*** gold fish and the sun is gone *** father is looking for fish among the scales *** here is a flower sleeping and no one knows what a morning hurricane is *** the taste of coffee fades to the tip of the tongue the thick of time is braided into the morning shabby hair *** night sensors go off scale the bride covered in blood is happy and smiling bed full of tender flesh the moon is full of light the stars are naked and bashful was published in Pulsar Poetry Webzine *** black flower braided into white braids was published in Password *** children's town no one to fix the toy was published in Password *** birds without beaks ask for a drink was published in Password *** my imaginary finger shoots into the temple was published in Password *** death vector math lesson finished was published in Password *** i want to die be a hyacinth was published in Password *** We slept with you in the crack of a cut hand Not a single air bothered us with its presence All clouds and trees were covered with a veil of nakedness The weapon itself also hid in the anal slits, apparently there it belongs Finally you raised your finger up and I realized that I was dreaming I wake up in the silence of the graveyard hidden under the bed I wake up I sleep I fall asleep I invent your finger Thrice tied to the lord I come up with a finger I teach my brain to live again was published in Pulsar Poetry Webzine *** I love the stone for the fact that he is steadfastly silent I don't like people because they die little birds kiss the glass of the universe the world is a torn book in the hands of a child was published in Perceptions Magazine *** the sky eats birds on the horizon the bird shrinks to the size of a dot the sun shines like a question mark what will happen next? was published in Perceptions Magazine *** the snow is back the bird is looking for a home among the old newspapers was published in Perceptions Magazine *** spring thunder in the belly of nature nature is our mother was published in Perceptions Magazine *** Unborn Jesus cries because he will not be crucified was published in Perceptions Magazine *** orange joy in the snow small trees are shivering in the cold small children die in a warm bed was published in Perceptions Magazine
Category Archives: CHAOS
Poetry from Anindya Pal
Beyond the time Summer hasn't quite arrived yet Monsoon has come along hidden path clouds are coming down the cleavage aroma of love... God curses the eyes lust covered in smoothie blood However, the lips continued to climb the stairs of wet faith... Self-decay is never immortal When carnival of tears end at the burnt seedbed Western birds peck their beaks In the womb of the world... Strangulating the earth wants to touch the sky fosters hideous hunger for love in the sinkhole of time as the flowers of first-kiss dry up, shame flinders to pieces In the clean crownest...
Short story from Muslima Murodova
Warm bread
Once upon a time, there was a woman named Nora. He had 2 children, one of them was Anwar and the other was Sanobar. The respect of the son and daughter for their mother was boundless.
One day Aunt Nora fell ill. The son was the breadwinner of the family. The daughter looked after her mother all day and sewed a dress. His mother wanted to eat something, but he could not describe what it was. One day distant relatives came to see him. He brought hot bread along with hot soup. Aunt Nora seemed to feel a surge of power as soon as the visitor entered the door. Then he found out that there was hot bread in the knot brought by the guest. He ate a piece of bread and his mood rose. He took care of the guest himself and even recovered.
The next day, in the evening, he was sitting at the table with his children. Then his son said to him:
- Mother asked how you got better by eating plain warm bread. And Aunt Nora:
- My son has a long history of this. I was young. One day my heel ran away. Even then something was eating me, but I never knew what it was. In those days, finding flour was a problem. But my father found flour for me and told my mother to bake bread for me. My mother wrapped hot bread for me. It was when you tried to eat the bread. It was not like other breads at all. I found out the reason later. He could taste the love of my parents. I scolded them in such a way that they were surprised. Since then I have not been sick at all. This happened again. Hot bread could fix me in this too. So, my parents knew about my illness. Therefore, God himself sent me our relative.
You see, my children, there is so much wisdom in simple warm bread - he said and hugged his children.
Her children listened to their mother's story. They also look at their mother:
"You know, mother, when we are sick, we can eat your hot bread and get well," they made her mother happy even more. Since then, Aunt Nora has never been sick.
Dear reader, through this fairy tale, I explained to you the power of the simple bread baked by your mother. So never waste bread. After all, children in some countries are forced to live for a simple bread. Draw conclusions for yourself in the fairy tale!
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.
Poetry from J.D. Nelson
Six Untitled Monostichs door north immediate corn — a perfect jangle a mirrored stew — moose availability bee & me — crimson criss wicket frosty chafe — iron lake tangible irony trigger — tranquil orbital delphic jonquil — bio/graf J. D. Nelson is the author of eleven print chapbooks and e-books of poetry, including *purgatorio* (wlovolw, 2024). 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 Boulder, Colorado, USA.
Story from Nahyean Taronno
Echoes of Ravenswood
Part 1: The Invitation
Ravenswood was a small town surrounded by thick woods. It was a quiet place with a lot of stories about ghosts and mysterious disappearances. Most people didn’t believe these stories, but one legend still scared everyone: the legend of the Blackburn Mansion.
On a cool October evening, four friends—Emily, Jake, Sarah, and David—met at Emily’s house. They had been friends since kindergarten, and now, in their final year of high school, they wanted to have an unforgettable Halloween. They wanted something different, something exciting, something scary.
“Let’s spend the night at Blackburn Mansion,” Jake suggested with a mischievous grin.
The idea made everyone excited but also nervous. The mansion had been empty for decades since the Blackburn family disappeared mysteriously. People said it was haunted, with lights flickering in the windows and strange sounds coming from inside.
“Are you crazy? That place is cursed,” Sarah said, though she looked curious.
“Come on, Sarah, don’t be scared. It’s just a story. We’ll go, check it out, and leave before midnight. It’ll be fun,” Jake encouraged.
After some convincing, they all agreed. They packed flashlights, snacks, and an Ouija board, mostly as a joke. As the sun set, they walked through the forest, the path lit only by the pale light of the full moon.
The mansion stood before them, its once-beautiful face now falling apart and covered in ivy. The iron gates creaked open as they pushed through, and the air grew colder as they walked to the front door. Jake pushed the door open, and they stepped inside.
The inside was dark and dusty, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and broken furniture everywhere. The air felt heavy, like the walls were holding the memories of old horrors. Even though they tried to be brave, the friends felt a chill run down their spines.
They explored the ground floor, finding only empty rooms and old furniture. Then, they decided to set up their camp in the grand hall. The high ceiling and fancy chandeliers showed how grand the mansion used to be.
“Let’s try the Ouija board,” Emily suggested, her voice shaking a little.
They sat in a circle, placing the board on the floor and each putting a finger on the planchette. The room was silent, except for the occasional creak of the old house.
“Is anyone here?” Jake asked, his voice echoing.
At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the planchette began to move. They looked at each other, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Who’s doing that?” David asked, his voice nervous.
“It’s not me,” Emily whispered.
The planchette kept moving, spelling out a single word: “LEAVE.”
A sudden gust of wind blew through the hall, putting out their candles and leaving them in darkness. They panicked, fumbling for their flashlights. When they turned them on, they saw with horror that the doors had shut themselves, trapping them inside.
“We need to get out of here,” Sarah said, her voice shaking.
They ran to the door, but it wouldn’t open. It felt like an invisible force was holding it shut. They tried the windows, but they were all sealed tight.
“Let’s stick together and find another way out,” Jake suggested, trying to stay calm.
They moved deeper into the mansion, the air getting colder with each step. The hallways twisted and turned, leading them in circles. They passed by portraits of the Blackburn family, the eyes in the paintings seeming to follow them.
Then, they heard a soft whisper, growing louder. It seemed to come from the walls, sounding evil.
“Did you hear that?” Emily asked, her face pale.
Before anyone could answer, the ground shifted beneath them, and they fell into darkness.
Nahyean Taronno is a student of grade eight in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Story from Yuldashev Jumanazar Muradjanovich
PETRICHOR
Jumanazar Yuldash
‘I beg you, please never leave me alone…’
He unintentionally whispered as he held his wife’s hands both firmly and in a kindly way, and he rubbed them on his eyes. Having heard this crying-like exclamation the patient who used to be groaning a minute before regained consciousness. She caressed hair of her husband who was kindly kissing and rubbing her hand on his forehead.
‘Oh how can I quit you, my madman?’
The man who went into ecstasy of seeing his wife’s consciousness automatically kissed her forehead.
‘Just recently doctor was here. He said that you would not wake up in a short time. However, thanks to my God, my prayers seem to be reached to him’.
A weak smile appeared on the pale face of woman. Afterwards for some reason she sighed and army of thoughts conquered her mind.
‘You… never ask for my recovery’ she said utilizing all strength she possessed.
‘Why you are uttering these words?’ the man shocked.
‘Because… I do not know why but for some reason God does not gave us what we asked for but the very opposite one. For instance, now you absolutely want me to live but maybe until tomorrow I will have been perished and fairies will be dancing around my spirit in the heavens’.
‘What should I do then? See, you are in a bad situation and I simply cannot keep calm without paying attention. At least I must pray for your sake’.
‘You would better… ask for my death’.
The situation was really uncomfortable for the husband and even it cannot be described with the help of words unless the reader have been in a such situation. Inclining his head, he was completely dumbfounded by the last utterance. From his condition it was possible to know that he was imagining his life alone. Finally, he managed to say a word:
‘Do not repeat this anymore…’
Apparently, woman suddenly realized that she started talking about unhappiness, therefore she did all her best to explain what was the real meaning of her words.
‘I assume that you misunderstood me. I do not choose passing away, contrarily, I want to live, only to live happily with you, my lover, and I can imagine my future in the dim: you and I shall hand-in-hand go to forest after the rain to collect mushrooms, with a wide smile in our faces. Yes, I can see the very scene! Yes!
A light, tired but happy smile appeared on her pale white face which had been revived a bit but still showing traces of illness. With the most sudden and hopeful gaze she stared outside the window. Due to the fact that her place was inconvenient to look outside, she intended to see the view standing up on her feet. Unfortunately, hands of her husband did not let her move.
‘Please, look at the window. Haven’t it rained recently?’
‘It haven’t rained since you are in bed. Why are you asking?’
‘Honestly, I wish it was raining right now and we could go to collect mushrooms together. But I don’t know the reason. Give me a word, please, shall we go to the forest when I recover from illness?’
‘I promise you, darling. We will go as soon as you are well, but please, get over your illness as soon as possible. Your contemporary condition is the most unbelievable pain for me, darling’.
‘Why you are always being pessimistic, as I said you, I will never let you stay in this world alone. It is not my fate. Let us change the theme, I don’t know why but I am really eager to converse with you’.
Now for the first time a couple of loving hearts felt the initial sweetness of ecstatic moments after surviving prolonged days of misfortune and these moments seemed not to come to an end forever. While dreaming about endless delight a man always lets his painful breath out unintentionally; the whole world, especially, his lovely friends look very gorgeous to his eyes and at that time he will be ready to do anything for his friends.
Now the husband was staring at his wife with the same happy and positive gaze that he suddenly realized it was impossible to stop himself from expressing his feelings.
‘A conversation?’ he questioned holding her hands firmly. ‘Darling, if only you had known that not only conversing with you, but deserving your attention also is the biggest joy for me. Oh, if only you had known that, dear!’
He put palm of his woman on his chest as if he was intending to let her listen his heart beats. But woman pulled his hand back with a quick act as if she touched the fireplace and stared at him smiling mildly.
Eyes could not help looking at each other’s deepest sides and lovers smiled at the same time.
‘I know, even I know very well and every morning I thank God that I am not a blind one. Do you know why I do so? Because God had not deprived me to see you’.
‘Oh darling… We are extremely happy! Have you ever thought whether there are others who are as much contented as we are? If yes, how many of them exists? Very few or so many in quantity?’
‘To my mind, probably there are not any blissful couple except us’.
They both laughed with joy. Husband stared at somewhere so long. Those who had tasted the real happiness and those who had realized what a magic it is usually dwell in the same way: with a smile in their lips, staring at one particular point as if they are obliged to look at that side forever or like a thinker who aimed to reveal all the secrets hidden in that tiny area of room they gaze. In this period of staring, for sure, others’ opinions on happiness seem very interesting to them.
‘For you what is the happiness itself?’ he asked keeping on staring at the same point.
After a while he accidentally recognized what he had said, so he felt somehow embarrassed from his question.
‘You may consider that question as a ridiculous and childish one. But please, do not be shocked, do not be disappointed from me for giving you this kind of weary question. Simply this question came to my mind and I transformed it to my speech. You do not need to answer it’.
‘No, I answer with all my heart. The only thing surprised me is your embarrassment. Because this question should be asked from everyone. It is the greatest question in this world. I commended it a lot, sorry, now I have to answer to this properly. For me every breathe I take is happiness, my ability to cry, to laugh and to see is the great joy, and in general, my existence is happiness. Everything related to me in this world is delight. Breathing in the fresh air, listening to the song of birds, lying underneath the initial beams of sunlight, watching the flight of beautiful butterflies, smelling lovely perfume of flowers – all things I have mentioned is happiness, I even consider pain and sorrow as a type of joy’. Having finished her speech, woman looked at her partner who was analyzing his thought. At that moment she found herself eligible to repeat this question. ‘So, how would you answer it yourself?’
‘I can only state my answer in short. Your existence and your belonging to me is happiness. Right, I am madly devoted to you, darling. I adore you even though you hate me as you hated the most awful man in the world. Maybe my words seem very simple to you. But I want you to know this: you are second half of me. I cannot be perfect without you’.
Woman broke into laughter unintentionally.
‘You spoke like…’ she said and paused for a while. She understood that continuation of her words would harm her husband’s soul.
‘Like what?’ he asked seriously. His facial expression revealed that he was eager to hear the rest of her speech.
‘You spoke like a fake lover!’
Woman smiled sweetly. Her husband once looked at her and then he aimed his glaze at the window.
‘It is still cloudy…’ he said with a sick voice.
His spouse was still staring at him regretfully. Husband had already realized this, however he went on looking at the window intentionally.
‘Look at me’ said she. And he obeyed. ‘I let you down, I know…’ she held his hands and kissed them. ‘Sorry… Please, forgive me…’
He, as well, replied to his wife by holding her hands.
‘No, I am not upset with you. I never be sad because I am not allowed to be sad’ he smiled to prove his words. ‘Do you know, it was not your words, but my own behavior offended me. My attitude and ridiculous sample-like words seemed to you like an artificial one, so it is my own fault, not yourself. I cannot hide waves of feelings I have. I really want to express all the words I possess in my heart. I want to share all the joy and all the sorrow I have with you. Therefore, I reveal you my secrets’.
‘Forgive me for offending your soul, I am so sorry…’
‘No! Please do not say that feel sorry. I am not allowed to be angry with you. It is sin’. He kept a bit silence. ‘Do you know, God lavished us with a great joy. All we have to do is to deserve this joy and enjoy it. Now imagine, if you carry on quarreling and offending each other without any reason, if we do not stop asking for forgiveness, how God will again bless us? He would be upset from our ungrateful attitude. I am afraid of this… I am afraid of living these happy days no more. I am worried that God might possibly retake what he gave us. If I tell you, I have read a book yesterday. The author of that book was a person who denied the God. A minute, please…’ he quickly stood up and took a book with red cover from the shelf. ‘It consisted of such frustrating things that I shocked while reading. Surely it is written by a murderer of happiness’ he started reading the lines which he highlighted before:
“I cannot spend all my life fearing of Great Creator who supposed to be able to deprive me from happiness I have. I would rather live unhappily or die. God wants us to live in fear. He is an egoist. The best way is to disobey his rules and to pass away” – ‘I cannot read more. These are words of a wicked person who teaches to quit bright side and leads people to the darkness. Can it be really true that people follow him and accept his thoughts? Isn’t it a whole of malice, it is? How this person, whose words stink the smell of secularism and materialism, can be able to someone’s attitude towards the life. God will never punish those who are not grateful of their happiness. God is the most generous one. He only wants to give people all the best things because whoever in this world want to harm his or her own children? He will forgive all of our sins if we understand and feel sorry for what we have done. He will even forgive this atheist author, if he feels really sorry. The greatest sin is to criticize openhanded God. But why he does not understand this?!’
‘Can you give me that book, please?’ suddenly she said.
She took the book handed to her and looked for a while. Flipping through the pages she started to read some pieces of it. The more he read, the more sadness and horror appeared on her face… Having read the last page, she closed the book and whispered something. She passed the book to her husband and turning her head back, said: ‘Let it burn…’
Man gazed at her astonishing, but he did what he ordered: he threw the book away to the fire. It started to burn better. Then he looked back at her. The woman accidentally became apathetic to everything, it was difficult to know exactly where she was looking at or what she was thinking about.
‘What you asked for while whispering?’ he asked. ‘I hope you haven’t asked for the death of author’ he laughed.
Now, hearing this sudden question she gained her consciousness and glared at him seriously. Man felt embarrassed at his weird and unlucky joke.
‘How can you assume that? How do I dare to ask for someone’s death?’
‘No, I was only joking, sorry’.
‘You said that you were not allowed to be upset from me. This rule not only works for you, but also for me. Therefore, no need to say sorry. I asked… I asked from God to forgive this sinner. I think, we don’t have to hate these kind of people. Contrarily, we must feel sorry for them. How cannot you feel sorry for those who failed to find the right path? They resemble to the yellow autumn leaves. If an evening breeze blows a bit, they abandon their branches. The reason why they sink in the ocean of sins is that they have lack of patience and ambition’.
Painful silence filled the room. They both were sadly thinking about something. At first husband recognized that there was inconvenience and found it very annoying.
‘Why we are keeping silent. See, we are happy people. Sadness does not fit us. Why not we cheer up or remember something. Because we are not this kind of individuals. What is the difference between us and unhappy people if we carry on keeping silence?’
‘You are right. We got even much sadder. But these kind of people…’
‘Okay, please, let’s stop discussing them. Because they are not related to our life in any way. Why not we look back on any of our more delightful times which are wort to remember. There is no need to think about this kind of issues while we have lots of sweet memories, I think. On the other hand, the world is getting much darker and darker day by day. All we have to do is to burn and tear up this darkness conquering the world.
‘Yes’ she said smiling.
Her husband did all his best to find any worth-to-remember story they had. It did not take a long time. He found what he wanted but it was not a story they both took part in but he was very impatient to tell her something he had had in her mind for long time. Unfortunately, he had no suitable situation to retell it. Now it was the very right time he wanted so he took his wife’s hands in order to let his words out.
‘Actually, I was going to speak about the funniest moments we had. But now I want to tell you something I was dwelling on for a long period. Do you still remember once we made a trip to mountain? At that time something unknown happened and weather turned bad. So as to find a dry shelter we had climbed up to the shanty on the peak of mountain. A wrinkled old man with grey hair had welcomed us. Even though he was not extremely glad to have guests, he did not seem so sad as well from our visit. He invited us to drop in. He even gave us a cup of tea and to towel to dry ourselves and took his sit in front of fireplace and went on reading a book. While we were sipping tea and conversing with each other he had glanced at us so many times both secretly and openly. When we talked about something interesting, he also had smiled and I think, our conversation was more intriguing than book for him. In order to behave as a polite man, he was pretending himself as if he was not listening to our discussion, however my eyes had recognized it already. For some reason the old man sighed while listening to our nostalgic memories. He put the book and gazed at hearth for a long time. He light of the fire revealed that he was hiding his tear drops on his face. He was whimpering with no sound. (You hadn’t recognized it.) At that time, to be honest, I felt very unusually embarrassed. I felt so sorry for an old man that… I contemplated that my future will duplicate this old man’s fate. Do you believe in seeing one’s future or past on another one’s life? I had seen… Then it ceased to rain. We abandoned his old house expressing our gratitude. I overthought about him. But I had not searched for him until I knew that I had to see him again. I had revisited that are to find him and investigated everywhere we stepped on. Unfortunately, I could find neither him nor his shanty. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell you this…’ – he stared at somewhere for awhile – ‘I… I love you to death!’ As he was going to cry, put his face into the embrace of his wife, – ‘I… I…’ – he could not help himself stop crying, – ‘Why?… Why?’
Early drops of the tear appeared inside the woman’s eyes.
‘It will never happen… Trust me, dear. Because I have told you…’
Suddenly thunderstorm broke out. Thick black clouds veiled the whole sky.
Woman hopefully looked at the window.
‘Look, my dear, it is raining…’
‘Yeah, it is raining’ he also stared hopefully.
They both glared at window for long, until it stopped raining. Despite they both were in tears they were trying to hide it from each other.
It was raining no more.
‘Can you help me stand up?’ she could not do it by herself so she asked for a help.
She went to the door counting on the shoulders of her helper. While walking she looked at her partner. He was trying to hide his eyes for some reason. His eyes were weeping. She paused for a while, wiped his eyes and smiled with sorrow. Then she took her basket.
‘Shall we go?’ she said happily.
‘Let’s go!’ her husband as well said in the same way, forgetting all the pains and tortures of his soul.
Laughing happily, they stepped into the wood spreading dewy petrichor.
2018
Translated from Uzbek into English by Shokhrukh Usmonov
About the author
Jumanazar Yuldash was born in 1997 in the Khiva district, Kharezm, Uzbekistan. He is an undergraduate student of Philology and Uzbek Language faculty at Urgench State University. His stories were published on the pages of national press. His works were included in several collection such as “Song of the Rivers” (“Jilgʻalar qoʻshigʻi”), “Common hearts” (“Mushtarak dillar”), “Garden of Creativity” (“Ijod gulshani”). He is a participant of the Zaamin seminar (2018). Winner of the creative festival “Spring of Uzbekistan II” (“Oʻzbekiston bahori”) in Khiva in 2019. Author of the collection of short stories named “Petrichor” (“Yomgʻirdan soʻng”).
Poetry from Taylor Dibbert
Ghost Town He got on Tinder Thinking there Might be some Awkward moments Or mildly Exciting times, Or things Unfolding in a Notable way But he must Be doing Something wrong Because it Turns out That there’s Not a lot Happening On Tinder, At least Not for him, Who knew That looking For love in The wrong place Could be So uneventful. Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fifth book, was published in May.