Essay from Azamova Kumushoy Akramjon qizi

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

Modern Science and Its Role in Society
Scientific Supervisor Abdullajonova Shakhnoza Qudratovna
Kokand University, Andijan Branch, Department of Foreign Languages, English Teacher
Azamova Kumushoy Akramjon qizi

KUAF Elementary Education, Distance Learning, 2nd Year, Student 24.03

Abstract: This article provides a comprehensive analysis of the formation and development of modern science and its role in societal progress. It substantiates that scientific and technological
advancement is a key factor in enhancing economic competitiveness, fostering innovation-driven development, improving the quality of education, and ensuring social well-being across various sectors of human life. Particular attention is given to the impact of globalization and digitalization on scientific research, as well as to the contribution of modern science to addressing contemporary social challenges and shaping the knowledge-based economy.

Keywords: modern science, social development, scientific and technological progress, innovation- driven development, digitalization, globalization, knowledge-based economy.

Introduction
The 21st century is distinguished by the unparalleled importance of science and technology in the development of humanity. Modern science deeply permeates all spheres of societal life, emerging as
a key driving force in ensuring economic growth, social stability, quality of education, healthcare systems, and human well-being. The processes of globalization and digitalization accelerate the rapid
dissemination and practical application of scientific knowledge, shaping a new stage of societal development.

Science is no longer just a collection of theoretical knowledge but also serves as a practical tool aimed at solving societal problems. Innovative technologies, artificial intelligence, biotechnology, information-communication systems, and ecological research are the main directions of modern science, serving to enhance economic competitiveness, create new jobs, and ensure social equality. At the same time, the advancement of science also presents new responsibilities and challenges to society. The rational use of scientific achievements, adherence to ethical norms, and a deep understanding of the interdependence between science and society are of great importance. From this perspective, a scientifically grounded analysis of the role and impact of modern science in society is a relevant issue. The main objective of this research is to comprehensively analyze the impact of modern scientific development on societal progress, determine the socio-economic significance of scientific-technical advancement, and scientifically substantiate the interrelationships between science and society.

Research Methodology

This research process was conducted based on a systematic and comprehensive methodological approach. Qualitative and quantitative analysis elements were integrated to thoroughly study the role of modern science in society. Firstly, the method of scientific literature analysis was applied, studying local and international scientific sources, monographs, scientific articles, and reports of international organizations dedicated to issues of modern science, scientific-technical progress, and societal development. This analysis helped identify the main development directions and theoretical
approaches of science. Secondly, the comparative method was used to compare the impact of science and technology on societal development in different countries and regions. Using examples
of developed and developing countries, the impact of scientific potential on economic growth and social well-being was analyzed. Thirdly, analytical and generalizing methods were employed to
systematize the economic, social, and cultural aspects of scientific-technical progress in society and draw key conclusions. Additionally, the impact of globalization and digitalization processes on scientific activity was separately analyzed. Furthermore, using logical analysis and scientific forecasting methods, the future prospects of scientific development in society were evaluated. The chosen methodology allowed achieving the research objective and conducting an in-depth analysis of the interdependence between science and society.

Review of Literature Used
The literature used in this research illuminates the issue of the impact of modern science on societal development from various perspectives. Analysis of foreign and local sources shows that scientific- technical progress directly influences economic, social, and cultural spheres. UNESCO (2023) and OECD (2022) reports analyze the role of science in sustainable development within the context of globalization and digitalization, serving as a basis for identifying issues of globalization and science integration in this research.

Statistical data from the State Statistics Committee of the Republic of
Uzbekistan (2024) enabled the assessment of the economic and social impact of science at the national level. Scholars such as Freeman and Louçã (2001), Ziman (2000), and Merton (1973) theoretically explain the interdependence between science and society and clarify the impact of scientific achievements on economic and social efficiency. The research by Etzkowitz and Leydesdorff (2000) analyzes the “Triple Helix” model of university-industry-government collaboration, demonstrating the strategic role of science in innovative development. Additionally, R&D Magazine (2022) reports enabled the assessment of countries’ competitiveness by comparing global innovation indexes and scientific capacity indicators. Based on these sources, the research systematically identified the impact of science on economic growth, social stability, and cultural development.

Overall, the literature used not only strengthened the theoretical basis of the research but also enabled a comprehensive analysis of the role and importance of modern science in society. With the
help of these sources, scientific results were compared in international and local contexts, ensuring the scientific validity of the research.

Analysis and Results
The research results show that modern science significantly impacts various aspects of societal development.

Economic Impact: According to the analysis results, scientific-technical achievements increase production efficiency and reduce costs in enterprises. The implementation of artificial intelligence and
digital technologies serves to create new jobs and stimulate innovative development. Comparative analysis shows that in developed countries, the impact of scientific development on economic growth is significantly higher (20–30% difference) compared to developing countries.
Social Impact: Scientific achievements in biotechnology and healthcare help improve the population’s standard of living and health indicators. The implementation of pedagogical and
educational technologies contributes to improving the quality of education.
Cultural and Ethical Impact: Scientific achievements influence the development of ethical values and cultural norms in society. The processes of globalization and digitalization ensure the rapid
dissemination and practical application of scientific knowledge, which strengthens the scientific capacity of society. The analysis shows that the interdependence between science and society is complex and multifaceted. Science not only ensures economic efficiency and social stability but also contributes to cultural and ethical development. At the same time, the irrational use of scientific
achievements or non-compliance with ethical norms can exacerbate social problems.

Conclusion
The research results show that modern science plays a crucial role in all spheres of societal development. Scientific-technical achievements increase economic efficiency, create new jobs, and
contribute to the development of education and healthcare systems. At the same time, science also influences the formation of cultural values, ethical norms, and ecological responsibility in society. The
research determined that:

· The interdependence between science and society is complex and multifaceted, holding strategic importance for sustainable development.
· The rational use of scientific achievements and their practical application in accordance with societal needs are key factors in ensuring future competitiveness and prosperity.

Overall, modern science is the main driving force of societal progress, and its development holds decisive importance in ensuring socio-economic stability, cultural advancement, and human well-being.

Overall, modern science is the main driving force of societal progress, and its development holds decisive importance in ensuring socio-economic stability, cultural advancement, and human well-
being.

References

Science, Technology and Innovation for Sustainable Development. – Paris: UNESCO Publishing, 2023.
State Statistics Committee of the Republic of Uzbekistan. Statistical Yearbook of Uzbekistan. Tashkent: SSC Publications, 2024.
The Impact of Science and Technology on Society. – Paris: OECD Publishing, 2022.
Freeman, C., & Louçã, F. As Time Goes By: From the Industrial Revolutions to the Information Revolution. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
Ziman, J. Real Science: What It Is, and What It Means. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.
Etzkowitz, H., & Leydesdorff, L. The dynamics of innovation: From national systems and “Mode 2” to a triple helix of university–industry–government relations. Research Policy, 2000, pp. 109–123.
R&D Magazine. Global Innovation Index. New York: R&D World Publications, 2022.
Merton, R. K. The Sociology of Science: Theoretical and Empirical Investigations. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1973.

Poetry from Gaurav Ojha

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

South Asian young man with dark hair and a dark suit coat and sweater.

Who Will Fly Us This Time?

Gaurav Ojha

Winds howl from the north

Hurricanes rumble from the south

As the butterfly flutters in some la-la land

Thunder and lightning turn their havoc on

What gets triggered cannot be undone

Anger fuels the fire and lets it burn

There are traitors among us

Hiding within the crowds

They told us to pick up stones

To wound our own heads

After those flames and smokes

We were only left with the ashes to recollected

Is there a spark left to reignite?

Has the experiment failed?

Are we getting dumped into the dustbin again?

What if another storm is coming?

Carrying the gush of dishonesty and despair

What would happen to our freedom?

As the soft rain washes young blood from the street

Do they even know why they have died?

What kind of burden do they want us to carry?

Are we the sheep as we were?

In between old and new

What about those rebellions

Where wretches were sacrificed in the feast

Prepared by jackals for their wolf

The lion kept on roaring from the zoo

But the master knew how to keep his dogs happy with bones

Everything changed for the same thing to return

Can the Lucifer restore glory to this lost Shangri-La?

What if his dark glasses can’t find the vision?

Will the clown get up and perform on the stage again?

Jokers are ready to follow in the footsteps

Our red stars have fallen cold

And the sun doesn’t even have its shadows

But the bells of the temple are bustling

After the ritual of fire, smoke, ashes and sacrifice

Are we still searching for the way from one hell to another?

Who will find our golden calf that has gone astray?

For a nation without ideals

Grass remains green on the other side.

Beggars have no choice, they say

Like a kite hovering over an unknown horizon

What a monstrous torture

Who will fly us this time?

Oh! Generation of fire and zeal

Don’t let them crawl back

With the promises that resemble a hoax

Revolutions where pawns die for their savior

Listen to what they don’t say

Say what? They don’t want to listen

To the kings, queens, and those who remain unspoken

With their enchanters and bandwagons

Horses, donkeys, camels and ministers

They will weave their magic, play out their tricks

But don’t let them turn your hopes

Into just another circus

(Gaurav Ojha is a faculty member specializing in communication, critical thinking, management, and research at various educational institutions in the Kathmandu Valley. As part of his creative pursuits, Mr. Ojha regularly publishes opinion pieces, poems, and non-fiction articles covering a wide range of topics, including death, disease, social issues, humanism, and spirituality.)

Artwork from Jerrice J. Baptiste

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

Smiling young middle aged Black woman with long white earrings and a green top.

Watercolor of two women facing each other, one with red hair and the other black, in tank tops standing in the ocean.

Two women facing forward, one with black hair and the other blonde, in colorful summer dresses. The one with dark hair is holding up the head of the redhead.

Are Cherries in Bloom?

Voice cracks, words tumble,

Would you be my friend?

She asks her in parking lot

of Heaven’s Garden.

Face flushes. Eyes squint.

A smile appears in corner

of her lips painted in rose,

deep center of magnolia.

She offers her a kind hand.

A conversation of streams

flowing, palm trees swaying

with breeze. Cherries to suckle.

Jerrice J Baptiste is a visual artist, poet, author of nine books. Her watercolor drawings on paper have been accepted or forthcoming in Synchronized Chaos, Las Laguna Art Gallery exhibit in California, MER, Spirit Fire Review, Jerry Jazz Musician Magazine. She’s presented her art work at The Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, NY in 2025. She’s been featured as a solo artist at The Mountain Top Library in Tannersville, NY in 2025 & 2026. Her most recent poetry book called Coral in the Diaspora is published by Abode Press in 2024. Her poetry has been published in numerous magazines and journals, Artemis Journal, The Yale Review, Mantis, Kosmos Journal and hundreds of others.

Poetry from Christopher Bernard

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

Señor Despaïr

Against a Hopeless Time

Sand, evening.

The silence of the steps
by the breathing shore
after the thing I believed too late.

The steps slip in and out of hearing
like a memory I cannot reach, a word
at the back of my mind
that will not come as I stumble
through fog hiding the sea and my shame
in a grayness I almost touch,
toward pilings that loom like the back of a crowd
in a dark theater as they wait for it to begin,
a dance to dazzle them
in cruel wordless patterns bound to something
almost holy.

A shining crow—
rara avis indeed here where sea gulls rant,
smudges of whiteness, quivering sandpipers,
and alcatrazes like cracked schists—the crow
starts up, cawing and strident.

“Do you see the patterns of the raindrops in the
sand?”
behind me a courtly, old-world voice seems to say.

“They call it random out of their mathematical
despair.”

The last word is spoken as if in Spanish: “des-pa-
eer.”
I turn to see a small, older man, smiling, attired
impeccably,
bizarrely formal for beach wear—perhaps an hidalgo
from Oaxaca, or a patrón
from the cultured banlieus of Buenos Aires—
in an old-time white suit, elegant
bolo tie, his hair and mustache groomed and white
as sea foam.
I half-imagine he has materialized from the sea.

“But we do not need to listen to them too closely:
we cannot build a life on the psychosis of physics.
If you follow any chain of logic to its end,
you end in madness.”

I almost thought he said
next: “The night
will rage with the storm,
the rain cuts like ice through the air.
Come, huddle in my arms.”
But no.
He stood there politely and spoke on,
his English lightly accented with Spanish.

“Listen to the wind—el viento!”
He paused. “The next blow will flatten us, no
doubt,
or if not, rip a hole in the sky
that will sink the world in the night like the sea.
It will be, as they say, very impressive!

“I cannot take much more of this, being
an old man, and yet I must,
foolish and weak as I am.
There is little tenderness because there is little
forgiveness.
I will pray to the night if I can find no other
god.
But I can find no other god—eh, what of that?”

He looks toward the waves still visible in the
dusk.
“ ‘Join us, join us!’ they call.

The darkness thickens around us, like a blanket.
I stare hypnotized like a snake at the old man.
He smiles more deeply, stares up at an invisible
sky
then lowers his strange eyes back to me.

“One day I was invited to a party—
there was much food and drink y música,
and beautiful and clever and friendly young folk,
and dancing
all night, and romantic corners just made for
kissing—
a wonderful party ‘where everyone is going,’ and I was guaranteed to have the time of my life.

“But there was one condition, of course (have you ever heard of a wonderful offering without a
condition?
After all, we live in a capitalist society!):
No one was allowed to leave the party alive.

“Everyone knew the condition? Of course we did;
we were not born, as you say so cleverly,
yesterday!
It was even written in capital letters at the top, bottom, and at elegantly spaced intervals across the invitation we each received in the postal mail
two weeks ago.

“But each of us was convinced
we would survive:
We would sneak out just before dawn,
when the death squads were scheduled to descend
on the silent household
where the partiers were lying about, dead to the
world or in restless dreams after the exhausting
night’s festivities,
and kill them all in their sleep.

“One or two are rumored to have escaped.
People constantly seek them:
they look into the face of everyone they meet,
hoping that maybe this one is a survivor.
I myself have been taken for such! I am certainly
old enough!

“May I ask you something?
Do you have a soul?
That thing that aches in the space you feel
somewhere behind your eyes
or hiding in the cavern of your chest;
that thrums with grief,
shakes with joy, makes you mad with love?

“You often wonder about that. I know this!
The scientists, those nihilistas,
are almost gleeful when they say they can’t find
any
prueba científica for it, so, like ghosts, fairies,
and God,
it must be dismissed with the condescending doubt
one gives idiotas, the uneducated,
and Republicans!

“The soul, they say,
is nothing but . . . is nothing but . . . is
nothing,
nada, though you feel it is
todo—everything.

“It is not unlike this, which they say is the size
of the heart.”
He raises his fist and looks at it
almost with admiration.

“It can build a city, it can kill
a rattlesnake. It can shoot a president!
It may be nothing, but it is a nothing that can
make nothing
of everything. Remember that,
my physicist, biologist, economist, psychologist, psychiatrist, capitalist, Antichrist . . .

“Did I say that? I did not say that—erase it from
your mind.
It was not said, it was not heard or thought.
The truth will set you free
por nada. It opens the prison cell
to reveal la prisión infinita outside.”

The old man pauses and locks my eyes in his
in the darkness as it tightens softly around us.

“You think me un viejo loco,
scrambled with drugs and too much tequila—'crazy in
the head!’—
or just a crank outdated, useless. And you are
right!

“It is better for you to think so, you who are
young,
however old you feel: Compared to me,
you are a child, and deserve to keep your innocence
a little longer
en las cadenas del mundo y del tiempo—
in, what do you call?—the chains of time and
the world,
as long, that is, as you are able to deny them
in the rage of your mind
and your strenuous will,
your pride and your fury
at the fate that world and time
are wreathing around your future,
the one you hope to defy
with a brilliant name across the air
that all may see, or none, that shouts out: estaba
aquí — I
was here!
Once, once only, irremovable
in the sun’s cold memory, para siempre.
Even if no one ever sees it again: it was,
eternamente, like an absolute
matchstick—un hombre: un fósforo eterno!

“So what shall we call it, for we must have a name
for it,
a word we can blame it on,
to give us the illusion of knowledge and power?

“‘El Reino des Perdidos'—‘The Kingdom of the
Lost’- I
first liked, then found
trillado, trite;
then ‘Ink on Coal’ before I found that too banal;
‘Despair’ was at the head for a week;
and even better: ‘Désespoir’—
before my crítico interno returned
and tossed that definitively down the pissoir!
‘An Enemy of the People’—now that is an honest
title!
But Ibsen used it,
and his fans can be unforgiving.
‘The Plot of the Homeless Sovereigns’ was a
desperate gesture only,
and ‘The Wilding Masters’ was an admission of
defeat.
We eventually settled on something ancient yet
unused,
direct, simple:
‘El viento y la noche’:
‘The Wind and the Night.’

“I remember how the sun rose then.
The throngs of clubbers staggered from a bar called
The End Up.
The heroes banked in a strange fire.
They bowed with a terribly earnest politeness.
It was damning: for only a murderous hatred
with a shot of blood and a pint of poison
to tickle the imagination could make a man glad.
Love be damned! It was hatred we wanted,
and the prospect of crushing an enemy.
Not the fact so much—the idea:
une jolie fantaisie, as the French say.

“The world is not content to destroy.
It must humiliate at the same stroke:
jeering, shame, and annihilation.
A goal worth pursuing, truly,
even if not realistic! Who knows,
next time we may get it right!
The Prince de ce monde will aid you if you are
patient and humble, and persevere: Perfect
destruction is as beautiful as perfect
creation—more rare and beautiful still!—
una perfección only those cast
into oblivion can ever know,
for only they are so far lost
there is no memory of them.
Like certain suicides:
a song, a drama, a dance,
in which realization, culmination, ruin
are one. Are one. Are one. Are one.

“Mi mundo era yo.
I was the world.
When I die, dies the universe—
the only universe I can know.

“I want to shout, ‘No! Never!’
but the futility of such words
suffocates them
even before they speak.”

The old man sighs, but seems
not to notice. Drunk on itself,
his voice patters on.

“But courage, my friend! Courage, defiance, and
wit:
a taste for metaphoros and phrase-making:
much can be made from this garden for growing
unos universos eternos y infinitos—
universes eternal and infinite!—
out of the humus, compost heap, trash,
of the prima materia of this world;
swelling like lotus blossoms out of the waste
and perfuming the morning with a wilderness sweetness
none—no, none!—could have hoped for or dreamed of,
a delicacy exquisite,
a living line, a profile of ivory
cut from a cloud: the hand of an angel
baffled, as it turns in the air,
by the beauty floating on emptiness
like waterlilies on a cold pond.

“And who is there to consider all this,
delight in its million brief enchantments,
its undomesticated glories,
its conquests and gentleness,
its random ecstasy and splendor,
its snuggling, cozy and quite comical smiles,
its mystery without end—
who but us, my friend? And a few
torn-winged angels
we no longer believe in, and a passel of other gods.”

The sun had set. I could see no more than the old man’s
shadow
against the black wall of the sea, from which the voice
emerged in the wash of waves.

“Despising este espectáculo extraño—this freak show!—
into which we were born
is a sign of good taste.

“For only pity sees the mask
breaking behind the brazen face
where fear fights with pride, grief
with insolence, folly with suspicion
carved, half from wisdom,
half from a refusal to look at the face
de la realidad: the human
spirit, part demon, part angel, part monkey—
a pretentious ape that invented God
and hell.

“But—you are right”—though I had said nothing.
“Even more foolish is bitterness,
though it cleanses the soul to let it out,
like a scrubbing with a little black soap and brimstone.
It feels nice to rant, half mad,
to say unjust and terrible things
to an innocent and long-suffering listener.
Like yourself, young señor! To hell (not
to use stronger language,
but I have some respect for your sensibilities,
which may not yet have been corrupted
by the fashion in profanity that is now all the rage,
young señor!) to hell with this, to hell with that,
to hell with it all!

“Wherever one looks, there is no matter,
and mind disappeared long ago
from every metaphysician’s backpack. No mind, no
matter,
just waves of energy crossing uncertain voids,
not even nothing underneath:
the only thing we know is words
that cannot even say it!

We must be careful,
my friend: only the select have ever heard me this far
(they usually run away!), either they are willing to be
corrupted
or they have an espíritus fuertes as antidote
for this poison before it kills their . . . souls. The rest
yawned off in droves: we have the fragrance to ourselves,
the sweet briny aroma
of truth.
(Sí sí! Esa palabra sucia! That dirty word!
Go, vete, foul escéptico académico!
Back, back! Where is my stake
to thrust through your black heart at dawn!
Where is my cross! The terrible count
must be destroyed so we may live in hope
of peace, if not happiness:
Truth is dead! Long live Truth!
For what are you,
my friend? A prince in exile, a monarch
on a burning throne.
Sí, mi amigo! I draw your face in ink on coal
against ashes and night.

“Do not be bitter (so I speak to myself); by all means, do
not be bitter;
you are not alone, cramped in your little cell
of body, time, brain—though one feels
lonely enough in the mob
of billions on this earth.

“They watch the same moon shrink and grow,
scrounge the sun’s seeds from the brittle earth
and stare, like you, at the blackness behind the stars—
that strangely comforting darkness.

“Unlock the gate a little late you closed
behind your heart after, like a horse, it fled!”

I raise my hands to my face in the darkness.
Somewhere someone is praying.
But only silence crosses my lips.

“Oh, mi niño . . . ,” the voice whispers.
“The heart’s fear masks its love.
Its hatred masks its munificence.”

Or do I only imagine it? “There is nothing to dispute,
no cause for quarrel—unless of course
your quarrel is with God! ‘He’s too big
for that,’ someone once said—and,
si, he had a point. And I rejoined:
Even a mouse in a corner fights
the cat!

“So what if he’s bigger than you? That means
you need to be more cunning than God—
like the one who reigns in the regions below!
Anyway, what could be simpler?
He need but give a clear and simple
reason for the world he has made,
and for putting us in the middle of it!

“Above all else:
We see through you! Do not think
you can hide behind the atheists. What a brilliant
ploy you thought that was! You do not exist!
Poof! You are now off the hook, and the nihilists
can go wreck the world between their bombs and bottom
lines.

“The devil’s cleverest trick was convincing us he was a
fable,
and now you’re trying it out on your own! Nice try,
o Señor!
You must have more on your conscience than I thought!”

The pause is washed with a blur of surf,
dimly white, like the old man’s moon-lit shadow.

“Humanity is a fiasco. Let us face it frankly.
Man is a bizarre accident (alas, woman also,
siento tener que decir—er, sorry to have to say!)—
and probably is alone in the cosmic chaos:
It’s just us and God! Two points of mind
and perverse will, one mortal, one inmortal—
talk about having nothing in common but thin skins
and a bad temper! Fourteen billion
years of grandstanding between them! What a farce!
Clowns performing for an audience of clowns!

“Am I being cruel? Have you gazed with unjaundiced eye
at your neighbors? At yourself? You are not the exception.
What goes on inside your head, en su corazón?
Dime, what do you see there? No, don’t tell me.
I have had enough despaïr for one evening.”

A gull, pulled from the passing wind, screams
through the night. It’s so dark, I cannot
see my hand in front of my face—
that is a true phrase.

“The truth,
which you believe does not exist, like God and the devil,
is testing his arrows at the edge of the universe,
that beige and brain-shaped cloud, before he notches
his bow. It will take less time than forever
to reach us, entangled as we are, like a ball
of yarn at the end of a kitten’s hijinks.
The claw is no less merciless for the sweetness
of the eyes of its owner. The world is lovely,
dark and deep. She is innocent and beautiful and ruthless.
Dime una mentira para que pueda volver
a dormir. Tell me a lie so I can sleep again.
Too many truths have burnt a hole in my brain!
I hear the silence of the arrow—el silencio de la flecha—
as it flies toward me . . .”
_____
Christopher Bernard’s most recent collection of poems is titled The Beauty of Matter, “A Pagan’s Verses for a Mystic Idler.” Señor Despaïr will be available in book form from Real Magazine Productions, a publisher based in India, later this year.

Poetry from Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

Nothing Matters

Help me understand
why nothing matters.
Repeatedly, I listen to
a joke that is not funny.

Maybe my ears do not
work. Maybe I am drunk,
too drunk, and my mind,

my poor mind is gone. I
could barely hear my own

thoughts. In my head
I hear dogs barking and
a tarantula dancing and
time beating backward.

I grow tired of sound. If
a tree falls, I cannot hear
it when I see it drop in
front of me. In my head
an orange sunset swallows
a burning plane whole.

I hear my heart racing.
I pretend my heart has
stopped. Believe me
that nothing matters.

When I think back, I
could never find my
footing. The ground
broke my fall. Above

the sky stood witness
all day and all of the night.

Kicking Stones

I will not go along
the road without kicking
stones that are in the way.
I kicked one so far that
it was not seen again.
I believe it went up
to the clouds. I think it
put a hole in the sun.
I believe it brought down
a satellite. The others
only exploded right
after I kicked them,
too brittle for this world.

Go Nowhere

If I could anywhere,
I want to go nowhere.
With these eyes as
my windows, I could
see far and wide.
I could see inside
myself. I could hear
everything I have
ever forgotten. I
can see the truth
which is basically
nothing depending
on what you believe.
I can see nowhere.
It is where I want to go.

See the Mountains

I was born where I could not

see the mountains from the

street I grew up from birth to

seven years of age. When I

moved across the border, I

saw rivers, places named after

words I did not understand,

and I saw the mountains from

the street where I lived. I had

to relearn the alphabet, to

learn the new words, the new

language I would use to fit in,

to get by, to make a life, a

living in this country. On a

bright early morning I saw

people who came to this

country like me, people who

worked hard to make a living,

to feed their family, being taken

away by masked goons. I could

see the mountains where I

stood. I wondered if I went there,

if I would be safer than living

in suburban or the urban streets.

My Suits

My suits have not been used for years.

They hang in the closet worn by a man

who was more slender in those times

the suit came off the hangar. My body

has transformed over the years, been

on the operating table, cut into to get

the cancer out to allow me to live one

more decade if the fates will allow. In

this daily existence I have measured

my steps, counted the minutes, and

worked at a mind-drudging job to pay

the bills, care for my family, and help

those less fortunate than me. My suits

gather dust, speechless, non-judgmental

in the same place I left them. I would

need to shed twenty, thirty, fifty pounds

to wear them well, to button at least

one button, or maybe two. My ties

have suffered from the same neglect.

Poetry from David Kokoette

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

REBEL – THE POEM

I have become the wretched of the earth

Like frantz fanon, I am persecuted

A subject of intentional discrimination

Judged by humans through the lenses of my creator

I hide in between the bushes

I seek asylum from Heaven

But no one answers

The sky watches, the earth witnesses

How do I advance?

I see yet i am blind

My intuition and wisdom is the strength

The wind and the morning breeze scares me

Water becomes like Poison

Food becomes like venomous

My life is one big battle

I have become a stepping stone

I have become a test subject for hatred

I have become like a lab rat

Like Hitler did Jews

The earth kills me……….

THEY HAVE ENTERED OBA’S PALACE

The revolution happened late at night

The monarch laid in sleep

The unskilled gained access to the factories

A great cry was heard as the place doors were broken

A thief from the street has mobilized its kind

The silk from India has become common

Like Mensa Musa’s accumulated wealth

The value of gold has dropped

Easy…. it comes

The unskilled has besieged the gateway of luxury

Everyone has a shot at the throne

Unskilled and an opportunist

The palace has been desecrated

Centuries of legacy has been soiled

The peek hole has become a full view

The guard screams……

They have entered the Oba’s palace

Poetry from Mandy Pistikou

Posted on 02/15/2026 by Synchronized Chaos

Young Italian woman with long dark curly hair, a small necklace, and a black top.

YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LOVE

I thought I knew how people love.
But I was mistaken.

While I was wandering, searching to find you,
you were walking the very same path—
pausing at different places,
treading the same ground,
searching too, just as desperately.

And when I found you, I believed
that I knew more about love than you,
that I would be the one to teach you
what it truly meant.

But I was wrong.

You taught me how people love!

Without ever speaking the words.
Without ever demanding a thing.

You taught me how to step outside
the castles I had fortified myself within,
how to shatter my foolish pride into pieces—
simply because standing beside you
was my only choice.

…..

The Handcuffs of Love

That night, you were beside me.
And I was proud to be at your side.

No one knew about us.
Nor did anyone care to know.

You were beside me, yet I could not touch you—
except with my eyes.
And you embraced me with yours—
protectively, claiming your place next to me,
unwilling to let anyone take it away.

Nor did I wish it so.

And though you had placed no handcuffs on me,
I was bound to you.

Then you followed me,
and you led me to the Palace of Love—
where you could fasten me with your own handcuffs,
as if you wished I would never leave your side.

“Release me!” I cried to you.
And you searched for a way to set me free.

Yet when you freed me,
I bound myself to you even tighter—
for you had managed to imprison
both my body and my soul,
with handcuffs I had locked myself.

….

INEVITABLE

Some say that people meet by chance in life.
That by chance they fall in love
and bind themselves by Fate’s own knot.

Parallel roads
that at some point finally converge.

And I wonder how all those that you desired
had already been mine,
long before I ever knew you.

Perhaps that is what made our union
something…
Inevitable.

…….

FAITH

I trusted you from the very first moment.
I believed in you—
even when my reason screamed for me to leave.

I believed in you,
as if I were a lost fragment of your soul.

I felt the cry of your heart,
even though you were silent,
even though you claimed you had settled.

Free hearts do not settle
for conventional bonds.
They crave openness. Growth. Play. Variety.

But more than anything,
they crave Faith—
as all things do.

It is faith that keeps the flame alive,
that makes it grow
even under adverse conditions.

And if it falters for a moment…
let it always smolder—
so that with a single breath of hope
it may return,
just as strong as before…

SYNCHRONIZED CHAOS

Interdisciplinary journal of art, music, culture, science & literature.

Category Archives: CHAOS

Essay from Azamova Kumushoy Akramjon qizi

Poetry from Gaurav Ojha

Artwork from Jerrice J. Baptiste

Poetry from Christopher Bernard

Poetry from Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Poetry from David Kokoette

Poetry from Mandy Pistikou

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