+
Anyone of sight with
two directions of hearing
Consider a friendly future
This is about the smiles
we share together
Get it straight
Know the
Works and Hands
that have carried them
Enjoy the Good
Trust
In Good Faith
............
by John Edward Culp
Wednesday
March 6, 2024
Category Archives: CHAOS
Poetry from Mesfakus Salahin
Death, My Confirmed Guest Death, my confirmed guest, Very often I forget you You must come to take me To the land of infinity. I should have to adorn myself With flowers of good deeds To receive you freshly and happily. But l have spent time in vain For nothingness in the wrong track I do not know when you will come But it is constantly true that you must come Everyone can break promise except you You do not cheat with time No one can stop you.
Story from Mashhura Umaraliyeva

In the Summer..
In the summer, Munisa went to a 2-week camp. Her first week at camp was great. At the end of the 2nd week, she began to miss his mother and home. There were many students in the camp. The last day at the camp was planned to be spent in nature. Munisa did not want to go for a walk. She wanted to cry for some reason.
Sometimes he says Munisa has a heart, sometimes she says don’t go. When he didn’t know what to do, a beautiful girl of 7-8 years who came to rest like Munisa suddenly came to her.
––Hello, sister, she said and sat down on Munisa’s couch with her legs stretched out. Munisa did not want to talk to anyone. But for some reason, wanting to talk to her, she simply said:
–– Hi
––Why are you upset? –– said the little girl, and a warm conversation began.
––Just
––Did you hear that we are going to have a picnic?
––Yes, you will go. what is your name
–– Gulinur. don’t you go for a walk?
––…
––Please go, I’m scared myself.
––Oh, what about the others?
–– No, they are not like my mother. And you look like my mother. Your name is also Munisa.. My mother is also Munisa.
Munisa hugged Gulinur and
—You are a little angel,-she said.
Gulinur looked at Munisa and
—My mother is dead,-she said.
Munisa hugged Gulinur tightly. For some reason, she remembered her mother’s rosy face.
The next day, Munisa went for a walk holding Gulinur’s arm…
Winter Haiku from Maurizio Brancaleoni
arriva il freddo: la falena ha trovato casa the cold arrives — the moth has found a home giorni di gelo: tutti gli idioti che temono la morte days of frost — all the idiots that fear death mane d'inverno: un vecchio imbonitore parla di Dio winter morning — an old huckster talks about God sciolto il ghiaccio si forma un'ostinata distesa d'auto frost has melted a stubborn layer of cars forms l'unica cosa che non possono togliermi: pioggia d'inverno the only thing they can't take away from me — winter rain l'anno finisce: nel fosso tra i rifiuti il gatto morto the year ends — in the ditch amid the trash the dead cat Maurizio Brancaleoni is a writer and translator. His poems / haiku / short stories / pastiches have appeared in several journals and collections. He manages "Leisure Spot", a bilingual blog where he posts literary gems, reviews and translations.
Poetry from Nathan Anderson
Impact [white sound] reduction
‘’ ‘’ ‘’ ‘’ ‘’ ‘’ ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’
so
[far]
{{said}}
haemoglobin
!
o
n
t
h
e
NOD
>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<
off the department
*only embarkation is the noun
(and so I dream of a blank page)
//////////////////////////////////////////////
/////////////////////////////////////////////
////////////////////////////////////////////
yet
again
Indifference as the (bell) (hoop) (horn)
&
a n s w e r
…………………………………
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. this as much as turbulence
{not{much{as{this{anymore
{{!
{{0
{{^
{{0
afternoon in the sun
afternoon--=====
after war on the run
after war--=====
and the square sits quietly
and thumbs
it’s nose
■
(thumbs its nose)
Nathan Anderson is a poet from Mongarlowe, Australia. He is the author of numerous books and has had work appear widely both online and in print. You can find him at nathanandersonwriting.home.blog or on Twitter/X/Bluesky @NJApoetry.
Poetry from Jerry Langdon

Special Place There's a special place in Hell, for me. Its streets are built on misery And paved with agony. Now I've tried to live free of sin But life was a game I could never win. I tried to gain Heaven's love, but all in vain For I was already struck by the Devil's bane; Forever my ball and chain. I would find no retreat For on the day I was born I met defeat. He rejoiced as he knew a righteous soul; Sold for a simple lump of coal Would forever pay the toll. And he would not wait Until I stood at his infernal gate. He brought it to me in my crib And would never loosen the grip. So began the trip. The curse placed upon my infant bed Builds that special place when I'm dead. From Southwestern Michigan, Jerry Langdon has lived in Germany since the early 90's. He is an Artist and Poet. His works bathe in a darker side of emotion and fantasy. He has released five books of poetry titled "Temperate Darkness" and "Behind the Twilight Veil", “Death and other cold things” “Rollercoaster Heart” and “Frosted Dreams” Jerry is also the editor and publisher of the literary magazine Raven Cage Zine poetry and prose. His poetic inspirations are derived from poets such as Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As well as from various Rock Bands. His apparently twisted mind, twists and intertwines fantasy with reality.
Essay from Ravshanbekova Asalkhon

After a while, I returned to reading Dostoyevsky again. It’s been a long time. It seems that it has been three years since I read his last work, The Brothers Karamazov. Dostoyevsky’s first work was called “The Poor”. It can also be translated as “poor people”. Throughout his life, he revealed the psychology of the poor better than anyone else in all his works. His characters are not simple, but poor people with extremely high feelings. They are at the same time superior to the rest, and at the same time forced to live a miserable life. Dostoevsky’s philosophy can be described as “humiliated virtue”.
The hero of the story-writer in the work is also a person whose noble feelings are not appreciated, who has not seen the respect he deserves, and is humiliated. Therefore, when he gets money, he wants to increase it, even if it is in a way that people condemn, and he wants to live far away from these people and, most importantly, without hating them. The most beautiful dream for a man, close to human nature, is this: “…to buy land in the outskirts and spend the rest of my life in the mountains, in the vineyards, most importantly – far from you, but without keeping a cake for you, with the highest goal in my heart, with the woman I love from the heart , God willing, to live with my family, without sparing my help from neighbors…”
A young man with this intention is usually looking for a life partner. If he finds it, he will fall in love with it and be ready to throw everything at his feet. There is a difference between the love of young men who wash their hands from society and those who are trying to achieve status in society. For a young man who is envious of property, prestige, and career, a wife is a part of his life, and certain functions are assigned to her. For a young man disillusioned with society, love is at the center of his life.
Masuma’s personality is gradually revealed from such male language. She is 16 years old and like most girls her age, she is stubborn. He tries to “prepare, shape, defeat” him. That was the mistake. Pure and intelligent at the same time; has both high feelings and experienced humiliations; stubborn nature; mentally unstable; it weighs on a teenage girl whose personality is not yet fully formed. The whole work is built on the short life and mental instability of these two characters. Small conclusions can be drawn from the work, but there is no overall idea. In this case, Dostoyevsky did not pour out everything as in his great works, he did not aim for such a big goal, he just depicted two poor people.