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). So far photographer Rebecca Kelly and English/Spanish bilingual poet Bridgett Rex are part of the lineup and more are welcome! This event is also a benefit for the grassroots Afghan women-led group RAWA, which is currently supporting educational and income generation and literacy projects in Afghanistan 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 Sunday, December 31st, 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 for event reminders. RSVP appreciated but not required.

This month’s issue concerns our positions within time and space, sometimes pulling us deeper within our own psyches and intimate relationships and at other times drawing us outward into a broader universe, or simply destabilizing our normal perspectives. Join us as we venture Within and Without.

Niles Reddick’s dramatic pieces highlight the danger and mystery hidden within everyday life. Bill Tope’s piece illuminates the fluidity and risks of young people’s lives and travels during the American 1960s.

Helena Jiang explores how our mental states color our perceptions by taking us outside on a bicycle ride through the eyes of a grieving boy and out on a sailing ship through the eyes of an artist.

Sheila Henry illustrates the visceral experience of depression to encourage empathy for those who endure mental health struggles. Alma Ryan dramatizes anticipatory grief for the loss of a person who cares, but cannot truly understand her.

Thoreau famously claimed that many men live lives of quiet desperation. Returning poet J.J. Campbell must surely be among them, as his speakers seek to dull their souls as their hopes drift away.

Ari Nystrom-Rice illustrates the journey of a person facing intractable damnation.

Filip Zubatov tells us to stop lying to ourselves and set goals and take action and make the most of our lives. Jerry Langdon comments on the brevity of life with solar mythology as a metaphor and reminds us to tell our loved ones we care while we are still here.

Taylor Dibbert reflects on how many people only seek marital counseling when it’s too late. Kristy Raines looks back on romantic love and on life’s ups and downs from a mature perspective.

Abdurazokova Murad urges parents to set down their phones and pay attention to the growth and education of their children and also reminds us to make the most of the limited lives ahead of us. Bakhora Bakhtiyorova speaks to wise, balanced parenting while at the same time encouraging all people, especially young people, to seize the day and achieve their goals.

Sabrina Ishmurotova’s poignant poem illustrates a young girl’s longing for her lost father. Mokhinur Askarova speculates on who would miss her if she disappeared. Faleeha Hassan’s speaker remembers a complicated relationship with her mother, where love commingled with grief.

Boqijonova Madinabonu reflects on the love of family and how mothers are often the glue that holds families together, even after children grow up and move out.

Qodirova Madinabonu Mirzamaxmud praises the care and guidance of teachers in her poem of respect to them, while Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa reminds us of the innocent wisdom of children who have not yet learned prejudices.

Annie Johnson evokes love that is both spiritual and interpersonal in her poetry, which celebrates the light and joy of Christmas.

A. Iwasa reviews the second issue of Signal, A Journal of International Political Graphics and Culture and concludes that the magazine holds wisdom from a variety of political and philosophical traditions.

Hauwa Jibrin cries out in anguish at war and brokenness in his country while Santiago Burdon expresses his support for the Palestinian people to find peace and self-determination. Aklima Ankhi celebrates the independence of her homeland of Bangladesh and shares her hope for peace in the world and freedom for all its people. Mahbub joins her in rejoicing in his home nation’s birthday, taking pride in his country’s founding as a victorious struggle of formerly oppressed people.

Daniel De Culla reminds us that the shiny veneer of the holiday season is not enough to cover over systemic injustice and brutalities, including religious leaders’ sweeping child sexual abuse under the rug.

Noah Berlatsky calls out the financially exploitative nature of practices within the writing world and the struggle of many for just a chance to be seen.

John Mellender’s poem speculates on the true nature of courage, what gives us the strength, or foolhardiness, to throw our bodies against the iron bars of life’s injustices.

Mesfakus Salahin’s tale concerns a clever boy determined to keep honest and preserve his self-respect. Sayani Mukherjee speaks to remaining near the light of truth, even if you are alone with a small candle.

Stephen Nwankwo expresses his determined hope for the future of his country.

Bill Tope’s second story highlights the struggles of many young women to be believed and understood after sexual assault. Set during a time just a few decades in America’s past, the story shows an otherwise loving and caring mother who wants to empower her daughter, yet has her generational blind spots.

Isabel Gomes de Diego’s photography of children sightseeing in the city is tinged with wonder and joy, encouraging all of us to glimpse the world through fresh eyes.

Daniel De Culla’s images highlights juxtapositions, disparities and conjunctions within environments both natural and human-built.

Phil Demise Smith’s graphic novel chronicles and halts the movement of time and how it organizes chaos into a series of moments, the present.

Brian Michael Barbeito’s poems capture lush natural and seasonal environments: the sea, fields in spring and trees in autumn, in language both atmospheric and philosophical. In a similar, but more personified and romanticized, vein, Sreya Sarkar renders snowflakes into ballerinas that distract the sky and a lost thoroughfare.

Brian Michael Barbeito’s artwork aims to capture the spirits of places, both extreme closeups and panoramic vistas that incorporate nature and human construction and pose the question of how exactly we define “place.”

Don Bormon conveys the endurance and sturdiness of trees, both physically and ecologically as the backbone of so many ecosystems.

Texas Fontanella’s visual art connects a dizzying expansive explosion of angle and shape and color.

Z.I. Mahmud outlines ways in which the technical craft of cinematography affects the visual impact of storytelling in movies. Steven Mayoff probes the similarities and differences between writing prose and song lyrics.

J.D. Nelson brings more of his signature ‘graf’ poetry, with one liners stringing together images and sounds like a garland.

Grant Guy’s visual poetry melds Morse code, squiggles and graphics, absurdist humor, and oddly placed inspirational messages. Mark Young’s work juxtaposes varying units of sense into pieces that, oddly, flow together.

We hope the same is true of this issue, and we wish you a very happy holiday season.

Ishmurotova Sabrina Sarvar qizi

A little girl who missed her daddy

She is a child, but there is no childhood,
There are no exuberances, no masculinity.
Her heart hurts so much
A little girl who missed her dad .
Seeing her mother secretly crying
Her heart troubles again.
She can't tell anyone about her suffering
A little girl who missed her dad.

Hugging her dad's pictures
"I miss you dad", - she says.
A girl who didn't see mercy from Father
Why does she miss him so much? 

A little girl of six-year-old 
Listening to her longings, you say: "Ohhh!"
O, people, tell me what is going on
Listening to it, you will be feeble.

There are so many tiny hearts in the world
I don't know, how many at the moment.
But, a girl who missed her daddy
Don't cry from longing anymore
One day, you will be very happy 

In Support of the Palestinian People 

I have been receiving some rather vexatious comments from people I know casually through Social Media. I have been unfriended by many due to my position concerning the Palestinian and the Israeli Zionist conflict that has recently culminated into an atrocious and horrific war. Once again exemplifying the inhumane treatment humans are capable of inflicting upon their fellow man. It seems my position supporting the Palestinian people and detesting the persecution they have been subjected to since the illegal occupation of Arab and Palestinian homes, farms and businesses by Jews, has angered them. Israel has inflicted horrendous acts against the Palestinian people for over 70 years. 

Appears the United Nations appropriated Real Estate they didn’t own. The British Mandate supported by the United Nations and advocated by the United States allocated land area to Zionist leaders for settlement 1917. Later amended to accommodate WWII Jewish refugees. 

This Mandate granting property to the Jewish people extended rights of land ownership despite the property being owned and lived upon in some instances for generations of Arab and Palestinian families . They never took into consideration the legal rights of the Palestinian land owners. Prior to the British annexation of the territory it was part of the Ottoman Empire. An astonishing fact is the people were treated humanely and were extended all the rights of every other Ottoman citizen. Not so under Israeli occupation. 

In 1948 Israel declared independence demanding to be recognized as an independent nation by the United Nations. 30 countries voted against the declaration but it passed anyway. No longer would Israel recognize the conditions of the British Mandate. 

Soon after the new government implemented laws discriminating against Palestinians. The land allocated by the United Nations wasn’t large enough to support the immigration of millions of Jewish refugees. Israel determined it was entitled to areas inhabited by thousands of Arab and Palestinian people. The military quickly attacked Palestinians living in those areas with Israel forcefully confiscating the land. Over 726,000 Palestinians were evicted from their homes and thousands more were massacred. That was the start of Israel’s solution to living in harmony with other people in the region as they had proclaimed. 

Since then Israel has adopted the practice of Apartheid. Their main objective during over 70 years of occupation is the genocide of the Palestinian people. Here’s Amnesty International’s report of their investigation into Israel’s actions. 

Israel’s atrocities and injustice against Palestinians: Cruel system of domination and crime against humanity

Amnesty International has analyzed Israel’s intent to create and maintain a system of oppression and domination over Palestinians and examined its key components: territorial fragmentation; segregation and control; dispossession of land and property; and denial of economic and social rights. It has concluded that this system amounts to apartheid. Israel must dismantle this cruel system and the international community must pressure it to do so. All those with jurisdiction over the crimes committed to maintain the system should investigate them.

February 2020

Israel’s apartheid against Palestinians: Cruel system of domination and crime against humanity

The Israeli persecution of Palestinians is extensive and too many to list. 

Let me tell you, if my home was taken from me, evicted from my homeland, tortured, my people murdered and every other crime possible was levied against me, I would have no qualms about picking up a weapon and rage against Israel. Maybe I’m the one that should unfriend those of you advocating Israel’s atrocious treatment of Palestinian men, women and innocent children. 

I’m unable to understand and far from accepting anyone’s support of Israel. Either you are an evil and sadistic person or just an uninformed. And if those descriptions aren’t accurate then I deduce that you’re just an ignorant idiot. 

The Passage of Time 

Long vanished the ancient cold, 
The song of the wolves, distant 
Howling through the downy flakes 
Drifting o’er rooftops and curling 
From chimneys grown cold. 
Time glows like a banked fire 
Against the cold of eons past 
Aching bones of lost love 
Waiting in time to dance again. 
Wilted the love posies given 
By wooers besotted and forlorn 
In the heydays of their passion 
Never to hear sweet promises 
Polished, refurbished and stored 
In the heart-shaped boxes of time 
Or wear the locks of hair in lockets 
Of long dead lovers, sworn 
To vows impossible to keep 
Past the eons of their courtship. 
Old are the dreams, forgotten 
The glory of laughter and youth 
To be lived as the wind whispers 
Beneath the waves of thunder, 
Grumbles into the caves of love, 
Absorbed by the echoing walls.
Longing dies but lives in memories 
Bursting forth in the glory of sunsets, 
Waking on the sunbeams of morning, 
And sleeping in the dust, tracked 
Through the temples of timeless love.



Sacred Freedom 

It’s the soul that is touched by space and time 
And the heart that breaks to poignant rhyme. 
A King can feel like a prisoner within his castle halls, 
While the soul of the dungeon inmate soars beyond his walls. 
Circumstance is what you make of your surroundings 
A castle can be a fortress wherein fancy sings 
Or a prison where only despair is given wings. 
Each step is sacred that you walk in a free land 
Thank God for freedom to choose where you stand. 



Christmas Sonnet 

This, our first Christmas, brings me such delights! 
You are all the gifts I ever dreamed of; 
Every Christmas tree trimmed with sparkling lights; 
Every star on top symbolizing love. 
You're every kiss beneath the mistletoe; 
Every turkey, yeast roll and candied yam; 
The angels I made lying in the snow; 
You're my gingerbread man, my honeyed ham! 
You’re every Christmas Carol I have sung; 
You’re reindeer, Santa Claus and candlelight; 
All the stockings filled I carefully hung; 
You’re the sleigh bells imagined on Christmas Night. 
You’re the glowing fireplace on Christmas Eve - 
All the cookies and milk I used to leave.

 
Sacred Silhouette 

Yours is the sacred silhouette outlined 
Between me and the LIGHT of Creation – 
The deep voice of love from outer space 
Reaching me from the corridors of time; 
The pulsating heart of constancy 
Beating for me in echoing waves 
Of unforgettable love, caught 
In the beauty of thought and desire 
To hold the night in each other's arms. 
Your love touches every cell of my being. 
You are the glow in the mist of morning; 
The chirping cricket on the threshold 
Of love’s open doorway to paradise. 
You are evening’s quiet reverie 
Enhancing my belief in a loving God. 
You are the quiet breath of falling dew; 
The glow of lilies in the moonlight. 
You are a thousand fireflies lit by my desire 
To know the tenderness of your ways. 
You’re the taste of moonlight on my skin; 
My silent steps on the path of yearning 
As I walk in the sacred shadow of stars 
Seeking your soul in love’s rocking cradle 
Suspended from the limb of infinity. 

Annie Johnson is 84 years old. She is Shawnee Native American. She has published two, six hundred-page novels and six books of poetry. Annie has won several poetry awards from world poetry organizations including; World Union of Poets; she is a member of World Nations Writers Union; has received the World Institute for Peace award; the World Laureate of Literature from World Nations Writers Union and The William Shakespeare Poetry Award. She received a Certificate and Medal in recognition of the highest literature from International Literary Union for the year 2020, from Ayad Al Baldawi, President of the International Literary Union. She has three children, two grandchildren, and two sons-in-law. Annie played a flute in the Butler University Symphony. She still plays her flute.

Measurement of life according to the scribes

All of us have been granted the invaluable gift of life by the Almighty. Each person must decide how to use it. You should expect to experience
a variety of difficulties throughout your life pathways. We ought to make to the most of the possibilities that are given to us. Life shouldn’t be wasted on pointless things. Every second that goes by is an integral aspect of human existence.
It will be a witness to a person’s gain or loss on the Day of Judgment. Therefore, a Muslim should manage his time like a savvy businessman.
I have no issue with advising all scientific students to read ‘’The Value of Time in the Eyes of
Scholars’’ in order to be able to manage their time wisely and utilize it efficiently.
This book exhorts the reader to seize each moment as it comes. When a genius rests,
They rehash what they have written and the information they had learned since they were so absorbed in what they were doing.
Time is not a fabric that can be created; rather, it is an opportunity that comes along only once.
‘’Each day that begins calls out: ‘O son of man, I am a new day, I am a witness of your deeds,
Take advantage of me. If I pass away, I will not return until the Day of Resurrection, ‘’remarked
Hasan Basriy, may God have mercy on him.
Time is precious.

Marjona Murad’s daughter Abdurazokova. On July 1, 2007, she was born in the Tashkent region. She is currently a ninth-grade general secondary school student. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
a glorious death
 

mice in the attic

where is the hole

 

here comes the

nightmares at

three in the

morning

 

lucid dreams of

a glorious death

but you can't help

but wonder if you

are jack ruby instead

 

sixty years later

and no one wants

the truth

 

what if our own lives

are a conspiracy

 

that would make

as much sense as

god or the big bang

theory being on every

channel known to man

 

otis redding is on

the radio now

 

a little slice of the truth

---------------------------------------------------------
face the world alone
 

first hard freeze

 

winter will soon

be here

 

it gets harder

every year to

face the world

alone

 

the songs get

sadder

 

the days move

along at a snail's

pace

 

you don't have

the guts for the

shotgun in the

corner

 

or the brains to

get yourself out

of this situation

 

determined to

simply run out

the clock

 

a red x for every

remaining day

--------------------------------------------------------
the entire bottle
 

everyone ordered

a fruity wine

 

i asked for the

strongest bottle

of liquor they

had

 

the entire bottle sir?

 

you see what

these clowns

are drinking

 

yes, the entire bottle

 

they wanted a light

evening to go over

quarterly notes

 

i wanted to be

either dead or

somewhere else

 

110 proof with

a glass of ice

 

i had no interest

in the glass

 

there was a reason

i enjoyed working

remotely so damn

much

-------------------------------------------------------------------
to see the trees
 

the leaves are

changing colors

 

summer trying

to hang on

 

of course, it will

probably snow

next week

 

i can remember

going miles and

miles as a child

to see the trees

 

now, just go on

youtube and watch

a few videos

 

the way we are

destroying the

earth

 

those videos might

be the only way the

future generations

will understand what

we once had

------------------------------------------------------
struggling to find a meal
 

swimming in treacherous

waters

 

another warm day in

early november

 

leaves piling up

on the streets

 

stray cats struggling

to find a meal

 

the last love of my life

has said goodbye and

the shotgun in the corner

gets more appealing by

the day

 

a misunderstanding

becomes the edge

of a knife

 

hope is the last dancer

for the night

 

you ever wonder why

the tornado spared a

place like this

 

apparently, mother nature

also knows how to work

a pole


J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is stuck in the suburbs, wondering where all the lonely housewives have gone. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Dumpster Fire Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Asylum Floor and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

A Baby

A baby knows no race

A baby knows no scent

A baby knows no cloth

A baby knows no ideas

A baby knows a warm lap

A baby knows warm embrace

A baby knows a gentle hum

A baby knows what love is

A baby knows any language

A baby knows contentment

A baby knows peaceful sleep

A baby knows beautiful dream

A baby knows a heart that’s true

When have we stopped being a baby,

Stopped knowing what matters?

When have we stopped feeling,

Stopped having a baby’s wisdom?

Don’t Be Afraid

Summer nights, cool breeze flows to caress

Moon and stars hidden above the trees

Darkness hid the shadows of life

Eyes blindfolded not by silky scarf

Don’t be afraid of the absence of the sun

Summer nights when stars are hidden above

Where is North, where is the Perseus god?

No torch to guide one’s stumbling on a path

No flames of bonfire crackling to give one warmth

Don’t be afraid with the feeling of being lost

Summer nights stranger alone and young

A child scared of the unknown night sounds

Yet twinkling lights were seen flying near and free

Fireflies are so gentle to keep you company

Don’t be afraid, you’re never alone even in the dark

Don’t be afraid though your eyes seem blind

Don’t be afraid though you feel lost and cold

Don’t be afraid of being alone in the dark

You are never alone, just wait and believe

Don’t be afraid, you are protected. Don’t you see?

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.