———————————————————————

nightmare after nightmare

the holidays…

where some people

drown themselves

in nostalgia

where those of us

that grew up in

dysfunctional

families

get to relive nightmare

after nightmare

what i tend to think

about when the holidays

come around is my

father’s father

i never got to meet

him

he committed suicide

three years after my

father was born

as i have grown older

i can’t help but think

he was probably the

smartest man ever

to live

—————————————————————

sunk into the creases of existence

pride will kill

you faster than

any disease

i was told that

long before i

could understand

what it meant

fast forward to

a bad back, arthritis

head to toe, apathy

racing through the

veins and i’m pretty

sure i’m an expert

by now

the dreams of exploring

the world and becoming

a legend died in my

twenties

and before life

simply became

a battle between

bottles of lotion

and liquor

i had sunk into

the creases of

existence

laughing in the

shadows

pretending that any

of this had meaning

empty and broken

pride no longer exists

i suppose now it

is up to the disease

————————————————————————

that tempting myth

the bitter taste of defeat

the sad songs of christmas

always hit the hardest

love, that tempting myth

so many miles away

like water in a world

of concrete

and here comes the

neon of the season

joy wrapped up

in a bundle of

greed

these are the moments

where i wish i could

sleep more than four

hours a day

they tell me all these

things that will happen

when you die

i laugh

i tend to think nothing

will happen

and if it does

i won’t have much

say about it, being

dead and all

—————————————————————

chaos and bewilderment

a paper cut that won’t

stop bleeding

a sign that the end

is near

must be the most

beautiful time

of the year

hot enough on christmas

to be wearing shorts

i suppose this is the future

we have all been running

from

chaos and bewilderment

i believe that is a drink

i made by mistake in

my teenage years

i haven’t closed a bar

in a couple of decades

now

that probably held off

a disease or two

the sound of darlene love

will put me to sleep tonight

solitude on christmas never

felt right, just what i had

still time for that to change

but not as long as i would

like

—————————————————————-

where they came from

a buddy i used

to work with

said one night

that the problem

with the world is

men spend their

whole damn lives

trying to get back

in where they

came from

everyone laughed

and i took another

drag from a cigarette

i said dan, explain

this to me

i was a c-section

he laughed

and said hope you

won’t be lonely

forever

fucker…

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Crossroads Magazine, The Rye Whiskey Review and Yellow Mama. You can find him most days at home in Ohio taking care of his disabled mother and betting on sports. Most people will say he’s okay at both, most days. He does still have a blog, evil delights, but rarely has the time to write on it. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

The Soaring Eagle                                  

A flock of crows in dark disguise,

With jealous hearts and spiteful cries,

Ascend to claw the eagle’s flight

But falter in the blinding light.

They do not know how high he flies,

Nor see the wisdom in his eyes.

They grasp not purpose, strength, or grace

They only chase what they can’t face.

The eagle climbs in silent might,

Riding winds to endless height.

The crows grow tired, drop one by one,

Their foolish game is lost and done.

A noble soul, so pure and wide,

Will never drift with envy’s tide.

It walks alone, but walks with fire

On paths that reach forever higher.

You are the eagle, calm and wise,

Above the noise, above the lies.

You do not fight with birds below;

Your silence says what words can’t show.

No answer to their bitter breath,

No counter to their rage or death.

You rise instead beyond their call,

Where only quiet skies enthrall.

They shriek and flail, they mock and sneer,

But all dissolve when you draw near.

And with compassion, not with pride,

You watch them fall, and gently glide.

The sky is vast, the stars are few

Not all who flap can follow through.

So now I ask, with heart made true

Where do your wings carry you?

And where does your spirit settle into?

Poet Dr. Kang, Byeong-Cheol is a Korean author and poet, born in Jeju City, South Korea, in 1964. He began writing in 1993, publishing his first short story, “Song of Shuba,” at the age of twenty-nine. He released a collection of short stories in 2005 and has since won eight literature awards and published more than twelve books. From 2009 to 2014, he served as a member of The Writers in Prison Committee (WiPC) of PEN International. Additionally, he worked as an editorial writer for JeminIlbo, a newspaper in Jeju City, Korea. He holds a PhD in Political Science and currently serves as the Vice President of The Korean Institute for Peace and Cooperation and vice president of Jeju PEN. Moreover, he holds the position of founding President of the Korean Association of World Literature.

Wacky New Year to You!

Wham, bam, slam,

Right to the jaw,

Left to the gut,

Wild haymaker and

Bloody New Years nose,

            It’s Peru,

And fist fight catharsis

Clears the air

            For the next 365 days!

Somewhere in history,

Some anonymous genius

            Noticed seasons,

            The cycles of seasons,

And dubbed each

            A year—

 A measurement

            For our lives.

With that,

World-wide imagination

            Kicked in:

Old year, new year;

New year, future;

            New year, hope!

Tradition!

                        Party!

And so the Irish throw

            Bread against walls,

Ecuador burns scarecrows–

            And photos,

Japan smiles, ringing bells

            108 times.

The Swiss drop ice cream,

Thais throw water buckets,

The French eat pancakes,

Russians plant tree trunks

At the bottom

                        of frozen lakes.

Colombians lug

                        Empty suitcases,                

Brazilians jump seven waves,

Estonians eat seven meals,

While Danes hurl

                        Plates and pottery

            At friends’ front doors.

The Brits’ “First Footing”

Welcomes a dark-haired man

            Bearing midnight gifts,

Crazy Scots swing sticks

Stuck to blazing fireballs,

While in the Philippines,

            And Mexico,

All change underwear—

            White for peace,

            Gold for wealth,

Red, of course, for love

            In the new, new year!

Yet in America,

            We keep it simple:

Remember Dick Clark,

                        Watch a ball drop, Kiss.

Then sing Auld Lang Syne

            At the top of our lungs,

Raise many a cup o’ kindness,

Leave our undies

                        Publicly in place,

And have

                        A Happy New Year!

                        Bruce Roberts

            2015— New Years Eve

                                                                                                                        36                             

1. 风的家‖张天岳（毓秀小学）

风的家在田野里，

风一回家，

稻谷们就开心地左摇右摆。

风的家在森林里，

风一回家，

大树们就规规矩矩地鞠躬。

 1. The Wind’s Home ‖ Zhang Tianyue (Yuxiu Primary School)

The wind’s home is in the fields;

When the wind comes home,

The rice plants sway happily left and right.

The wind’s home is in the forest;

When the wind comes home,

The big trees bow politely one by one.

2. 夜深了‖辛婉怡（毓秀小学）

夜深了

大地也安静下来了

听，虫儿在唱歌

看，星星在眨眼

闻，花儿在暗暗飘香

夜深了

小宝贝听着歌谣

沉沉地睡去了

只留下妈妈

在台灯下织毛衣的身影

 2. Night Falls ‖ Xin Wanyi (Yuxiu Primary School)

Night falls,

The earth calms down too.

Listen, the insects are singing;

Look, the stars are blinking;

Smell, the flowers are quietly fragrant.

Night falls,

The little baby listens to lullabies,

Falls into a deep sleep.

Only Mom remains,

Her figure knitting sweaters by the desk lamp.

3. 梦想‖侯峻熙（毓秀小学）

梦想在世界跑来跑去

像奔跑的运动员

一路来来回回穿梭

一直到成功的尽头

 3. Dream ‖ Hou Junxi (Yuxiu Primary School)

Dreams run around the world,

Like running athletes,

Shuttling back and forth all the way,

Until the end of success.

4. 风弟弟‖侯峻熙（毓秀小学）

顽皮的风弟弟

吹倒了妈妈的花瓶

里面满满的幸福和温暖

都洒满了整个世界

 4. Little Brother Wind ‖ Hou Junxi (Yuxiu Primary School)

Naughty Little Brother Wind

Knocked over Mom’s vase.

The full happiness and warmth inside

Spilled all over the world.

5. 时间‖裴熙月（毓秀小学）

时间

是一只可爱的小白兔

它在岁月的长河里奔跑

我一回头

它已经跑远了

时间

是一列行驶的火车

我还没来得及看风景

它已经开到下一个站台

5. Time ‖ Pei Xiyue (Yuxiu Primary School)

Time

Is a cute little white rabbit.

It runs in the long river of years;

When I turn back,

It has already run far away.

Time

Is a moving train.

Before I can enjoy the scenery,

It has arrived at the next platform.

6. 星星的学校

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 吉柯冉 9岁

星星的学校

在月亮住的地方

他们有一群一群的伙伴

月亮老师有时教写字

有时教算数

有时教唱歌

他们拍拍小手放学了

太阳公公

把他们接回家

关上门做功课

 6. The Stars’ School

Ji Keran, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

The stars’ school

is where the moon lives.

They have groups of friends.

Teacher Moon sometimes teaches writing,

sometimes math,

sometimes singing.

They clap their little hands and finish school.

Grandpa Sun

comes to take them home,

and they close the door to do their homework.

7. 翘起的头发

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 刘怡杉 9岁

头发和发圈吵架了

发圈一扎头发

头发就生气地跑开

生气了还不好哄

小嘴巴撅得高高的

 7. The Sticking-Up Hair

Liu Yishan, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Hair and the hair tie had a fight.

As soon as the hair tie tries to hold the hair,

the hair runs away in anger.

Once angry, it’s hard to soothe—

it pouts its little “mouth” high up.

8. 雪的朋友

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 张家行 9岁

雪和北风

是一对好朋友

雪一下

风就吹

他们飘来飘去

闹着玩

小朋友也是

雪的好朋友

雪一下

小朋友就笑

打雪仗

堆雪人

扔雪球

 8. Snow’s Friends

Zhang Jiaxing, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Snow and the north wind

are good friends.

When snow falls,

the wind blows.

They drift around,

playing tricks.

Children are also

snow’s good friends.

When snow falls,

children laugh,

having snowball fights,

building snowmen,

throwing snowballs.

9. 小草的学校

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛若彤 9岁

春天教小草们长高

淋几滴春雨

他们长得更高了

春风走过

小草们开始跳舞、狂欢

春天老师躲在天空的云朵上

看着他们上自习

 9. The Grass’s School

Xue Ruotong, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Spring teaches the grass to grow tall.

A few drops of spring rain,

and they grow even taller.

When the spring wind passes by,

the grass starts dancing and celebrating wildly.

Teacher Spring hides in the clouds in the sky,

watching them study on their own.

10. 春天的闹钟

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛家硕 9岁

春天来了

我还在梦中

美丽的花悄悄地开了

小蜜蜂飞到花上

用它的小手拨弄着花钟

滴答滴答

我被春天的闹钟吵醒了

 10. Spring’s Alarm Clock

Xue Jiashuo, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Spring has come,

but I’m still in my dream.

Beautiful flowers bloom quietly.

Little bees fly to the flowers,

tinkering with the flower clocks with their little hands.

Tick-tock, tick-tock—

I’m woken up by spring’s alarm clock.

11. 棉花糖

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 裴晨宇 9岁

冬天在吆喝

棉花糖，棉花糖

我跑出去

舔了一大口

凉凉的棉花糖在胃里

甜甜地抱住我

11. Cotton Candy

Pei Chenyu, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Winter is shouting,

“Cotton candy! Cotton candy!”

I run outside

and take a big lick.

The cold cotton candy is in my stomach,

hugging me sweetly.

12. 云朵

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 李忆佳 9岁

云朵伤心了

哗哗哗

眼泪直掉

太阳跑出来安慰它

给它变出一个彩虹

云朵开心地笑了

12. Clouds

Li Yijia, 9, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

The cloud is sad—

whoosh, whoosh, whoosh,

tears keep falling.

The sun runs out to comfort it,

making a rainbow for it.

The cloud smiles happily.

Storijaesoehae

the man was there inside the dream but couldn’t be seen, and I wondered after if he was part of a dream or a spirit. maybe I won’t know or maybe I will try and find out through the Akashic, the record that always documents all things everywhere about everybody. He had senility and I said to the lady, ‘I should check on him as he has wandered but would like to address him out of respect by his name.’

‘The name is Storijaesoehae.’

‘What?’

‘Say it. You can say it. And say all the vowels.’

I went to the room down the hall and just called him ‘Sir.’ He was okay. Awake. Sitting. He looked to me like an older Gurdjieff, the strange mystical teacher, or William Saroyan the writer, again, in pictures of him as older. 

then I left the doorway, and I wondered later if he was real or imagined. I thought of him as a spiritual father of the woman, a concept I’d not heard of but might have existed. she knew his name after all. 

whatever was true, they had called for a wind and snowstorm, and they were correct as it was all crashing w/confidence against the upper windows by then. The forecasts also said this one was going to be bad, worse than usual, and were issuing weather warnings. 

I looked outside and took a deep breath, thinking, nearly always thinking…too mercurial for many reasons, mainly the star I was born under. The snow and wind increased and there was a whistle in the air, a whistle like some spirit from a novel or something. You have heard this whistle if you think about it for a moment. 

Let it all happen, I figured, for if it’s going to be winter let it be winter proper. 

____

Letter from open palms

You are an experience
that shivers away from my outstretched hands.
Dances upon my fingers, teasing me,
“I am something you will never have.”
Pulls on my arteries telling me,
“you are nothing. Nothing at all.”
Bruises the walls of my mind, tormenting me
with its laughter, singing, yelling, crying–
I am left with my blankets in the middle of the night,
looking to the figure past the glass
who says nothing,
nothing at all.

without Shame

In the absence of my cramping hands,
I run like a deer, no worries of headlights,
no Shame in my freedom.
I soak up sunlight like a sponge,
much more than what is necessary,
no Shame in my gluttony.
I let words spill out like tiny waterfalls,
no Shame in my impulsivity.
Whether that be good or bad is not up to me;
whether Shame be good or bad is not up to me.
Still, I am guilt-ridden,
I can only close my eyes and
think of a world without Shame.

The Intersection of Combinatorics and Biological Systems: A Computational and Molecular Analysis

Abstract

This paper explores the fundamental role of discrete mathematics, specifically combinatorics, in understanding biological structures. From the quaternary logic of DNA to the complex folding patterns of proteins, combinatorial optimization provides the necessary framework for modern bioinformatics. We analyze the mathematical constraints of the genetic code, De Bruijn graphs in genome assembly, and the combinatorial explosion in phylogenetics.

1. Introduction: The Digitization of Biology

Modern biology has transitioned from a descriptive science to an information science. The biological cell functions as a complex information processor where discrete units (nucleotides and amino acids) are arranged in specific sequences. Combinatorics, the study of counting, arrangement, and permutation, provides the language to decode this information.

2. Combinatorial Logic of the Genetic Code

The most striking example of combinatorics in nature is the triplet codon system.

2.1. Permutations with Repetitions

The DNA alphabet consists of four bases: \mathcal{A} = \{A, C, G, T\}. To code for 20 essential amino acids, the sequence length n must satisfy the condition 4^n \geq 20.

If n=2, then 4^2 = 16 (Insufficient).

If n=3, then 4^3 = 64 (Sufficient).

This redundancy (64 codons for 20 acids) allows for synonymous mutations, providing a combinatorial buffer against genetic errors.

3. Graph Theory and Genome Assembly

In DNA sequencing (Next-Generation Sequencing), the laboratory can only read short fragments (reads). Reconstructing the full genome is a combinatorial puzzle.

3.1. De Bruijn Graphs

To assemble a genome, bioinformaticians use De Bruijn graphs where:

Nodes represent (k-1)-mers.

Edges represent k-mers.

The problem of finding the original DNA sequence is transformed into finding an Eulerian Path (visiting every edge exactly once) within this massive graph. This reduces the complexity of searching through n! possible permutations of fragments.

4. Combinatorial Explosion in Phylogenetics

Phylogenetics aims to reconstruct the evolutionary tree of life. However, as the number of species (n) increases, the number of possible tree topologies grows factorially.

My name is Shahlo Rustamova, daughter of Ilhkom, a passionate and ambitious student born on June 8, 2007, in Shakhrisabz district, Kashkadarya Region, Uzbekistan! 

I am currently a first year student of Shahrisabz State Pedagogical Institute on the basis of a state grant. I have earned several educational grants and awards, and I am an owner of national Biology certificate.  

With a deep interest in leadership, public speaking, and writing, I continue to work hard toward achieving academic excellence and inspiring others in my community.