Napkin miscellanea 
  
 Following a footnote
 abridged to engross
 Japanese standard
 spellings
  
 gravediggers translate
 promotional resources
 as autumnal studies
  
 useless links condense
 their informative
 relations.   
  
  
 humbled razor sharp
  
 Zen winter coat symmetric PVC pipe
 head a flowerpot 
 earlobe an extension cord
  
 fleeing flea circus attitude
 adjustment cucumber cart
 telephone bra strap app
 scratching iron shackle papal
  
 smeared lips volcanic ash
 pile style smile cesspool
 HorroR escape hot RoD    
  
  
 stone cold malfunction sprain
  
 backend that burps & slides
 so close to bearing shed
 farther than a ski slope swirl
 salamander can of shoefly pie
 leagues before JULES VERNE
 marathon a con a palm
 swan that sprays to play
    /
       /          /
 /            /          /             /
                                /
  
 and no other than another
 bundled cut & razor shaped
 well-versed & terse & tenses
 a parody of electronic hearse
 screwing lightbulbs from exterior   
  
  
  
 Reside where danger lies
  
 Geysers originate artificial weaponry
 on the imaginary look of future
 temporarily shares dimension
 shamed Greco-German empiricism
  
           mainly a latter gift
           aiming inheritance
           into the discourse of
           irredeemable anthropology 
  
 specters pave the epochs
 blind emancipation backwards
 dwell on media theory legacies
 enveloping essential non-endeavors
 conflating forbidden w/ jealousy
 preserving diffuse critique
 the center of the every day  
  
  
  
 Pragmatic convolutions
  
 hotbed of MONARCHY
 the human wart blasted
 feathering itinerant quarrels
 & unleashed furious press
 from their rejected ramparts
 came sighed relief
 hunted by runaway laity
 but one CRITIC presses play
 while another MOUTHPIECE repeats
   

Joshua Martin is a Philadelphia based writer and filmmaker, who currently works in a library. He is the author of the books Pointillistic Venetian Blinds (Alien Buddha Press, 2021) and Vagabond fragments of a hole (Schism Neuronics). He has had pieces previously published in Coven, Spontaneous Poetics, Ygdrasil, Expat, Selcouth Station. RASPUTIN, Train, Fugitives & Futurists, Otoliths, M58, Punk Noir Magazine, Beir Bua, and Scud among others. joshuamartinwriting.blogspot.com

Three Poems
By Chinese Poet Yuan Hongri
Translated by Yuanbing Zhang
 
Another Me From The Heavens

If blue is namely white and black is namely red
and gold is transparent as crystal
and light makes the soul smile forgetting the sun moon and stars
and you were filled with wisdom, drunk for thousands of years
and back to the prehistoric giant city
and that giant is just like another me from the heavens
by the lotus throne in the golden palace.

天上的另一个自己
 
如若蓝即是白而黑即是红
而黄金透明若水晶而光芒令灵魂微笑忘了日月星辰
而汝醍醐灌顶一醉千年而回到了史前之巨城
而那金殿之莲花宝座上的巨人宛然天上的另一个自己
 
The Azure Sea
 
Tonight I thought of the platinum city above in distant space
Where there is no day and night and the giants are interstellar travellers by spaceship
Their words have the dignity of God and create the holy Kingdoms
So that the pictures of the soul in the maze of memory lasts a billion years
Standing by the azure sea near the great palace with swirling sweet music in the city of the gold
3.4.2017
 
蔚蔚之海
 
今夜我想起那遥远太空之上的白金巨城
那儿没有昼夜巨人们乘坐飞船在星际航行
他们的词语拥有上帝的尊严而创造圣洁的王国
亿万年的时光是一幅幅灵魂的画卷在记忆的迷宫
黄金之城橚矗那飘洒蜜甜乐曲的巨人殿宇之蔚蔚之海
2017.3.4
 
The Bath of The Cool Breeze
 
Prehistoric words of the gods are waking up in my body
The platinum city from a strange planet is as if in a fantasy on the blue coast
The giant men and women who walk by the light do not know trouble or sorrow
There where the temple of the gods is in their heads, whose light is like wine flowing in the blood
And the music of the stars sways gently around them, which is like the bath of the cool breeze on the earth
The huge ship of stars which they have ridden can arrive at the other side of time
To let you get a glimpse yourself yesterday in the future and in the divine light of fragrance
12.23.2016
 
淸风之沐
 
史前的诸神之词语正在我体内醒来
那陌生星球上的白金之城在蓝色海岸上恍如梦境
那乘光而行的巨人男女不知道烦恼或忧伤
他们的头颅里有诸神的圣殿光芒如酒在血液里流淌
而星辰的乐曲在身边拂荡犹如地球之上的淸风之沐
他们乘坐的星际巨舰可以抵达时间的彼岸
让你一睹昨日未来之你神性之芬郁之光
2016.12.23

Bio: Yuan Hongri (born 1962) is a renowned Chinese mystic, poet, and philosopher. His work has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada, and Nigeria; his poems have appeared in Poet's Espresso Review, Orbis, Tipton Poetry Journal, Harbinger Asylum, The Stray Branch, Pinyon Review, Taj Mahal Review, Madswirl, Shot Glass Journal, Amethyst Review, The Poetry Village, and other e-zines, anthologies, and journals. His best known works are Platinum City and Golden Giant. His works explore themes of prehistoric and future civilization.


Yuanbing Zhang (b. 1974), is Mr. Yuan Hongri’s assistant and translator. He himself is a Chinese poet and translator, and works in a Middle School, Yanzhou District, Jining City, Shandong Province China. He can be contacted through his email-3112362909@qq.com.


Address:No.18 middle school Yanzhou District ,Jining City, Shandong Province, China Yuanbing Zhang


Phone:+86 15263747339 Email:3112362909@qq.com


 

This poet, Michael Robinson, writes from his heart, there is no doubt….when reading his poetry, you truly feel the emotions as if they hop off the paper….
A truly gifted poet whose life journey has been difficult, but has made him a true example of how someone can beat the odds and shine as a shining star in the art of poetry….a truly amazing poet….

Lorraine DeMauro, Artist….

You may order a copy of Michael Robinson’s book From Chains to Freedom directly from Michael, at MJROBINSON@rollins.edu

Welcome, readers, to September’s issue of Synchronized Chaos Magazine. This month’s submissions invite us to consider our trajectories as individuals, social groups, or even as a species inhabiting the planet.

Some philosophers and social theorists see the development of civilization as a forward march towards greater moral and material progress. Others view how human societies develop over time in a less linear way. To them, societies take some steps forward and some backward, and sometimes make changes that are just changes, not advancements or declines. And others see societies as capable of simultaneously advancing in some areas yet declining in others.

This month’s contributors ponder where we are moving as individuals or as larger societies. Where have we come from, and where are we going?

Lorraine Caputo writes of trains in Mexico, how they can bring reunion as well as separation. Robert Thomas provides cultural commentary and observations through the lens of two different restaurant dinners, and Sandeep Kumar Mishra writes thoughtful and poetic reflections on travel, exile, loss and the complex humanity of the third world and its residents. Kahlil Crawford outlines the cultural and ethnic history of the St. Paul/Minneapolis area. Ike Boat writes of a hardscrabble up-and-coming life as an artist in urban Accra, Ghana. Poet Mary Mackey interviews Sacramento (California)’s poet laureate Indigo Moor, whose recent collection Everybody’s Jonesing for Something explores the hope, dreams, death and injustice involved with the American Dream.

Mark Young and Charlie Robert intersperse bits of history into clever poems. Mark presents fresh mechanically generated pieces starting with ‘found writing’ in literary and non-literary texts, and Charlie Robert echoes American history with scat-like chant pieces.

Dr. Thomas Fink’s poetry considers what happens when we look at organic life and impose our ideas of what progress means, while Andrew C. MacDonald writes of rural life and the passage of time.

Some philosophers posit the existence of a ‘human nature’ that includes some psychological characteristics that stay relatively stable across cultures and throughout time. To them, people and societies face perennial questions and challenges. Several of our contributors speak to tensions that have been considered part of our nature.

Binod Dawadi encourages people to choose peace and tolerance over materialism, greed, prejudice and exclusion. Henry Bladon writes of the journey of death, physical death and soul-death through harming others. Christopher Bernard’s monthly installment of his story The Ghost Trolley presents through a childhood heroic adventure a conflict between those who seek a simple and humble life and those who wish to dominate and control others. Chimezie Ihekuna’s monthly screenplay preview showcases a drama about a corrupt business manager – and those under him who must choose justice or revenge. Z.I. Mahmud, in his monthly installment of his thesis on the works of Charles Dickens, illustrates how Dickens uses literary devices to advocate for humane values in David Copperfield.

Others among our contributors also speak to questions humans face and seemingly universal aspects of the human condition, but on a more personal and individual level.

Hongri Yuan, in poems translated by Yuanbing Zhang, uses imagery to evoke our pursuit of transcendence amidst our difficult and mundane lives. Jack Galmitz speaks to how we see each other and how we might wish to be remembered. Mahbub rejoices in various forms of love as a comfort during personal or political tragedies. R.P. Verlaine sings of love lost, memory, and remonstrance. Mike Zone writes of a man who loses, or gives over, part of his humanity through love and imagination, and becomes something other than himself.

Michael Steffen’s speakers have to decide whether to step out of their comfort zones to learn and grow, while Mark Blickley presents a man who rethinks his behavior. J.J. Campbell’s short e.e. cummings-esque poetic pieces look at the dangerous and dull places our minds can go when left alone. Elizabeth Hughes reviews Vincent Hollow’s poetry collection Swan Songs of Cygnus in her monthly Book Periscope column, which draws on astronomy and cosmology as a metaphor for the emotional journey of love and grief.

Sushant Kumar celebrates the hard work and devotion of mothers. As he reminds us, we all have someone who birthed and who raised us, we all come from somewhere.

Departure's Price 
 
To feel what isn’t there 
is all I need this far
into a one-night adventure,
daylight now ends. 
 
Wanting her to tell me nothing,
except lies that would convince 
a clock to move forward 
to no return or a pause 
at the precise or 
rumored false step 
any love demands more 
than once... 
 
Around which we skirted,
skilled as puppets 
who can do little more 
than entertain 
even when the applause 
is neither obsequious 
or false. 
 
And now the price of 
departure, a tax 
wanton drinking and lust begets, 
awaits with receipt... 
 
As we linger in a paid for bed 
without the energy for lies,
I check messages 
that say nothing. 
 
While she watches,
showing no emotion,
a copy of me,
trying to figure out 
long after the last kiss 
how to get out of this 
with a grace we both lack. 
 
Knowing this was a mistake 
and the new day only 
a chance to make more.

 
 
K2

Driving to the airport, its nearly dawn
turbulent dark skies and dim tiny stars
my lone company- the radio's low.
Trying to make sense why so much has gone
awry or failed to transpire so far.
all faith submerged , lost to the undertow.
where life seizes you and then flings you down
until you’re prostrate on knees or the floor
someone shouting ten and you’re counted out.
I'm driving to a new start and new town.
It wasn't love K, you closed all the doors
I kept knocking still, with all of my doubts.
K, I see your face with its vague sad hope
its goodbye tears, it wasn't love but close


Beginnings

Do not ask me of others, let’s start fresh.
As if we were rare seedlings in the spring
sprouting promises with our sweetest thoughts
rooted deep beyond earthly wants of flesh.
Beyond true love’s lost dark imaginings
pale jealousies , tides of mistrust wrought.
Let ardor beckon, wondrously new
we’ll be its play things, puppets in a dance.
outside the present to postpone regret
by giving love each day its place, yet true
to ourselves, mocking fate’s uneven chance
diving to we know not, and come out blessed.
So let’s begin, without a sin or stain
after I ask you this-what is your name.



Her Blank Canvases 

Home dining alone or with one who cares 
she claims she’s happier since the divorce 
won’t marry again even in a dream. 
When asked if she still paints, I’m made aware 
passing fancies and hobbies run their course 
as does a lover lost in the midstream. 
Where I drowned in drink after she left me 
to go to Paris with a man she thought 
loved her and did till the money ran out. 
While I stayed servant to the tapestries 
of color and wild imaginings caught in a canvas awash in reckless doubt. 
When I say I still paint, there’s dead silence 
ah there’s much that dies without violence. 


Truncated Affair 

You can kiss 
each of 
my tattoos,
she said,
if you buy me one. 
 
I asked about
the scar on her cheek.
She was silent,
not wanting me 
near wounds,
healing or unhealed. 
 
We made love,
our confidence 
misplaced in 
a bed where  
excitement’s rush 
& its dichotomy 
to both discover and hide 
were the wrong guides 
to entwine us 
past the 
temporary. 
 
She was precious,
much as she denied it 
when sober, which
was rare. 
 
Each morning, 
pouring me coffee,
she'd do two lines,
check mgs,
leaves me 2 poems
someone else wrote  
a disquieting challenge 
I never clearly won 
or lost. 
 
When we traded kisses,
I'd win every time
it didn’t count. 
 
Real or imagined,
her smile is always enough 
to earn her tattoos. 
 
Trouble came 
in a script for a movie 
she began to think 
was us...
 
In real time 
arguments, complications,
violence, plot twists 
to an ending. 
 
Predictable,
even with all the  
rewrites. 
 
Her goodbye, 
open ended evil,
made truth out of the lies 
in the disconnected 
thoughts of her
I can't disconnect  
from now,
unable to sleep 
i'm no longer awake 
without some cost. 
 
Imagining only 
her ink stained body again 
leaving mine unmarked  
with its sweat 
almost clean enough 
for purgatory.

Life In Greater Accra.

LIGA Series – 1 By Ike Boat

The LIGA Series describes real-life story of a creative artiste ‘Ike Boat’ and what have been his battles, challenges and struggles in Accra, the capital city of Ghana, West Africa. He conceived the idea to write this ‘Arti-Blog’ based on what he narrates as being a bane of joblessness, homelessness and sleeplessness in this part of Ghana, as he’s been a stranger to natives of the communities where he finds himself – Author : Dennis Mann

In this Series 1 of LIGA he writes about his decision to be in Accra and how life is treating him on daily basis and how he’s coping else facing such harsh conditions as realities, beside the issues of making a living.

LIGA 1

LIGA – Quite such an interesting similarity of the abbreviation or acronym, thus LIGA with regard to the Spanish football premier league dubbed La Liga or the German premier League Bundes-Liga. Well this real-life story as article-blog is not in any-way or means associated or connected with the Spanish soccer i.e.(sport) association, institution or organization in Spain. But on the contrary, it’s exact reflection of acronym used as title of this real-life personal story with regard to happenings to me in Greater Accra region as I made both bold and faith oriented move here a couple of months ago. Whether it’s step in a right direction or not, this really unfolds some aspects of daily life as a bitter-pill to swallow, beside pukes or problems and challenges in this capital city of Accra, Ghana. (West Africa).

Life In Greater Accra (LIGA) the capital of Ghana has generally not been easy with me at all even as I try to be positively busy every day. Unimaginably, I have been trying harder and harder from actual to virtual mediums or mean to ensure that the talents, skills and abilities become useful to individuals and companies I establish contact with but it like throwing punches in the air. However, there have been no positive results or responses. Countless number of employment applications to media companies and individual employers but all seem Cos-90 move. I presume of the reasons being rich achievements on Curriculum Vitae (CV) or Resume, so some companies or business owners think it difficult to agree on particular payment satisfaction. More-so, another application view or presumption is such that some human resource personnel or highly positioned staff members feel uncomfortably they’ll lose their role or position when accepted into the establishment based on multi-skills or talents I possess.  Obviously, there have been hectic and realistic times trying harder with heart of hope and faith to in relation to every-day perseverance in ensuring breakthrough success and progress in the Arts industry. To be precise, as far as the God-given talents, gifts and skills coupled with prospects and potentials of daily hustle and bustle are concerned in this cosmopolitan city of Ghana, West Africa. Factually, the struggles and sufferings have nothing to do with being lazy or act of laziness as a chap with positive dreams, realistic ambitions and holistic aspirations to make life bearable before departure from this earth. Of course, being in Accra has been a long time heart-yearn during my teen-aging years back in Takoradi, where I born and grew up.

         On 19^th March,2021 I arrived in Accra from Kasoa precisely the perching residence at Estate Top and Blue Top Estate respectively, thus in house owned by the former International footballer in the personality of Mr.Owusu Afriyie currently based in Deutschland (Germany). The first move was primarily as a result of an invitation to feature as guest on Awake TV program dubbed Pillow Talk hosted by Lady Sherry Nyarko. Graciously, I had generous fund support from a noble figure outside of Ghana as a means of sponsorship for the transportation and accommodation. Indeed, it’s aided the fare and lodging at Mavis Hotel as I did several communications with the management and leadership in charge of this hospitality firm within Asylum Down suburb of Accra. Well, on the aftermath I engaged in thought-processing creative writing in terms of Blog and Vlog 233 Concept for online publication purposes.

         Of course, ups and downs of this LIGA also bring to bear realistic characters of some people being ungenerous in heart even if a person is on the verge of death due to certain harsh human conditions. A clear case study, of personally approaching a man who has stayed in Britain for years (expatriate) in times of dire need to eat and him turning me down with sheer ignorance even though everything show he’s able to provide as little as five (5) Cedis to buy food. It’s quite unconvincing and unbelievable his reason for refusing to show sense of generosity as I called on him at his residence in Asylum Down area of Accra. However, on one occasion I received a good surprise of fifty (50) banknote courtesy madam Harriet Quardey, the boss-lady, owner and prime operator of Mum’s Corner pub, where I have been MC a couple of times. Undoubtedly, it was one hunger day like a stranger who’s uninvited to her house and needed food to survive.  Well, one evening whilst walking on the newly tarred road I came across two (2) Cedis wrinkled banknote on the floor and mine oh, mine oh, it’s time of singing praises of hallelujah choruses unto God as I had nothing to eat the next morning.

         Lo, from one lodging place to another I have been dislodged and slept at unusual wrong areas suffering the night bites of wanton mosquitoes with uncomfortable restlessness leading to state of insomnia. For weeks, I have been sleeping at the wooden structure drinking bar of St. Sam Hotel here at Asylum Down in Accra. Factually, borrowing and owing as a promising artistic talent makes curious minds and conscious masses think differently about supposed star fellow in this infotainment age of technological advancement. Come to think of behind the scenes mock by some in secrecy!

Your guess is as good as mine, oh mine, oh mine – LIGA! There have been countless times of being at food selling joint without money to buy food and quite shamefully begging and pleading to get food and pay-back later. Oh, gosh, hmm – LIGA! The unpredictable times at kenkey and fried-fish with grind pepper selling joint, porridge with sugar and bread selling joint, fried-rice and chicken selling joint, just to mention but a few. Having said this, chef Peter Agombire and assistant Isaac Adobo have consistently contributed to aid my hunger condition as I continue to find lasting solution to such a bane of LIGA. Lest I forget, the one-on-one deep-life conversations with Madam Anna Cole coupled with her rollicking circular designed rice and stew with cooked egg offer at her family residence in Tabora, also remains unforgettable thus in relation to appreciation with grateful heart of gratitude in this LIGA Series.

         Reader, better-still I really don’t take for granted or refuse to express heart of gratitude the supportive manner and care of Mr.Harrison Nii Quaye the professional Real Estate agent (Realtor), who has bought food for me and given to me on several occasion, especially in my critical low moment of being so hard-up and broke, beside hungry in angry times like hum-ani i.e.(human-animal) figure on unfamiliar habitat. At times, escorting him to places such as Achimota, Osu, Labadi, Nima , James Town and other suburbs of Accra onboard a car he drives also has exposed and taught me lots of things about different areas with different arrays of life-style in relation to culture and livelihood as far as this LIGA is concerned. It also needful to mention as appreciable recognition of Mr. Earl Mantey, the Programs Manager of Happy 98.9 FM and Mr. Francis Cann (Dr.Cann) Presenter of Happy 98.9 FM as they have also contributed generously by way of buying food for me and giving token of money at certain point to aid the LIGA hardships. I’m so grateful as well for the media related interactions with them being staff of Global Media Alliance – GMA brand.

         In narrating LIGA, the sob-story of an Italian old-man who passed away at Mavis Hotel also brings about gracious nature of God’s gift of life to us in this part of Africa, Ghana to be precise. Well, one may wonder and ask why didn’t he kick the bucket at his homeland, Italy?  I remember, him dying on same room and bed that I accommodated my first week in Accra and I together with other three men carrying his lifeless body to a police car to the morgue/mortuary. It also reveals how and why as humans we need to thank God on daily basis. Pathetically, this man by first name Andrea in his fifties slept and didn’t wake-up again. And, it’s unknown to none of us at the hotel for days and by the time we realized his body on verge of decay in the room, thus same bed I slept on for days. Of course, together with Mr. Harrison Nii Quaye and Mr. Emmanuel Annan it’s to and fro at the Adabraka Police Station in Accra. Indeed, making realistic report of such death-case in this CoViD-19 times and brought about further investigations. Hmmm, it’s another solemn LIGA moment!

         Indeed, Life In Greater Accra (LIGA) without stating the following VIPs as worthwhile recognition of gratefulness towards their continuous Mo-Mo Support remains incomplete in this Series 1. Thus, notable acknowledgment of appreciation to Mr. Kenneth Anim, Mr. Dennis Agyeman and Mr. Agabus Asmah all have continually given to my state of uncertainties in coping with LIGA coupled with the Accommodation bane. Also, some distinguished International figures that have helped to cope financially with regard to LIGA includes: Mr. Andy Estrada #Dad & Mrs. Julie Estrada #Mom in USA, Madam Aja Pugh in USA, Minstrel Stella Addo in USA,Madam Dagmar Erb in Germany, Madam Lilian Aduka in Nigeria and Madam S.B Jabini in the Netherlands.

To Be Continued In LIGA Series 2 !

Real-Life Art-Blog Written By Ike Boat @ Asylum Down, Accra (Ghana).

Email Address: ikeboatofficial@gmail.com

Whats-App Number: +233267117700

Direct-Call Number: +233552477676