This Ebb of Darkness 1 Deep yawning coming into focus your room a hole between walls another blur of the ceiling morning light accepting your awakening wondering what day it is searching a few moments for meaning and you stretch in a bed of only one familiar blanket and cold feet turning your stiff neck toward the window curtain open as always a hint of the still life calling outside sky of puffs of cloud over blue blending behind a bad city of sadness you want to cry but can't remember how and nothing would come out of it so why waste the energy and you rise a stiff stick of a man slow grinding your teeth a declaration of "I'm not dead yet!" 2 A laughing toilet waiting in the bathroom white porcelain cleaned somewhat with a week of writing poems for someone you don't know. 3 And you shove your skinny legs into old pants and walk barefoot to the peephole window glaring down three stories to the street littered with garbage in the gutters and stinking slick sidewalks children not playing but running for hiding places and free cookies from handouts from crooked hands. 4 Deep sigh deciding you're hungry now going downstairs past all the other losers locked in tombs with ears smashed against their doors tears in their eyes wondering why they can't help the emptiness even with the sunrise... 5 You won't quit brushing your teeth with no tooth paste smile still showing in the dark even with a crack in the mirror. 6 A crack quickly spreading into a top heavy internet with Jack the Ripper coming riding two motorcycles with a foot on each but you're good with it this ebb of darkness. 7 For you can survive almost any trick of the wicked which will eventually stumble and fall into their own dark spy holes. Excuse? We're in a country of top heavy pretenders... not understanding sooner or later someone is going to slap them down, stomp on their false teeth, and kick their tail down the street. They'll have to live with the rest of us... Seeing how we feel more than how they ever felt they with their fathers giving them a lousy excuse on trying to exterminate us. The Downward of Now Floating in the ocean swell a last wave and breath sunset prayer bubbles rising as I sink eyes closing sea deep my dreams heart beating echoes satisfying sleep I am one of those in the downward of now watering of tears burial at sea never reaching bottom riptide back home on shore coughing up hallucinations and a headache of dreams a rope tide around my ankle someone pulling me across the finish line. Stephen Jarrell Williams can be found on Twitter (X) @papapoet
Category Archives: CHAOS
Poetry from Wazed Abdullah
The Music In melodies of life, music's sweet embrace, The universal language, a boundless space. Notes weave stories, emotions they convey, In rhythm and rhyme, hearts find their own way. From symphonies grand to a songbird's sweet trill, Music's magic in silence, it can instill. With every chord played, a world comes alive, In eight simple lines, its power we derive. Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Artwork from Brian Barbeito (one of three sets)
Essay from Bakhora Bakhtiyorova
Future Leader girl of Uzbekistan
If a person sets a real goal, if his intention is good, he will definitely achieve what he thinks.”
Author of translations of more than 100 scientific journalistic articles, participant of about 50 international forums and conferences, delegate of the Malaysian Youth Summit, participant of the international summits of the “Juntos por las Letras” writer’s association of Argentina. , Candidate of the “Double Wing” award of Uzbekistan. International speaker of “Shishiulash Global Youth Club” of Bangladesh.
Bakhora Bakhtiyorova daughter of Asliddin, a 11th-grade student of the 84th general education school of the Payariq district of the Samarkand region. The district has achieved several achievements in the region, the republic, and the international arena.
In particular, Bakhora is a member of Pakistan’s “Women and Youth Organization for Education, Culture and Art. Ambassador. Global Ambassador Organization Argentina, New Zealand Leadership-based “Global Goodwill Ambassador 2023” India Foundation “Development of Technology Methods” .Member of Bangladesh’s global youth club “Shishiuluash” international organization. Member of The Kingdom of New Atlantic Heritage Organization. Member of Argentina’s “Juntos por las Letras” writer’s association from Uzbekistan.
Volunteer member of “Human rights” organization working in cooperation with “UNESCO”. Republic “Golden Wing” Association of Volunteers, member “Upward Growth forum” delegate.
Articles, Great Britain, Kenya, Washington,
Published in Argentina, India, Turkey, Washington, Uzbekistan.
In addition, Bakhora’s article was included in the anthology that was sold to 26 countries of the world.
Author Bakhora Bakhtiyorova
Future International journalist
Poetry from Jerry Langdon
An Unkindness They congregate in a sorrowful gale Holding mourning souls in mist-o-pale. Their callings, cawing; clawing ears. A dirge for all those forlorn tears. An unkindness of ravens surge Their saddened song does purge. Haunting as they remind of dismal days. Taunting they scream in the dreadful haze. Here does Death now call. Where the curtains make a final fall. Unkind is the Unkindness For Death knows no blindness. An Ember of Tomorrow's Sorrow Of all the sorrows my heart hath ever begotten There are few which in grave will then be forgotten. For over time I have passed many a threshold That have closed to wounds that have grown old. Still I have scars deep in my soul that fester and remind. Some of which the origin of the wounds I have yet to find. Phantom paper cuts of endless festering sorrow, Fears of a drear from a hopefully distant tomorrow. My monophobic thanatophobia paints a gloomy portrait Of a dystopia that haunts from a future unknown date. Death and I have carried this platonic affair since I remember; Which is evermore but a faint glowing ember. I fear when that sorrow becomes a flame. When that ember burns with her name. From South-Western, Michigan, Jerry Langdon lives in Germany since the early 90's. He is an Artist and Poet. His works bathe in a darker side of emotion and fantasy. He has released five books of Poetry titled "Temperate Darkness an Behind the Twilight Veil", “Death and other cold things” “Rollercoaster Heart” and “Frosted Dreams” Jerry is also the editor and publisher of the literary magazine Raven Cage Zine poetry and prose. His poetic inspirations are derived from poets such as Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As well as from various Rock Bands. His apparently twisted mind, twists and intertwines fantasy with reality.
Poetry from Mahbub Alam
The Play of Politics Is politics only a play or game? A play between a snake and a weasel Or a tiger and a deer The ruling and the opposition party A continuous process over time and place A struggle for power and pelf In the name of democracy, the commoners cheated But who wins the race? Nature - set up with its own beauty and style We cannot but charm to look at the sight It is the twenty four hours round system On the other side What do we do for democracy? After a long line of death, a government takes place System built, system violated In this dire situation, so much blood shed The experiences we gather break the heart Time opens its gate for some Time takes some confined to bed Politics runs with the toes of tigers or lions Lambs and deer run so fast to escape. Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh 28 October, 2023 Flash Flood and Firing It was no rainfall last year here Too hot in the summer in this year than so many years last Nowadays it scarcely rains in the rainy season When it rains, rains days together As the meteor shower in the atmosphere at the clear night sky The warmth makes the body of the earth sometimes imbalanced It burns somewhere in the forest The animals turn into like the burning coal in the fireplace Again flash flood without any precaution Inundates the homes and the croplands for sudden rainfall Or melting the iceberg leaving hundreds and thousands of people In hunger, suffering from many diseases How can we protect the world from being destroyed day by day? Though so many meetings are called every year Is there any result? Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh 29 October, 2023
Poetry from Terna Nicholas
WISH Wish to see that expected day; A day of great happenings to come In a harmonious strain of goodness. Truly, I await to see that day! Wish to see all bad days fade away With darkness and all its gifts No more to be seen when light Takes the reign at its hour of demise. Oh! How I wish to be in the upcoming, To tell how it began Never to go back to the past, To let bad memories be by gone. Oh! I wish the intellects to be eminent To change the world with a touch of inspiring ideas, Destroying and healing her wounds with remedies All to end up in the bosom of eternal paradise.