Dyunlekan was born in a place that is covered with deep woods. That place was still covered with white snow. Reddish-grey ground will be seen only in summer. What saw Dyulecan in the world is his father’s wooden cabin, green fir trees and nut trees, flannel dogs and deer that pull sledges, sky, cloudes and frog. He also knew polar fox, blue wolfe, brown and black bear and bogs of the thicket. Although his father, Mirgachan, told him about marvelous things of other worlds, he hardly believed that they existed. How could he believe the things he hadn’t seen?

One day a helicopter landed on the thicket. As every child Dyulekan was surprised looking at helicopter. His hair was as brown as bear and his eyes were as blue as the lake. He was coming towards Mirgachan, Dyulekan’s father, also was hurried: “ –At last you came, Victor – he said.

“ –Mirgachan, it has passed 12 years since we last met”, – a white man slightly beated on Mirgachan’s shoulder. “ – Where is your son, at that time he was a new born child. The time flies.”

Mirgachan met Victor, when Dyulecan was born. This all because adventurous Victor fifteen years before visited this village and got lost in the wood. Fortunately, Mirgachan on the sledge ran into him. He took Victor to his wooden home and gave him to warm himself. He made healing tea by verdures and gave him. These were the reasons of their making friendship. Uncle Victor told him about the world, where he lived and Mirgachan wanted to go to that world. So, uncle Victor took him to Moscow. Mirgachan came back with a lot of impressions and would always tell about another world with pleasure. Because no one expect Mirgachan had been there. Uncle Victor lived a week at Dyulecan’s cabin. During this week Mirgachan took him for hunting on the sledge with dogs. Mirgachan also went for a trip on the sledge with deer. Uncle Victor was very happy. Near to his leaving, uncle Victor invited Mirgachan to Moscow again.

“ – No, thank you,’ – he refused seriously, ”– I have been there. I won’t go again. Impressions which I’ve taken are enough for me to the rest of my life. Can my son Dyulecan go with you, if you don’t mind? I want him to have conception about another world. “

Uncle Victor listened to Mirgachan with a smile on his face and agreed to his offer. So, Dyulecan on the iron bird came to Moscow. To Dyulecan’s surprise, there weren’t any wooden houses. They lived as a flock of deer in the crowded square houses that reminded big stone boxes. Besides, there were glass building all around and they hang colorful lams everywhere. They shone day and night over noisy city. They cut the wood and build wide plains. They go in the cars, but not on the sledge. Just to please Dyulecan uncle Victor took him to places, where women have short hair like men’s and wear open closes. He saw uncountable new things like underground, internet, hypermarket, bar, disco clubs. They all were artificial and strange for Dyulecan. Because all people here talked using such senseless words as massage, “odnoklasniki”, “what’s app”, “facebook”, “office”. Dyulecan missed his own home. Because there people talked about sky, bread, wood and deer in his native language – tungus.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 


Sherzod Komil Khalil was born on 13th September in 1982 in Kitab  district, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. He studied at Uzbekistan National  

University for Bachelor of philosophy from 1999 to 2003. Sherzod gained a master degree in Modern philosophy and history of the West from 2003 to  2005. 

He also studied for Higher Literature Course. In 2016, Sherzod Kamil Khalil’s book “Ileft Poetry” was published in the United States. His works have been published in more than twenty languages. Sherzod Kamil Khalil is the brightest figure of young writers of Central Asian literature.He currently lives in the Writers' Town in Peredelkino, Moscow.

 Now Sherzod Komil Khalil is a freelance writer

Tan-Renga by Christina Chin & James Young 


late moonrise 
the blood moon bleeds
an unsettling howl

the clock says it is
the time i think it is



a sacrificial fowl
at the crossroad 
incoherent chants

the book falls
title page up



licking thin lips
a raspy whisper 
lights her eyes

drawing closer
we are all there



creating potions
the new priestess 
casts spells 

the cat
watching a spider



drumming 
on the lintel beam
a woodpecker

across the cemetery 
no heads turn

PRAGUE, CENTER OF THE WORLD

I was happy in Prague.
Because I drank the best spirits
Meet a historical fact
Yes, Prague is a country of existence
Where people are very happy
I was a tourist one day.
But I felt like it every day.
I am their resident.
Because they are really good people.
Historical battles are shown
Where people with swords fought
For the history of his country
In all this, it is as if I find myself
Because the meaning of life is my existence.
Love was born in that wonderful time.
When no one cared, it wasn't
Prague is the centre of the world for me.
Because I feel free in it.
The reason for life is now more persistent
Because the Czech Republic is the land of peace and happiness


COLD WEATHERS
Winter has come
In a white coat
There's a man standing
That was me.
And I looked around
Austria is a country of cold
Rich in Mozart balls
Eight euros and much more
I was amazed by the garden
At Schoburn Castle
And everything is as if they are in a dream.
More than ever especially
Because I'm so happy
Why I meet people at night
Culture and Art
I appreciate everything about them
Because they are people
Similar menu
Cold but beautiful
Because the meaning of life is
To look forward to a new day
Coming to me
Austria is my dream
To experience it again
Because love is very clear
When I have what I want!

Maid Corbic from Tuzla, 22 years old. In his spare time he writes poetry that is repeatedly praised as well as rewarded. He also selflessly helps others around him, and he is moderator of the World Literature Forum WLFPH (World Literature Forum Peace and Humanity) for humanity and peace in the world in Bhutan.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

where did it all go wrong

 

i see my reflection

in the window

 

where did it all go

so wrong?

 

this woman wonders

where i lost my smile

 

i start telling a story

about a bathroom

floor and a horror

that visits my dreams

to this day

 

she tells me the name

of a great therapist

 

i give her the names

of all the drugs that

never worked for me

---------------------------------------------------------------

years of decay

 

loneliness

is a weapon

 

sometimes

a broken heart

never heels

 

these old bones

have seen the

horror of endless

years of decay

 

pain is the only

companion that

doesn't have plans

in the middle of

the day

------------------------------------------------------------

a kiss and a bottle of wine

 

whispers

in the rain

 

long lost lovers

realizing time

can't be made

up over a kiss

and a bottle

of wine

 

it's that cold feeling

of what could have

been that haunts every

soul that ever dared

to love or be loved

 

the scars come with

the territory

 

those that can't take

the pain i would advise

to learn to take the baby

steps first

 

love yourself

 

sometimes,

that is the

hardest

of all

----------------------------------------------------------

to deal with anxiety

 

i guess the easiest

way to deal with

anxiety is to no

longer give a shit

 

be careful applying

this to all aspects

of your life

 

most people won't

understand and label

you an asshole

 

the joy is that other

assholes will recognize

you and give you that

nod of approval

 

look there, a whole

new set of friends

----------------------------------------------------------

another morning appointment

 

my mother hates

the mornings about

as much as i do

 

yet here we

are again

 

another morning

appointment, this

time at the dentist

 

she swears she

only takes these

appointments if

they are the only

time the place

has

 

i beg to differ

and casually

remind her of

all the mornings

she had to wake

up early for work

 

you are retired

now

 

you are allowed

to enjoy it

 

she tends to forget

that

 

and i wish i wasn't

the one to have to

remind her

---------------------------------------------------

J.J. Campbell

jcampb4593@aol.com

https://evildelights.blogspot.com



https://goodreads.com/jjthepoet


J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He's been widely published over the years, most recently in Jellyfish Whispers, Dumpster Fire Press, Terror House Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash and The Rye Whiskey Review. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

Unbroken Self-Portrait of a broken boy

my greatest fear is dying 
alone in a windowless apartment in the countryside. &
having my dead mass submerged 
6 ft in the tangible despair that is my aura. 
i'm still trying to figure out 
why all my stories taper into tragic endings. 
my therapist said i'm broken. she lied. 
my mouth is home to the most torturous sores 
that have been conceived by guilt. 
my body drowns in the ocean of my eyes when i'm alone.
i'm always alone. I do not believe 
love is a craft to be learned. or i do not believe
 I am capable of learning it. 
I've been hurt too many times. I've fractured every bone
in my heart. my body is a brick wall with no doors. I'm unable to let anyone in. 
I know it's hard to believe, 
but my smile is a drawing on my face that fades at night.
I know it's hard to believe, but this poem 
was not meant to end this way. I know it's hard to believe
but this poem was meant to have a happy ending.

Babatimehin Asíwájú is a student of Civil Engineering in the University of Ibadan. A Essayist, Poet and Dramatist, he writes on social issues as well as on his minority-tribe identity. He is currently a member of The Poetic Collective, TPC. 

Writing apart, he is involved with activism and while he’s not doing either, he plays table tennis.

Proverbs and Poetry from Faroq Faisal

1. Dying with disgust is very painful 
2. Every day I look at myself in the mirror - I see how much is left for the end of humanity. 


Tears of Inside

The body of my love inside the teardrops accumulated in the corners of the eyes.
 Decayed body - leaves fall in the fall. 
Pandemic and decrepitude are the bewilderment of creation, the moth's body is fragrant night.
That night is not the deep wound of the moon's belly, but the glory of the sun.
It's just the wee worm's deep kiss inside the point, the wound inside the wound - the eternal sky beyond.
Velvety body killer youthful Madhavi (a flower name) Madhavi's tears are not the point - the tears inside the point. 

Merry Christmas!

( The Phone conversation between James and Jane)

Jane: James, it’s been over eleven months in the waiting for Christmas
James: Jane, in as much as we’ve been waiting for this period to come; now it has. You know how time flies.

Jane: You’re right! I’ve been waiting for us to meet. You know what James?
James (sounding anxious): Jane, What’s that? You know I’m not good at guessing rightly
Jane: Just guess….
James (a bit upset): Just can’t!!

Jane: Okay. You know I miss you a lot.
James (Indifferent): Yea. Is that all you have to tell me, Jane?
Jane: So, what’s wrong with that? You know how upset I could be…when you sound that way

James: Oh! I’m so sorry. It was never intended.
Jane (jokingly): You’d better be. Anyway, apologies accepted. We are about being ushered into a season of love, merry-making and harmony. So, no need to harbor bitterness.

James: I agree. You’re right! Will be great meeting you after missing you…
Jane: I can’t wait to have my arms around your shoulders so tightly. You know what I mean
James: You can say that again, sweetheart. I roger that! (Smiles) It won’t be long, honey. Just two weeks to the time.

Jane:  I will be on leave before then and before your eyes would twinkle, I’ll be with you, saying, ‘Merry Christmas!’
James: Jane, I’ll be glad to reciprocate this. I dream of seeing you…like now! Merry Christmas, my dearest Jane! 

Jane: Merry Christmas to my darling, James. Again, Merry Christmas!
James: Got to go, Jane. Will call you back later.

Jane (concerned): Hope no problem…
James: Nah! It’s just that I got some other tasks on my work plate to attend. Hmmm…wished we could keep talking every day. Just have to go back to work. Merry Christmas in advance!

Jane: Merry Christmas in Advance, darling. Miss you!!! (Kisses the phone)
THE PHONE HANGS UP
The End


The Month of December

Welcome to the ‘December’ month
There are three other ‘’ber’’ months-September, October and November
But the month of December is different

It is a period for the season of Christmas;
the celebration of the yuletide
the month where the first day would be counted as a build-up to the celebration date-Christmas Day
the preparation of gifts items, other presents, food varieties and several decoration tastes starts long before the December 25th deadline

the month of December houses the ‘’Merry Christmas’’ celebration and paves way for the ‘’Happy New Year’’ wish.