beautiful spring". Winner of many achievements. She won the 2nd place at the festival held in the district. She won the 1st place in the district stage and the 2nd place in the regional stage of the "Bakhtim Shul: Zulfiyasiman Uzbek" contest. Her first anthology was published by the UK publisher Justfiction Edition.