Godless Libraries

“Our duty is manifest,” Greg intoned, peering down through the bright lights and into the seats which were filled with members of Citizens Concerned for Children; this was yet another right wing group that he coveted. 

He hoped to recruit them in his unrelenting quest to ban virtually all books from school libraries.  The crowd shouted its approval.   Greg smiled.  He was happily in his element.

Greg, Governor of his state, held up his hands for quiet only halfheartedly; he adored adulation from the unwashed masses.  

“Do you know what your children are reading?” he boomed out ominously. He held up a book–“Rubyfruit Jungle”– and the crowd booed on cue.  In back of the room, Fox News filmed the address. Sean Hannity provided a running commentary.

Taking up the volume, Greg ripped it into two pieces, then cast it to the floor, where it landed with a loud splat, which echoed throughout the huge hall.

The audience went “ooh,” at the Governor’s display of outrage and pure physical strength.

“Here’s another one we don’t need,” he declared, holding up “Beloved,” to the hisses and catcalls from those assembled.

Clutching the book over his head, he ripped the book in two.  The cloud politely applauded, duly impressed. 

Unknown to the audience, Greg had had the books’ spines broken prior to the meeting.

He said, “We want to get rid of “The Bluest Eye” and “A Catcher in the Rye” and “Huckleberry Finn” and “The Hate U Give,” and “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”

With each successive declaration the crowd’s excitement grew.

“Do you know what the presence of these books in the library leads to?” he asked.

Someone shouted out, ” Black Lives Matters!” Another yelled, “Critical Race Theory!” Greg nodded somberly in agreement with each shouted statement. “It means,” he said gravely, “godlessness!”

The crowd was in a frenzy now, excited almost beyond even Greg’s expectations. “Are you with me, then?” he demanded.

“Yes!” shouted the audience and four hundred fists were thrust righteously into the air.

“All right then,” said the Governor, cuing a queue of young men who fanned out across the room.  “I’m going to ask you good folks for a love offering,  These funds will be used to finance the campaigns of candidates who agree with you, that these godless books should be removed from our libraries.  Please give generously.

As the boys avidly gleaned the riches from the assemblage, Greg appeared to grow thoughtful, leaned into the mic and said, “And tomorrow, we’ll talk about restoring prayer to our classrooms.  We’ve got a Constitution to safeguard, people!”

The Town Fool

Bob never stays at home
He never wanted to be alone
In the street corner with lively tone,
Dancing with pointed hat like a gnome
You have odd jobs you want to be done,
And your lazy hubby's out of town
Just call Bob, he will not let you down
Don't give Bob money, or he'll be gone
Bob loves cookies and hot chocolate,
Surely your groceries won't be late! 
Once a stranger used it as a bait, 
And poor Bob met a violent fate
The whole town went into great uproar
No one believed, for Bob, such horror
Stranger caught, he's seriously beaten
Even judge didn't think twas bad thing
Why the fury? He's just the town fool.
Getting all worked up, they're just ain't cool! 
Bob may seem to you just a fool,
But he's well-loved by all the people


Women Empowerment 

W isdom gathered through blood and tears
O bligations done with loving smiles not fears
M arriage is a bonus and not a necessity 
E ngaging in any desired opportunity 
N urturing the family, society, human community 

E nvironmental awareness for rehabilitation
M otherhood deserves honor and protection
P eace and prosperity is her deepest ambition 
O utspoken yet meekness of the soul makes sense
W omen encompass the balance of existence 
E nvisioned future without its chaotic norms
R ejuvenate nature in its realistic forms
M en can be stronger with women as equals
E mpowered without barbaric rituals
N ations will have survival chance to course
T ruth be told, women can be your salvation or curse.


Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry. 

Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.

Silence

Quiet… the vastness strides with a silent pace,

whispers await, in secrecy.

Stars tremble, awaiting the sanctity’s blaze,

before the waves, hush your voice silently.

It is a wave of silence deep,

human echoes yearning behind him.

In sacred cup, where secrets repose,

unspoken words strive to redeem.

Chaos whispered in the silence,

guard… eternity and transience struggle.

Inkiness is seeking my compliance,

redemption screams, growing vaster.

Silent plea! May peace resurrect .

let wrath shatter in the hush of light.

In the mirror of dusk, hopes reflect,

in the soft twilight’s tender might.

The beginning and the end! Glory to them,

let the chant sing like a sparkling lullaby,

like mother’s face that you can’t forget,

Prayer chants with the endless sky.

Glory to silence, herald of grace,

it waves shattered strands.

In enchanting depth, like a distant glance,

where last shall be first and first shall be last.

                       Storm

A storm is brewing, in the heart chaos reigns,

Noise dances wild everywhere,

The vessel, delight for timeless wanderer,

Is gliding to my soul carrying an embrace.

A depth of grief in the vast expanse,

without its shield, tears veil the path,

Sorrow emboldens the army of darkness,

captive of tears has no more tears left.

The past, a blade to the stumbling heart,

lifts the veil upon the soul’s capture,

tears are ticking away fast,

none can endure, a silent rapture.

I’m an exile of the infernal mill,

redeemed by majestic grandeur,

before the emperor’s crown… I stand still

it shines marvelous in its splendor

Unnamed song

At the limen of time,

I stand as a stranger

Here, might doesn’t intertwine

soul is a tireless passenger.

We need light, glow of glances,

human heart forgiveness,

we’re yearning a sip of repose,

seeking solace in the stillness.

Weary of darkness, we seek dawn,

I seek those eyes, precious of mine,

woken from the dead, seeking the forgotten

shadow beside me, companion of time.

Though sawn wood whispers time’s embrace,

each grain a tale, a memory traced.

Moments linger like echoes,

In the music of a rhyme as eternity grows. 

Ana Petrovic was born on 05.02.1985 in Serbia, where she currently lives. She wrote a book of poems, but it is not yet published She finished medical school, VI degree. Many songs of hers are published in magazines and portals. Some of them are translated into English. She has been working on special programs with kids who have paralysis cerebralis. She likes working with kids as much as she likes poetry.

We continue to express sorrow over what’s happening in so many different parts of the world and encourage our readers to support people and the planet.

Also, we are hosting our Metamorphosis gathering again! This is a chance for people to share music, art, and writing and to dialogue across different generations (hence the name, the concept of ideas morphing and changing over the years). This event is also a benefit for the grassroots Afghan women-led group RAWA, which is organized by women in Afghanistan who are currently supporting educational and income generation and literacy projects in their home county as well as assisting earthquake survivors. (We don’t charge or process the cash, you are free to donate online on your own and then attend!)

This will be Saturday April 6th, 2-4 pm in the fellowship hall of Davis Lutheran Church at 317 East 8th Street in Davis, California. It’s a nonreligious event open to all, the church has graciously allowed us to use the meeting room. You may sign up here on Eventbrite.

Also, we encourage everyone in the California area to attend the third annual Hayward Lit Hop on Saturday, April 27th. This is a public festival with different readings from different groups throughout downtown Hayward coinciding with Hayward’s choosing a new adult poet laureate, culminating in an afterparty at Hayward’s Odd Fellows Lounge. Several Synchronized Chaos contributors will read from their work at the 2024 Lit Hop.

Now for the March 2024 issue, Literary Devices. This issue explores what we can accomplish with language. The written and spoken and signed word can be a force for education, communication, dignity, connection among people, and pride and artistry. Language is also a way to render the indescribable through metaphor or fragmented text and leave something behind on the historical record.

Maurizio Brancaleoni reflects on human history as if it were akin to fossils, engraved within stone. S. Rupsha Mitra’s poetry collection Smoked Frames, reviewed here by Cristina Deptula, dramatizes the search for one’s truest self within psychology, cultural and family history, and radical self-understanding.

On a more personal level, John Edward Culp celebrates the anticipatory joy of the first tentative flight of new love. Kristy Raines writes of the emotional union and connection of romance.

Graciela Noemi Villaverde evokes dreamy flights of fancy, memory and imagination. Borna Kekic reminisces about his old haunts and watching movies with his teenage friends.

Duane Vorhees presents a poetic and historical record that chronicles the slow dissolution of a relationship while Taylor Dibbert’s poem reflects on the stages of the inevitable dissolution of a marriage and Elmaya Jabbarova speaks to a keenly felt grief, an absence that’s like a presence.

Saidakbar Ibrohim’s essay focuses on Uzbek poet G’afur G’ulom, Yahya Azeroglu’s work chronicles Azerbaijani literary and cultural history and pride while Z.I. Mahmud analyzes the literary and poetic qualities of Rabinadranath Tagore and Anita Desai’s poetry and prose.

Munisa Azimova offers up praise for the legacy of Uzbek poet Alisher Navoi and Bakhara Shodmonqulova shows respect for her heritage and language while Janglish Khasanova describes efforts to collect and publish the works of young Uzbek writers today. Mohichehra Rustamova’s essay highlights the love of her parents and the beauty and wisdom of her country’s literary heritage. Jacques Fleury celebrates part of Black global literary history through his review of Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, which tells the story of a Black woman’s journey towards self-realization independent of society’s emphasis on upward mobility and respectability.

Gulyora Hashimjonova offers up a memory of connection between herself and her father out in nature in their Uzbek homeland. Don Bormon celebrates humans and nature in his elegant piece on life in a city park while Mahbub Alam illustrates the cycles of nature, the trees changing colors, Annie Johnson contributes gentle poems about love and the slow sunrise and J.K. Durick offers up various takes on human and natural history and questions our level of control over shaping our world. Noel Pratt reflects on nature and on our smallness and relative lack of influence over such a large and eternal world. J.D. Nelson draws on haiku, the traditional Japanese form often used to depict glimpses of the beauty of nature, to craft vignettes about embracing ordinary life, even when plans are interrupted. Doug Hawley’s humorous short pieces illuminate human life and human nature and highlight the importance and ingrained nature of our instinct to narrate life through story.

Christopher Bernard reviews Cal Performances’ recent production of Pina Bausch’s take on Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, a show grounded in connection to the cycles of the earth.

Durdona Roxmatullayeva writes of the isolation and harshness but also the natural quality of heartbreak, metaphorically represented by the season of winter, while Zarnigor Ubaydullayeva extols the beauty of spring, kindness, and maturity. Mesfakus Salahin laments large scale damage to the earth and the world’s ecosystems.

Isabel Gomez de Diego photographs large tractors on parade in front of historic buildings, showing off the interdependence of agriculture and industry.

Marjona Asadova hopes for national Uzbek pride and world peace through universal recognition of human dignity. Maja Milojkovic’s poetry concerns our ethical aspirations, encouraging us to summit the heights of becoming more decent and caring human beings.

Dusan Stojkovic speaks to the role of poetry in teaching people to navigate life and relationships while Mykyta Ryzhykh highlights the psychological effects of dehumanization and cheapening of life, human and nonhuman.

Set within middle America, Bill Tope’s story looks at how we find closeness to each other, while Stephen Jarrell Williams’s poetry explores where and how we find solace, together or alone.

Anna Petrovic’s poems navigate the landscape of intense human feeling. Sa’ad Ali’s ekphrastic poems evoking the sensibility of lesser known works by famous artists. Iduoze Abdulhafiz probes the psychology of people’s dreamlike subconscious while Joshua Martin scatters letters and punctuation on the page in concrete poetry and Clive Gresswell’s pieces offer up ruminations in rhythmical streams of consciousness while Mark Young connects fragments of thought using technology and Jim Meirose explores the experience of falling through experimental words and text. Patrick Sweeney’s one-line poems are at once familiar and exotic, esoteric and mundane.

Makfiratkhon Abdurakhmonova extols the virtues and possibility of the land of sleep. Sayani Mukherjee‘s poetry concerns a dreamtime encounter with the divine world beyond herself while Madinabonu Bobobekova offers up a dreamy meditation on getting into the headspace to write.

Emeniano Acain Somoza compares the human heart navigating life to the performance of a juggling clown.

Ayanda Dlanga’s horror piece on fear and pursuit from a monster at night could be a metaphor for growing up too quickly. Safarmurod Yuldoshev speaks to the distribution of phytonematodes in Uzbekistan’s crops in his scientific essay, illustrating how nature can be menacing as well as welcoming. Jerry Langdon speaks to the physical and psychological horrors waiting for and threatening our souls, while Daniel De Culla addresses external political oppression through his poetic dramatization of a corrupt and self important Argentine leader.

J.J. Campbell contributes fatalistic poetry about a suffocating small town while Shahrizoda Bekturdieva raises awareness of domestic violence in a variety of locales. Mirta Liliana Ramirez writes of finding her own voice and speaking up for herself and others who were wronged, while Shamisya Khudoynazarova Turumnova addresses the pain associated with shattering a person’s reputation and Ilhomova Mokhichera reflects on the inexplicability of heartbreak.

Roberta Beach Jacobson’s poems are of awkwardness, not fitting in life, while Kelly Moyer’s work represents the self-described fantasy of finally being noticed and heard. Faleeha Hassan links war and violence to the human survival instinct, stemming from a desperate and human need to be heard and validated.

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa addresses our freedom of choice, between good and evil or simply between different life paths. Nahyean Bin Khalid gives us the beginning of a good versus evil action tale while Gulsanam Qurbonova praises the value of continual knowledge and self-education and Azamqulova Shahina Jonibekovna talks about upbringing, education, and development as a person while Madina Fayzullaeva outlines the intellectual and personal core competencies needed to teach foreign language and Mavludaxon Moydinova’s essay describes language and word formation in the Uzbek language. Sarvinoz Mamadaliyeva outlines and celebrates educational opportunities available to young Uzbeks at Namangan State Pedagogical University.

Adhamova Laylo Akmaljon gives us an essay on achieving goals and making the most of life. Zinnira Maxammadiyeva talks about making the most of life by investing in yourself and studying as Gulsevar Xojamova urges her fellow Uzbeks to pursue education and personal responsibility.

Shahnoza Ochildiyeva presents her pathway to success as a strong and creative Uzbek girl, while Orzigul Sherova offers up her praise of science and research and learning and knowledge. Guli Jonuzoqova describes the value of education, especially for women, while Nurmanatova Aigul’s metaphorical conversational piece concerns moving forward into the future.

Ravshanbek Nasulloyev describes techniques for enhancing one’s learning and everyday skills with a foreign language while Gulyora highlights the importance of cross cultural understanding in useful business communication.

Unlike many who bemoan people’s isolation due to too much screen time, Wazed Abdullah celebrates the connective power of mobile phone technology. Marguba Lapasova describes advances in modern payment technology while Maftuna Umaraliyeva explores how the modern tourism industry has incorporated or expanded upon traditional codes of hospitality.

Shakhnoza Ulashova argues for enhancing justice in Uzbekistan by providing Uzbeks with representation in all sorts of legal proceedings.

Umid Qodir’s poem asserts the value and dignity of poetry in advancing human understanding while Jullayeva Sitora Ismailnova highlights how the true heart of a poet should tend towards empathy and compassion.

Nosirova Gavhar speaks to her devotion in her faith while Brian Barbeito offers up sketches of people who are humble yet wise.

We at Synchronized Chaos Magazine, aspire to be humble, yet wise.

The song “Wherever I Fall,” from the 2021 movie Cyrano, directed by Joe Wright, shares the experiences of soldiers who believe they will likely die soon, yet express to their families and loved ones that they are happy with how they are living their lives, given the power and the choices available to them. We hope that Synchronized Chaos embodies that ethic, that we and our contributors and our readers are making the most of all of our lives within what is available to us.

Wait

If I lose my heart to the snow of winter,
Close my eyes and bear it,
Even if I hang myself, it’s the medicine of love.
I will think of you forever
I will tell the sky about my pain.
Spring does not come to my garden anymore,
To my cheerful lips, as if laughter did not run,
My arms are filled with empty hopes,
But I will think of you forever
I will tell my dream to the star.
If you didn’t exist, I wouldn’t see you
My heart did not burn with pain,
I don’t even know what I want.
I will remember your two worlds,
At night, I’m having a hard time.
Even though my eyes are full of youth,
It’s bad if everyone calls me you
Only you, one side of you,
I look forward,
I will watch your ways...

Rakhmatullayeva Durdona Muhiddin’s daughter was born on April 9, 2004. Currently, the National University of Uzbekistan named after Mirzo Ulugbek has completed the 1st stage.
Achievements: winner of many science Olympiads and quiz participant. In the future: Professional family psychologist.

SHOULDERS THAT LIFT ME UP

The icy breeze of the morning hitting my face and the pouring rain outside prompted me to get up. I opened my eyes to find out where the cold was coming from: the window was left open. I was thinking for a while, then I remembered that I had to go to school, so I jumped up. After hastily eating breakfast, Ayam took out my white boots, which I brought from the market with my father last week.

- It's cold outside, the streets are muddy. Dress warmer, he said. And I:
"No, no, it's going to get dirty, I'll go in my shoes," I protested. But inside I wanted to wear my boots and praise them to my friends. At that moment, my grandmother told my father:

- My son, if not, take my grandson to the asphalt road.
Dad gestured as if to say "let's go" and we went out together. Then my father bent down, and I slowly climbed out behind him. As we walked down the muddy street, I kept my eyes on my white boots as I hugged my father's neck.

I still remember the traces left by my father on the October rain and muddy street that day. I will never forget the love of my mountain that day...

The Blood Wedding of the Earth

common ground(s)

The Rite of Spring

Cal Performances

Zellerbach Hall

When Stravinsky composed Le sacre de printemps, and Nijinsky first choreographed it, for a notorious Paris premiere served with a heavy helping of riot and hysterics, one would be forgiven for guessing that things African were hanging in the air at the time. After all, Picasso had for years been inspired by the masks of Africa in drawings, sculpture and paintings such as Les demoiselles d’Avignon, already famous, and the cubism that commanded much of the Parisian artworld had deeply African roots.

But who would have guessed it would take until the 2020s, by way of a brilliantly original German choreographer and her adventurous son, in tandem with a Senegalese dance school and an echt-British performance company, to, at last, fully manifest the profound Africanness of one of the anchoring works of European modernism?

Well, sometimes even this world rises to justice. And the inspired synthesis of Stravinsky’s controlled howl, Pina Bausch’s relentless choreography, and the brave and brilliant talents of 38 young dancers from 14 African countries was made fully and bracingly manifest in Berkeley, thanks to Cal Performances, over a recent mid-February weekend.

Pina Bausch originally choreographed the piece on her own company, Tanztheater Wuppertal, in 1975, and anyone who saw Wim Wenders’ seminal film Pina will remember the triumphant work of her dancers. But seeing the same moves on the bodies of African dancers feels so apt, so right, it seems astonishing no one has done it before now.

The visceral, chthonic thrill of the piece is impossible to capture on page or screen without tearing both to pieces and rearranging the fragments into a vital and dazzling chaos that begins in sleep and ends in a death whose colossal significance is the resurrection of the earth itself. At the heart of the piece, we are in a pre-verbal world of ritual, fear, and hope, a dramatic myth whose logic is that of life itself, hinging as it does on death for it to be born at all.

The celebrated Senegalese dancer and teacher Germaine Acogny, who appeared in the accompanying piece common ground(s), is quoted in the program notes as saying, “When I first saw Pina’s Rite of Spring, I felt it was an African rite.” She goes on to say she was impressed by how many of the moves within the dance reminded her of those native to African dance, and the entire aura of the work feels intimately African “because it is something universal.”

The piece is fundamentally a group effort; there are no solos as such until the very end, when the Chosen One (an exquisitely vulnerable Khadija Cisse) dances for long agonizingly suspenseful minutes as she seems literally to dance herself to death before our eyes – it is the one conclusion to Le sacre this viewer has seen in which I believed the dancer might this time actually expire at the end.

Other standouts included a princess who effortlessly led the young women, Shelly Ohene-Nyako, and a king-in-waiting, Bazoumana Kouyaté, who dominated among the men. But the sharp coordination of the dancers as a group in a piece that flirts with chaos in the only way that works artistically – by keeping it under complete control – was a truly strange thrill to behold. Full justice was done to Bausch’s conception, if what I recall from Wenders’ film, which, sadly, was filmed just after Bausch’s death, was a fair expression of it. For me, this performance was the crowning of a work of unique artistic power.

The production, from the Pina Bausch Foundation, the École des Sables, of Senegal (and co-founded by Germaine Acogny), and Sadler’s Wells of London, and the program of which it is a part, was initiated by Foundation chair Salomon Bausch as part of a “transmission project” to keep alive and relevant the work of Pina Bausch after her untimely death in 2009. Its planned premiere in 2020 at the Théâtre National Daniel Serano in Dakar was canceled due to the pandemic, but it refused to be kept down, and was finally premiered two years later and came to the United States recently on a tour that began in New York and ended in Berkeley.

A side note about the production: following Bausch’s original conception, the dance was performed on a layer of peat that had to be spread by a small army of stagehands across a large tarpaulin laid out across the stage during intermission. It came from Canada and had to be carried from city to city throughout the tour. It is an essential part of the dance: by the end of the work, the dancers are partly covered by it in a sign of their marriage to the earth and its perpetual cycle of life and death: it is both life ritual and death ritual, wedding and funeral, a digging of graves and the cradling of a child.

The first half of the program included a piece for two female dancers: common ground(s), performed by two legends, the afore-mentioned Germaine Acogny and a dancer who worked with Bausch at the beginning of the latter’s career, Malou Airaudo. The work was a simple but profound meditation on female friendship and the life of women. The senior dancers make no pretense to virtuosity, but instead emphasize their wisdom, maturity and groundedness in the daily and annual cycles of life and growth. At one point they speak, in French and English, before returning to the wordless eloquence of dance and the rites of daily life. The music was by Fabrice Bouillon LaForest, performed on strings and keyboard but evoking the sounds of Africa and the earth, cicadas, winged creatures, and animals in the night. It was a work of peace only to be broken by the eruption of spring.

_____

Christopher Bernard is an award-winning poet, novelist and essayist. His most recent books are the first stories in the “Otherwise” series for middle-grade readers: If You Ride A Crooked Trolley . . . and The Judgment of Biestia.