Poetry from Darren C. Demaree

Emily as the Predictable Question

Yes, she drew me in

as simply as a breath

& when she breathed

me out I was part

of the derivation 

of Emily, the world

that exists for everyone

else. I miss the before,

when her lungs

were making this me,

but it’s good to be

with you all.

How else could I mourn?

How else could I fight

my way back to her?

Emily as Well-Made Cake

I don’t need to be so modern

as to use plates or utensils or occasion,

I just need her in my mouth.

Emily as Obvious Beauty

Being simple, 

seeing good as a gift,

that re-made me.

Emily as Fifty-Seven Years Later

The frailties will be funny, too.

Death will be hysterical. Jokes we

barely remember, that’s oxygen.

All All #52

Now, now, now is when we sit on top

of America’s chest to see what 

good breath is left. No songs. No strutting

across the mythology of fields

with actual gods we blanketed

to smother. Just the weight of people

& a promise to bring back honey,

to bring back the drowning in honey

to the bee killers. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Poetry from Paul Bavister

A Short Break

A short break, a space to think,
to work things out: his need
for order, her love of silence.
Outside, though the sun was bright,
the wind never stopped. Sand
hissed beneath the cabin door,
gulls skimmed the waves,
small birds flickered into bushes
after night flights over the ocean.
People drifted into the hard light.
Inside, he over-read each word,
he weighed every sentence.
They had never felt so far apart.
Each hesitation filled
with the hiss of the spring wind.
They ate at the kitchen table
while sand sifted over
the wooden floor.
The argument, when it came,
drove them back towards each other –
as if stopping
would be the end of them.

Metal Cabin

The cabin shook with a polar storm.
My son appeared on the laptop
and told me he was lonely
in his new job in the city.
Snow powder hissed
over the metal roof.
I turned up the volume.
He said he went to bars
almost every night
but always sat on his own.
I told him I was scared
of the guys in the control room.
He said he spent too long
in chat rooms
but there was nowhere else
to meet people.
Snow drifts pushed
against the windows.
I said I was always there for him
and when he nodded
I believed he was there for me too.

Technician

It was the first retirement party
I’d ever been to, and even though
they sang his praises, he was

always rude to me. Maybe
he used to be helpful and kind
but to me he was a bully,

resistant, angry. He was mean
about people who’d done nothing
wrong, yet on his last day

everyone had tears in their eyes
and said they would miss him.
Maybe he’d changed. Maybe

work had ground him down.
It’s 45 years later, and my turn
to accept a leaving gift.

My colleagues turn to the buffet
and fill their plates. I’m not sure
if I’ve upset them. I can’t tell

if I’ve changed or stayed the same.


Paul Bavister has published three collections of poetry with Two Rivers Press. His work has appeared in Confluence, Dream Catcher and Smoke. Starlings came highly commended in the Rialto poetry competition.

Poetry from Paul Tristram

A Living Canvas

It just occurred to me,

Life is a living canvas.

Paint your colourful emotions

Brilliantly!

Hermits And Answers

I quit taking the Medication

because it was stifling

the fantastic explosions 

inside my head.

There are now rumbling 

bass strings playing 

when I leopard-stalk 

down the street.

Manic gives the colours 

deeper understanding,

and patterns run the surface 

of almost everything.

Top hats were constructed 

for moods not occasion.

Audio hallucinations 

soundtrack abstract days…

and the shadows 

have minds of their own.

I stopped talking 

to that woman 

for no good reason,

it troubles her enough to frown…

she just reminds me 

of how I used to be,

and I’m far too much 

the fractured gentleman 

to explain.

I’m really not trying 

to annoy you,

merely get around you,

but your questions 

are blocking the way.

I’m not allowed 

to say that anymore…

there is nothing more offensive 

than the truth,

except maybe lies 

told with obvious insincerity. 

Hermits have all the answers,

but are coded 

to keep them to themselves…

some call that selfishness,

whilst I see only wisdom there.

Pastel Pockets Of Warmth

Deep inside her pastel pockets of warmth

I relax into foetal position,

rocking to and fro

contentedly,

rainbow coloured

and teardrop-shaped.

Nerve ends a-tingling and a-buzzing

a soft, humming symphony

of delicate hibernation.

Safe from the purple and black fray,

invasive thoughts and memories

kept in check

by her careful heartstring pulling.

Soul thumb sucking sighs, 

regressing back to neutral, 

a stripping away and cleansing

of the day-to-day unnecessaries.

Life’s batteries on full charge,

mind and action of limb on subtle standby.

I win another soft victory

with each precious moment not tampered with.

My water levels rise again

as to the universal buoyancy I reconnect

to suckle slowly at the nipples core

of an energy which lies

under the curtain hem of understanding.

A Rusty Butterfly

I saw this little butterfly the other day, 

it was so beautiful 

that I just had to stop and watch it 

until it flittered out of view.

It was a kind of powdery white, 

only not a thin, fragile sort,

but a thick, healthy kind, 

and it had rust coloured wings.

I’m serious,

I’ve never seen anything quite like it, 

it was perfectly white (almost too perfect) 

until halfway along the wings 

(that’s right, about there, yeah) 

and then it was a lovely orange, 

rusty colour… 

it was indeed magnificent.

I never thought rust was beautiful before, 

but the next time I see some 

I’m going to stop and venture a look,

and damn it, 

I might well discover something special.

And all because of that little butterfly 

which danced along the grassy verge 

of a busy city street, 

while everyone else refused,

or was too busy, 

to acknowledge its existence, except me.

That Then Led To This Now

A thousand feather-tips

tickling my Soul’s edges, silly.

Contentedness 

almost like drunkenness,

in from the cold 

and stamping my feet

enthusiastically 

upon the welcome

doormat of home.

An appetite fit for a King

and a Head and Heart

filled with a love

almost to the point of bursting.

Taxidermy Bride

In the cobwebbed shadows

of his long hallway

he sat nervously waiting

upon the partially broken

bottom 3rd stair step.

A whistling excitement 

stirred up the dusty leaves

of his delicate, ornate mind.

As he peered downwards

at the Taxidermist’s card

beheld betwixt 

his porcelain slender fingers.

And read quietly to himself

‘Your parcel will be

delivered both promptly

and exactly at one and a half

minutes after 6 o’clock

of the evening’.

He gulped down wonder

and smiled deeply

with his eyes only.

As the grandfather clock

not quite 4ft away

struck the 6th hour

and he heard the grind 

and clatter of his garden gate

yawning open in the distance.

He rose shakily,

and walked towards 

the front door,

each footfall a step further

away from Bachelor.

Rise!

When the self-proclaimed opposition idiot-grin

blindly in falsely supposed victories.

Nothing has your ‘Back’

except either the ‘Rock’ or ‘Hard Place’.

The cowardly gossips cluck

together with whip-cracking tongues.

And the morning’s become 

a solitary obstacle course

of both ‘Mountains’ and ‘Molehills’

to traverse and overcome.

Find Strength in your own Tenacity,

focus ‘Long View/Big Picture’

at the treacherous path ahead.

To Earn and Learn from those Battle Scars

you’ve got to bleed some.

There’s no permanent ruin

in ‘Mistakes Made’, ‘Temporary Failures’

and ‘Wrong Decisions Taken’.

They are merely a Platform 

to receive ‘Lessons Learnt’

and Shine your way through ‘Thick and Thin’.

It’s your Soul’s Determination, Fight 

and Uniqueness that those herds of sheep

are upset and intimidated by…

Ignore their petty, mocking bleats of envy,

Spring your Confident Step and Walk to Win.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer. He yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet.

His novel “Crazy Like Emotion” is published by Close To The Bone. Short story collection “Kicking Back Drunk ‘Round The Candletree Graves”, and full-length poetry collections “It Is Big And It Is Clever”, “South Wales Outlaw”, “The Gutter Symposium”, “The Dark Side Of British Poetry” and “Uncivil Disobedience Is My Forte” are all published by Hunsbury Press.

Poetry from Patrick Sweeney

when called on to read, 

I was in the same metabolic state

as Ham on take-off

        *

sparrows always at the fragile conjunction

of staying

or going

        *

he never knew the square footage

or the date of anyone’s birthday

        *

dandelion puff ball

going somewhere

without a wish

        *

I rode in the little yellow bus

with Der Witwer

        *

the nervous son of a nervous father,

taking the heat, the white stones refused

        *

who I think I am

in the teeming rain

        *

he was the genius

of nothing worth knowing

        *

mistrusting the rungs

of the ‘borrowed ladder’

        *

for my benefit,

Wednesdays and broken lifelines

        *

listening to Teen Angel

over and over again

        *

stopping him before he could say:

 ‘Sorry for your loss’

        *

she’s overprotective of caterpillars

and runny noses

        *

saying the distance between stars

as if I understand it

        *

the ones who laughed

behind my back

Bio: Patrick Sweeney is a short-form poet and devotee of the public library. 

Poetry from Brent Yergensen

Assurance Came Nigh

I laid in bed, pondering the day,
like a phantom unexpected, sleep took its way.
It was one of those dreams, vivid but just a moment—
imagery rising, leaving my mind in atonement.

I saw a man, burdened with life,
he was drowning in pain, so full his strife.
I saw him walking a field in the forest, shrubbery round him high.
He stopped and pled to God, and assurance came nigh.He emerged assured, leaving the wooded setting with speed,
his confidence high, God answered his need.
And I awoke seconds later, wondering why the short dream—
perhaps a vision, I woke with prayer in mind.

Synchronized Chaos’ Mid-May Issue: Life in Transition

Image c/o George Hodan

“God is Change.” — Octavia Butler, The Parable of the Sower

This month’s issue explores how individuals and societies navigate change, uncertainty, and transformation. Through poetry, essays, cultural criticism, artwork, fiction, and scholarship, these works examine what it means to stay human in a rapidly shifting world, while searching for meaning, connection, identity, and resilience.

Our issue starts with contributors looking directly into time, change, and transformation. Jacques Fleury speaks to seasons, renewal, and the passage of time. Patrick Sweeney’s monostich poems explore transitions, nostalgia, and fleeting but precious moments. J.K. Durick draws on airports as a metaphor for connection, disconnection, and transition. Roberta Beach Jacobson addresses identity, impermanence and transformation in her poetry. Nozimova Shukrona highlights how travel can facilitate personal growth, learning, and development. Tursunova Mehrinoz Oybek qiz outlines the process of self-discovery, career and intellectual development. Laskiaf Amortegui encourages readers to focus on the present and future, drawing on heartbreaks as catalysts for the future rather than letting romantic disappointment hold us back. Elaine Murray celebrates the warm, gentle beauty of the country on a spring day. Brian Barbeito speaks to the deep mystery of the sea as rendered through different works of literature, and to the continual change of seasons.

Image c/o Nicky Pe

Other writers speak to love, longing, and human connection. Mesfakus Salahin reflects on the importance of love and freedom in a changing and fragile world. Joshua Obirija somehow misses a place he’s never been. Stephen Jarrell Williams expresses love, longing, nostalgia, imagination, and a sense of vulnerability. Milica Tomić begs a lover to return to her and renew the early days of their relationship. Yuldasheva Xadichaxon Bahodir qizi laments a lost love. Lan Xin speaks eloquent words of comfort to those living through romantic heartbreak. Eva Lianou Petropoulou rejoices in the power of love to overcome difficult situations. Soumen Roy’s poetry “Lonely River” is a reflective and introspective piece that explores themes of love, isolation, growth, and resilience. Kholboyev Mashrab offers love and respect to his caring mother. Abdusalomova Marjona Jahongir qizi celebrates a mother’s unconditional love. Polina Moys celebrates family, kindness, children, and gratitude for everyday blessings. Bakhadirova Rukhshona remembers the love of a caring grandfather figure. Saparboyeva Laylo Hajiboy kizi’s short story relates how mothering can bring people purpose and help them move forward after loss.

Some people engage in existential reflection and the search for meaning. J.J. Campbell’s lyrical works explore disillusionment, existential crisis, and the search for meaning in a decaying world. Jelena Jovanović illuminates existential crisis, nihilism, and the search for meaning. Sterling Warner’s poems rebel against conformity and consumerism, turning instead to inward spirituality. Sayani Mukherjee explores the concept of soul, the essence of a person, and of a society. Duane Vorhees’ poetry speaks to duality, paradox, repression and authenticity, and the subconscious and the power of nature. Daniel G. Snethen and Alex S. Johnson’s spider poem suggests that existence is cyclical, with life and death being intertwined and perpetual. Elena Nedelcu’s poems present a dreamlike, iridescent view of the world, speaking to self-discovery, love and connection, and spiritual searching.

Some look into war, violence, and historical memory. Alan Catlin’s work probes propaganda, wartime violence, and the “banality of evil” with destruction amidst cultural entertainment. Joseph C. Ogbonna critiques hubris through an epic take on Napoleon’s military downfall in the Russian winter. Marjona Karshiyeva Zoxidjon speaks to war, loss, and the longing for peace. Jernail S. Anand urges people to integrate the lessons of history into today rather than consigning historical figures to the past. Su Yun’s pieces point to the impact of violence on a child’s fragile psyche and the power of art to enhance resilience.

Image c/o Gerd Altmann

Still others explore themes of identity, society, and cultural critique. Ken Poyner touches on the fragility of relationships and social norms and the blurred lines between order and control. Mark Young’s intertextual work sends up a mishmash of names and identities, high and low culture. Alex S. Johnson critiques the propensity of the healthcare system to use its soft power to generate clinical narratives that can override patients’ lived realities. Later, he lampoons celebrity culture through an essay on the off-screen personality of Willem Dafoe. Hilola Sharipova reminds young would-be Internet influencers to focus on character rather than fame and appearance. Muslima Murodova reminds us to look beyond first impressions and avoid snap judgements in social situations.

Literature, art, and creativity are often important vehicles by which we hold onto and communicate our humanity amid change. Kobulova Madina outlines the types of heroes presented in Russian literature and how the concept of heroism has diversified in recent years. Harinder Cheema revels in the power of poetry to foster creativity and transcend cultural boundaries. Ozodbek Narzullayev honors the power of poetry and the calling of being a poet. Shahnoza Amanboyeva adds her thoughts to the question of artificial intelligence’s effects on artistic creativity. Dr. Reda Abdul Rahim compares themes of imagination and facing the unknown in Haruki Murakami’s Murder of the Commander and the ancient epic of Gilgamesh. Murtazoeva Shakhnozabonu advocates for youth to study classical Russian literature. Fhen M. celebrates and honors the lengthy heritage of literary and popular musical and literary culture in his evocative poem. Tuychiyeva Odinaxon Axmadjon qizi looks into how globalization and nationalism are simultaneously influencing Uzbek art. In an interview with poet Eva Lianou Petropoulou about his Hyperloop project, where he collects short poems from around the world, writer Alexander Kabishev discusses what he’s learned about innovation, collaboration, and perseverance.

Several writers look to education, language, and learning as facets of human creativity. Jumanazarova Nafisa speculates on the advantages of online vs offline education. Orinboyeva Sayyora and Maxliyoxon Yuldasheva discuss various pedagogical approaches to improving student communication in foreign languages. Soliyeva Dilshoda Tokhtamatjon qizi highlights ways to use fairy tales to improve language learners’ speech. Alimardonova Gulsevar Sirojiddinovna offers up a comparative analysis of terminology in English and Uzbek. Shohista Narzulla O’ktamova qizi discusses nouns and adjectives in Uzbek dialects. Norqizilova Layla outlines the potential roles for artificial intelligence in education. Feruza Otaboyeva suggests that students should volunteer for the sake of helping others, not just to pad their resumes.

Image c/o Gerd Altmann

Several of these writers focus on the transformation of society through labor, industry, and modernization. Rakhimova Dilafroʻz Axrorjon qizi explores the food industry as a living expression of Uzbek identity, showing how nourishment becomes a bridge between cultural continuity and modern commerce. Umarova Muattarxon Akromjon qizi similarly examines the garment industry as both a practical and symbolic force within Uzbekistan’s evolving economy, where tradition is stitched into the fabric of contemporary life. Oʻrinboyeva Ziynatjon’s discussion of big data expands this transition into the scientific and technological sphere, portraying a world increasingly shaped by information systems that redefine medicine, research, and communication. Kholdorova Durdona Odiljonovna looks deeper into medicine, outlining the physiological mechanism of inflammation. Muxtorov Xabibullo Kozimjon o‘g‘li discusses modern methods for reactive electrical power compensation. Nigora Tursunboyeva weighs the promises and dangers technology presents to younger generations, illuminating the tension between digital opportunity and emotional vulnerability. Jamilova Zaxro’s work on digital diplomacy further reflects a civilization adapting its oldest political practices to a rapidly interconnected world. Meanwhile, Jalolova Ruxshona Nosir qizi, Ubaydullayeva Fariza Sheraliyevna, and O‘rinboyeva Zarina Xabibullo qizi examine risk prediction and logistics modeling, emphasizing how modern societies increasingly rely upon technology and data to navigate uncertainty.

Yet transition is not only technological or economic; it is deeply moral and psychological. Nazarova Hamida turns toward the humanitarian wisdom of Uzbek poets Alisher Navoi and Abay Qunanbayuli, whose works remind readers that periods of change require compassion and ethical grounding. Hua Ai’s reflections in Quintessence similarly argue that meaningful social transformation begins within the self: before one changes the world, one must first confront one’s own consciousness. Zinnura Yo‘ldoshaliyeva explores the psychology of risk-taking, capturing the fragile threshold between fear and courage that accompanies every major life decision. Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi encourages readers to resist the crushing weight of criticism and maintain dignity amid judgment, portraying resilience as an act of survival during moments of personal upheaval.

Many of these works also examine what it means to remain human within unstable environments. Hauwa Hassan Haruna presents one of the collection’s most striking paradoxes: women are often forced to become invisible for safety while simultaneously fighting to remain visible enough to claim dignity and rights. Erkinjonova Bibisora Elyorbek qizi offers another quiet portrait of vulnerability through her empathy for a lonely older man, suggesting how aging itself becomes a transition into isolation and invisibility. Bill Tope mourns the disappearance of inexpensive comic books and childhood treasures, tracing the painful shift from youthful abundance into nostalgic loss. His reflections remind readers that even ordinary objects become markers of changing eras.

Image c/o Gerd Altmann

Against these anxieties, several contributors seek refuge in tenderness, imagination, and connection with the natural world. Ananya S. Guha dissolves the boundaries between human beings and nature, envisioning love and belonging on a planet overshadowed by climate crisis. The poems suggest that humanity’s survival may depend upon rediscovering intimacy with the earth itself. Student works collected by Su Yun return readers to innocence through playful clouds and animals, preserving moments of wonder that adulthood often forgets. Christina Chin’s haiga, centered on kittens and their protective mother, offers an image of care and familial devotion amid uncertainty. Likewise, the poem by Chinese poet and music producer He Taiji portrays Lan Xin as a figure of serenity and kindness whose quiet presence becomes transformative for others, reminding readers that gentleness itself can guide people through periods of unrest.

The collection also celebrates the sustaining power of culture and community during times of transition. Rahmonova Dildora highlights the importance of cultural immersion in her piece where a traveler encounters the gentle sincerity of the Uzbek people, suggesting that identity is strengthened through openness rather than isolation. Yayra Erkin qizi Bo‘riyeva advocates for physical exercise, public competitions, and healthier urban design, envisioning communities that evolve not only economically but physically and socially. Her work imagines progress as something lived collectively through public space, movement, and shared participation.

Transition is both disruptive and necessary, integral to human and non-human nature. Even as it unsettles institutions and identities, change can open new possibilities for connection, awareness, and renewal. These works remind us that people endure, adapt, and continue searching for meaning while the world around them transforms.

Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee

Protocol

The night is starry like heaven

A hibiscus flower upfront

The city is painted red

The crimson is tantalizing

My hands up on the mirror

It sends a signal off

To be in God’s arms with happiness

Pluralism over this city

Protest of feminists and prototype

My verge is on the Bloomsbury gate

The gaze is on the death

Of rebirthing  vocals of masquerade

Martyrdom of heavenly speech

They take your breaths away

Till you pass on the hellfire

To public transport and health issues

The protocol is current

It sends off the heavenly bodies.