I Speak My Mind

I speak my heart out, unbridled and free,
A symphony of emotions, intertwined with every word,
I am yet to discover, the depths of my soul,
Living life in chapters, unfolding with each passing moment,

Gazing up at the brilliant blue, across the zenith and nadir,
I am a living embodiment of life, in this moment, right here and now,
My thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of hues,
In every step, I seek your guidance,

From the turbulent clouds, of inner turmoil, dense and dark,
Falling into the crest of the sea, there the sailor smiled upon me,
Chapters merging into one, oneness radiating, with faith in my eyes,
Motionless yet in motion, blossoming with love,

The divine religion, there my dreams spread their wings,
Again, limitless saga, nothing seems impossible,
There I assemble in you, and the monk meditates, in eternal newness.

Desolate

Devastated by the world,
Standing amidst the debris,
Where emotions have been numbed,
On the arid soil,
Where the shovel refused to cultivate,
Vacant eyes searching for those hands,
Now merely a memory,
There, my verdant spirit sings of the autumn fall,
In a huff,
Abandoned in the lanes of desire and acquisition,
Shrieking in solitude amidst the mirage,
Hawks flying overhead,
Vultures lurking over the vulnerable heart,
A rugged dholak stifling the feeble voice,
And life, set free, leaving nothing behind,
Loud, as never before.

The Cloud and the Rainbow

Dense cloud in the sky

No light of the sun

Darkness all around

In this summer season

Hot weather sweating the body and firing the nature

Suddenly the sky becomes so gloomy

Just like my beloved’s face in the shadow of sorrow

It stands as the dead of the dark starless night

In this puzzled situation I lean down in the lightning

The earth trembles with fire and die so many people in the thundering

After the rain in the half bright sky the rainbow blooms out with a hope

That colorful garden laughs out with heavenly brightness

The deaths embedded on the ground

And the bright flowers smiling on the other side

The rain takes out the lives in contrast it helps sprout the new lives

And the colored rainbow in the sky smiles in the glory of hope

We everyday weave.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

13 May, 2025.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

Mom and dad

Were in a meeting with my dad 

Today he was in a car with me 

The other night he said that

The guy who is in charge is 

The Man and that the man 

The Woman who was the man 

The Girl is a woman is the 

The Woman that was born 

The Man was a man who had 

I never heard of before 

I had to look up the 

The New York album on 

I just saw that and it 

Was a good even song 

I just didn’t like it 

I don’t know what 

I was going to 

I was just thinking of 

I don’t have any more of those 

Akmalova Zeboxon Akobirxon qizi is an Alfraganus University Psychology 2 course student.

My Morning Conversation..!

Oh morning, my friend…

Good morning to you, and to all the beautiful things around us.

To you who returned after a long, dark night,

Good morning, my morning,

To the places where we laughed so much,

To every spot we visited,

To every café and every coffee cup,

And to every heart that carries purity in its soul — just like you, my friend.

Reach out your hand to mine —

One hand cannot clap alone,

But it invites you to enjoy a cup of coffee from my hand.

Let’s share stories and memories we once lived together

As we sip the warmth of morning coffee.

For in coffee, beauty shines just as you do.

My friend,

Good morning to you,

You and coffee remain my dearest companions.

You are the essence of nature and its comforter —

Without you, nature would not be as we desire.

And coffee — the icon of morning and the queen of warmth —

Lifts us from the ecstasy of dreams and thoughts

Into a world where we discover something new with your arrival.

You gather us,

And collect what scattered from us in the vastness of space.

My beautiful friend,

You steal your light from the sun,

You are the hope that erases the heart’s pain and burdens.

Let your morning breeze speak of the beauty of your soul,

So our morning may be filled with goodness and hope.

You are the garden of love that grants happiness and safety.

In you, souls are renewed with every creation.

Do you know your worth to me and to humanity?

You, the light-hearted visitor —

You are that morning, unchanged!

Yet every day,

You come to us with a new face,

Radiant, smiling, and more beautiful and elegant than before.

Because you are the morning,

You are the one from whom people draw their beauty.

Every day I greet you —

May God bless your morning with joy.

Know that I am with you, wherever you are.

Every day I thank God,

And I remember Him more,

So I may find happiness,

And so may you —

That your soul may find peace.

Good morning, my friend.

You are the rose and its fragrance.

These are soft and tender words I greet you with —

For they are lovely and kind.

Every night before I sleep, and at dawn,

I ask my Lord:

Will the morning visit me today?

Will a cup of coffee bring us together once more?

I send my peace and greetings to it with the scent of roses.

In the morning,

I search for my things,

My wishes,

And for someone beautiful like you,

Oh my morning… my friend.

Do you know, you who brighten the face of the day?

I am a person who seeks peace of mind and respect

With someone who values life, love, and kind connection.

Because, honestly,

I am just like you — light-spirited,

Careful, precise, clean, elegant, and organized.

I dislike chaos.

I’m looking for a woman who is beautiful, gentle, generous,

Someone with presence and personality —

A woman with pride, nobility, and radiance.

I wish to build this relationship

On mutual respect and trust between us, in love.

Would you accept me as a friend and a beloved?

That is who I am,

My beautiful friend…

Oh morning.

Andijan State Institute of Foreign Languages
Foreign Language and Literature German Language Direction
Student of group 402 Yunusova Khodisa
Scientific advisor Isamutdinova Durdona

Annotation: This article explores the concept of clarity in teachers’ speech and its importance in the educational process. It analyzes the lexical, grammatical, and stylistic aspects of clarity and substantiates how clear speech enhances the effectiveness of teaching. The article also provides methods for achieving clarity in teacher speech along with practical recommendations.

Annotation: V dannoy state rassmatrivaetsya ponyatie yasnosti rechi uchitelya, eyo role i znachenie v obrazovatelnom protesse. Proanalizirovany lexicheskie, grammaticheskie and stylisticskie aspekti yasnosti, obosnovana effektivnost prepodavaniya posredstvom chyotkoy rechi. Takje privedeny sposoby obespecheniya yasnosti rechi uchitelya i prakticheskie rekomendatsii.

Key words: speech culture, teacher’s speech, accuracy, educational process, lexical accuracy, grammatical accuracy, methodological accuracy, lesson effectiveness

Speech technique and oratory culture. Speech technique refers to the means used to convey speech to the listener or student. The teacher’s voice, pronunciation, diction, and in general, live speech always serve as a kind of standard, a model for students, especially students in younger grades. Any defect in the teacher’s live speech, whether large or small, does not remain unnoticed by the student, it immediately attracts his attention. If such a defect is regularly observed in the teacher’s speech, then the student, although unfairly offended by the teacher, may go so far as to mock him in absentia and ridicule him on the basis of this defect.

For example, when students talk about such a teacher among themselves, they remember him with this defective voice, pronunciation or diction, which is certainly not a positive situation for the overall educational process. A teacher who is devoted to his profession must always take care of the phonetic correctness of his speech in order to create and maintain the image of a flawless and valuable teacher in the eyes of his students. True, it is impossible to completely get rid of such aspects of the voice that make it unpleasant, such as innate hoarseness and squeakiness.

However, the defects that arise due to insufficient knowledge of speech technique can be eliminated as much as possible by awareness of phonetic knowledge, voice training (in Russian, “postanovka golosa”), accurate pronunciation, and various exercises on correct breathing during speech. Historians have written that the famous ancient Greek orator Demosthenes initially had a low voice, poor pronunciation, and shortness of breath, which prevented him from delivering a beautiful and impressive speech.

As the scientist S. Inomkhodjaev, who has studied this area in depth, noted, later Demosthenes very seriously began to master the basics of speech technique. Speech is a thought that has become reality using the means of expression available in the language and is manifested in two forms: 1) internal speech; 2) external speech. Internal speech is the thought, reasoning, and reflection of a person without opening his mouth, formed in the teacher’s mind, consisting of elements of language that have not yet been realized.

Speech that occurs as real sounds through the influence and movement of the teacher’s thoughts and ideas on the speech organs through language is external speech, which is a social phenomenon. The teacher’s speech activity consists of: speaking, reading, and listening. A speech event can be in the form of a monologue, dialogue, polylogue, declamation, and also in the form of a separate text and book. Speech is referred to the speaker in a specially prescribed manner by its volume.

Based on the analysis of pedagogical and psychological literature, the following characteristics of speech can be distinguished: 1. Functions: communication, influencing the individual, a means of education and upbringing. 2. Forms: external speech (oral): monologue, dialogue, polylogue; writing: report, abstract, annotation, etc.; internal point of view. 3. Speech technique: professional quality of the teacher’s voice: timbre, intonation, diction, tempo (120 words per minute). 4. Types of speech activity: reading, writing, speaking.

WHERE DREAMS DWELL

So tremulously like a dream …

(“Clown in the moon” – Dylan Thomas)

In a separate world

dreams are alive.

Constellations of lights and

interstellar sounds attend their birth.

They creep into our minds

through a meandering trail

when the night is darkest.

Like dancing shadows

tremulous they enter

they play, mutate, dominate

are lost in dissociated sequences.

They plunge into the unfathomable

depths of memory

to emerge again.

And when the first blades of light

pierce the sky

they vanish … crumpled, shattered 

toward invisible horizons

in echoing silence

Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Broken Images

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter…

(T.S. Eliot: The Waste Land)

Among  ears of wheat now dry

there are no red poppies in the fields

of this long hot summer.

The sun rises and sets

on a land of dust

on an endless desert.

And that dazzling light seems to burn

blurred memories and vain hopes.

Waiting for the evening shadows and

for a cool breeze that will not come

we can almost feel  how  time

shuffles and rushes

our fears towards the final collapse.

In front of us only a heap of broken images:

maybe that’s the last call to save the earth.

Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Lidia Chiarelli (Italy) is one of the Charter Members of Immagine & Poesia, the art-literary
Movement founded in Italy in 2007 with Aeronwy Thomas.
Installation artist and collagist. Coordinator of #DylanDay in Italy.
Award-winning poet since 2011.
Her writing has been published in more than 150 International Poetry magazines and web-sites.
https://lidiachiarelli.jimdofree.com/
https://lidiachiarelliart.jimdofree.com/

Rainbow

Yes, I am for Unity

Yes, I am for Equality

I am also for Diversity

Not for Singularity

Nor for Monotony

For beauty lies in Autonomy

How would a rainbow look like,

When all it have is but

One color, One shade?

No boundaries, where colors can separate but blend,

Blend into different shades and hues

Even a black and white photograph

Has its different shades and hue

Yet our minds are set

Between one not even two.

For two will make us choose, be IN or OUT

And OUT will always be wrong

Because IN is always right.

And Tolerance does not mean Respect

Just waiting to prove the other Weak.

We see only what we want to see

We understand what we only want

We believe only what is beneficial

Others are blind or lying false.

How I envy the unschooled beasts

They have territories, yet respect boundaries

They do not attack, unless hungry

Knowing not of greed, nor hatred

How I envy the rainbow in the sky

Brightly shining after after cold dark storm

No color, but the sun makes it beautiful

Neither clashing, nor overlapping.

Nature is harsh but it has its rule

Diversity so to balance its growth

Yet we are smarter than Nature

We control, change and destroy

Rules made by Nature, we can overcome

Because we are smarter than Nature.

And rainbows are just part of foolish nature.

Vengeance

Once I donned the perfume of the innocent

Thinking it will shield me from evil’s intent

Yet when you recognized the purity scent

You came and tore down my peaceful tent

Your claw hands my virginal gown did rent

My mind to your devious wishes force bent

My soul to hell’s sulphuric kingdom sent

And my sanity to Limbo’s voidness went

I came back and wore the musk of the beast

My turn to bring havoc to the west and east

I watched as the hyenas and buzzards feast

For the past I know I should not care the least

But why instead of success I feel pains of defeat

Why do I feel numb from head down to my feet

Why have my heart and pulse end their beat

Ashes poured on my head and in the mud I seat

I am the victim but where is the sense of justice

I had my vengeance but where is my peace

All debts been collected yet trouble won’t cease

Tell me God Above, what did my spirit miss?

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.