What Is the Opposite of Politics? A shift of rain in the trees. A snow globe in a sandbox. My cousin's scuffed knees. What is the cost of mercy? A spade of silent rust. You'll never know if justice is less refined than dust. Who is that fellow singing? I never knew his kind. You say he's rough and tender. I hope to live forever if heaven is his mind. _____ Christopher Bernard’s most recent book is A Socialist’s Garden of Verses, winner of a 2021 PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award and named one of the “100 Top Indie Books of 2021” by Kirkus Reviews. He is founder and a principal, with Ho Lin, Steven Hill, and Jonah Raskin, of the webzine Caveat Lector.
Category Archives: CHAOS
Essay from Z.I. Mahmud
American Literature And Its Borders Interwoven Themes of Homeland, Migrations and Deportation In Tennessee Williams’ Masterpiece Screenplay ‘A StreetCar Named Desire’ Brief Biography of the contributing author and symposium paper presenter: An undergraduate student of the English and Humanities Department affiliated with Brac University. The correspondent wishes to study English Literature with profundity as his majoring engrossment. ‘Synchronized Chaos’-American interdisciplinary journal, ‘Reader’s Digest Asia’, ‘Youth Magazine’ Libyan printed and electronic editions and varieties of Indian Literary Anthologies have treasured and glorified his narratives. Abstract Writing: Multifaceted charismatic character Blanche Dubois’ spectral specks hollers, lingers and muses amidst the epochs of twentieth century pandemic macabres. How ‘ruptures’ and ‘resilience’ will feed the lecture theater banquet hall with quintessential dialogues inversion as in the speech of Stanley and Blanche Dubois’ beauty of the mind, richness of the spirit and tenderness of the heart’s sustenance ;which have culminated through ‘relentlessness of times’, ‘sorrow’, ‘fear’, ‘recriminations’ and ‘regrets’. And how the gusto and oomps prevail in transforming stage actors as belligerent shoppers despite emerging pandemic. Phenomenal and mercurial Blanche Dubois’ catharsis hollering with the photograph on the mantelpiece as a reminiscence of her awesome memorabilia sunken treasures. In the abyss of wretchedness the patronage and legacy of endowments languishes the fulfillment of American Dreams. Her phantom haunts like a hobgoblin in theaters, brothels, asylums and rehabilitation centers amidst the epoch of twenty first century’s pandemic macabres. The purpose of this paper perhaps might be engrossed ‘raptures and resilience’ in the canons of psychoanalysis and feminist critical literary theories. However, I wish to spotlight the facets of ruptures and resilience in the ‘diasporic migrational drift’ of this stellar feminine character. We might wonder and marvel at the laurel lifelike character through digging her cherished suitcases, closets, attics, chests and whatsoever. In reality, she is not cynical or skeptic but hilarious and explosive; i.e. circumstances and implications foreshadowings of uncertainty, ambiguities and nihilism echoing resonance of ‘Samuel Beckett’s Waiting For Godot’s personified caricature Lucky. Unemployment crisis together with identity crisis have ironically fretted Tennessee William’s scapegoat to the menaces and diabolical: vicious cycles of life and death. Crumbling walks upon a lakeshore, dwindling with inglorious and inauspicious memories of the past; Tennessee Williams’ Blanche Dubois’ portrayal limelights her daylight shudders to night of endless darkness. And we are reminded by the tragic events of wartimes genocides, Holocaust survivors’ horror and terror, mass graveyard burials... Are they suffice and benefice to the interiority of split personality and schizophrenic Blanche Dubois and she is sensed as a resemblance of the dear sister. Siblinghood of fraternity can cast a glimmer of unraveling the sheerness of her identity. Through ruptures and resilience we will be stepping the stony gravel amidst an avalanche of unprecedented disruption and outbreak of pandemic. The lecture theater hallway by this gravity of the situations’ momentum will be drinking with thine eyes of eerie creature Blanche Dubois’ wit of impishness and caprice. In the prevalence of epidemics’ insurgency had the playwright twisted motifs and plots of what would be likely interpretations in fancy of will-o-the-wisp will foster food for thought in the banquet hall. Pathetic fallacy benignly fascinates the aura of imagery in the readers’ imaginative minds with the line, ‘ajar on a sky of summer brilliance’. Blanche utters a moaning cry and throws herself down away from the bathroom beside Stella in a sense of hysterical tenderness and chastises her for being fondling and affectionate to Stanley-brother-in-law and Stella’s brutish husband. Gaudy pajamas of Stanley hanging from the threshold of the bathroom and the act of Stella’s picking broom to sweeping, swirling and twirling as if idiosyncratically justifying the frenzied attitude and sheerness of absolute lunacy of Stanley. To Stella’s being Stanley’s defense solicitor, she argues to justify that the defamed Stanley being preyed upon by victimization on the pretext of the condition that ‘men drinking and playing poker can do anything[inverted dialect would be: ‘Since there's a blazing unemployment crisis from layoffs amidst lockdown, we, men are justified in wine toasting and billiard pastimes’}. Further like Stanley, Stella’s preoccupation and fancy with movies and bridges acquit the blamed Stanley free of stringent estrangement. “This shuffling about and mumbling-one smashed tube, beer-bottles, mess in the kitchen’’-as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened’’ This Blache’s quotable quote dramatizes the climax of the scene four with stupendous and stupefying humor, irony and sarcasm when paralleled with Stella’s counterfeit. “He [Stanley] snatched off one of my slippers and rushed about the place smashing the light-bulbs with it. ’’ Figurative tropes and figurative techniques have been embellishing the incredibly insightful read of this very scene with emerald treasures of metaphor, simile, personification and hyperbole. ‘He [Stanley] was as good as a lamb’ highlights the simile of Tennessee Williams in depiction of the naivety and innocence of Stanley Kowalski’s personae. Christmas Eve holiday seasons, Blanche Dubois’s gala with Shep Huntleigh- getting on his Cadillac Boulevard long drive touring through the dusky Biscayne Boulevard. Intimating college acquaintance character’s hyperbolic and metaphorical descriptions of personage, trip of investment since meeting ‘‘someone with a million dollar investment’’ and ‘the City of Texas’ literally ‘spouting gold in his pockets’’. Belle Reeve is a persisting hackneyed influence of Southern state of St Louis Mississippi Antebellum aristocracy with plantation of cotton and tobacco employing marginalized African American minority diaspora [ethnic community subjugated by oppressive and suppressive culture of exploitation through slavery]. However, post antebellum New Orleans and the Elysian Fields Kowalski villa the emerging absurdist playwright’s modernity plastic theater evidently becomes a thriving society to breed characters like Blanche Dubois. Blanche, the ‘destitute mammoth’ of Belle’s provision of pocket money, family allowance and public relief in the worst nightmarish Stanley household incites modern day contemporary readers with the paradigms of Blanche figure with morale as depicted by the illustrious repertoire of Stella upon extending five dollars share [from the ten dollars gifted by Stanley to smooth things over]. Blanche’s anachronistic bigotry is a striking prejudice; which, nevertheless, demarcates the reality of Stanley's appearance of character. Not a ‘‘particle’’ of ‘’gentleman in his nature’’ exhibit bestial and animalistic force of Stanley upon Blanche Dubois embarking brutal desire- “Desire!’’—that name of the rattle trap street car that bangs through the Quarter, up one old narrow street and down another….’’ Eventually climax and resolution of the drama have been showcased through the red letter day of Blanche Dubois’ trapped maidenhood at stake because of Stanley’s bestial interference in her privacy; and the subsequent admittance of the former’s to the mental health infirmary by the vigilance of Doctor and Nurse. Bathos; the ironic use of banality through hyperbolic exaggeration that results in the failure for satiric or humourous effects. ‘Egyptian Queen’ might and perhaps transcends allusions to ‘Desdemona’; yet Stanley- the king wearing silk pyjamas shirtless fulfills the illegitimate and adulterous affair of sexual gratification through rape of Blanche Dubois. Shep Huntleigh’s fantasy, sensory illusion and hallucinatory delusion, awkward fancy attire such as the rhinestone crown of Blanche -the ‘lurid’ reflections of ‘grotesque’ and ‘menacing’ ambience. Tragic heroine, Blanche dupes a vindictive claim in assertion of her chastity and virginity- “A cultivated woman, a woman of intelligence and breeding, can enrich a man’s life-immeasurably!’’ To herself, she boasts of her beauty of the mind, richness of the spirit and tenderness of the heart which increases to grow as ages reach maturity. This scene further highlights the identity crises and classes of diasporic cultures prevalent in post world war modern times. The tragic figure Blanche throws further light upon her lunacy as intimidating encounters with the Doctor and Nurse. “Oh, my God! What have I done to my sister’’-the loyal and devoted sisterly Stella Dubois’s sympathy and empathy coincides despite the triumphs of two brute forces between the clashes of different cultures. In the world of Stanley, a moth chameleon doesn’t exist. On the contrary, the world of Blanche has reservations for fantasy and magic and the abolition of reality. The breaking down of ‘silver mirror’ and the symbolic attire of ‘white satin robe’ manifests cataclysmic catastrophe that ruins the prospects of Blanche Dubois’ survival turning her as a destitute of the asylum. ‘Relentlessness of time’, ‘sorrow’, ’fear’, ’recriminations’, ‘regrets’ and so on by the reflections of “wrinkles’’ and ‘’bags of the eyes’’ casted upon her silvery mirror. Eminent Indian literary critics of noteworthy publication interpreted her depressive melancholy with ‘mental malady’. Imaginative fictional myths of mothlike figures aren’t tolerated in the Kowalskis' apartment. Therefore, bestial Stan disdains her upon fabrications of Sheep Huntleigh’s fantasy cruise to the Caribbean and Mitchell’s flower bouquet of apology. Minor characters are symbolic representations of Tennessee Williams’ A StreetCar Named Desire. Tennessee Williams will be endowed homage in his repertoire of symbolist movement. After the Mexican lady and here comes the symbolic Negro woman stealing the vanity bag of the drunk raped prostitute. In this anticipation, the desecrating robbing of Blanche’s privacy and honor by Stanley is embellished. Furthermore, the Western Union symbolically features the breakdown of civilization and cultural catechism. And the swelling music of the blue piano resonates comical relief meant to underscore the undergoing violence that is being penetrated on Blanche. Finally the drama witnesses anticlimax through the blue eyes of Allan Grey-the former deceased admirer remembrances by Blanche. Further Blanche’s epilogue ‘’Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers’’ leaves no stones unturned in foolishness of wits and impudence of lunacy. ‘Ruptures and Resiliency’ are entombed and enshrined by vessels of literature heralding the eminence and prominence of Tenessee Willaims’ brevity of theatrical production and lucidity in film adaptations. Dear audience, I proclaim in ecstasy of glee, “Ah, Tennessee Williams shall be unhackneyed dimestore even in context of quintessential evolutionary viral outbreaks.” The reportage of Guardian mesmerizes subscribers when they are tantalized by the iconic commentary of Gillian Anderson; whose claim “I was hanging on to a reality by a thread” whilst her shopping errands would be effervescent ether hadn’t she possessed the belligerence of mental strength.
Poetry from Chimezie Ihekuna

The Feel of Christmas Every day is a celebration day But on this day, it’s a Special Day; the feel is just not ordinary Every day is a merry-making day But on this day, it’s in itself a Merry Day; the feel is just not a ‘’normally’’ Every day is a reflection day But on this day, it’s a Stand-out, Sober-Reflection day; the feel is just not temporarily Every day is a gift-exchange day But on this day, it’s a memorable Boxing Day; the feel is just not materially Every day is a should-be ‘’Christmas’’ day But on this day, it’s actually a Christmas Day! the feel is just not a mere Christmas frenzy!
Essay by Ike Boat
Arti-Blog: Local To Global

Graciously, I developed the attitude and habit for listening to various radio #media organizations such as BBC, CVC, VOA, RCI, RFI just to mention a few. However, all occurred due to the enthusiasm for the short-wave of international transmissions. To be precise, whilst growing up as young curious teenager with eagerness to be a mimic of any elocution broadcaster I hear the accent-cadence on the airwaves. Incredibly, it’s rather an opportune moment when one preacher-man realized the potentials and capabilities in me after completion of second cycle school education. Therefore, he asked me to join his program on a particular radio station in the city of Takoradi where in actual fact my up-bringing began as young boy on the suburban street of Amanful West. It was additional value to unearth the other talent in me when I sung alongside a co-equal lady to record signature-tune for that memorable Christian program dubbed Power Word of Jesus on Radio Maxx 105.1 FM. These were all moments of discovery to establish myself from local to global level in terms of radio broadcasting which has definitely continued as passion and routine of daily lifestyle. It’s another enthusiastic and joyous moment as my presence in the broadcasting studio brought about regular decision as live introducer of the program on-air courtesy Radio Maxx 105.1 FM in the first locale in Takoradi, Western Region of Ghana. I quite remember, having the pleasure to say “It’s time for the Power Word of Jesus broadcast with Reverend Nyameyeke Wireku”. That’s really the first time of being behind a radio microphone which I never panicked but by His divine motivation I was able to deliver by speaking to the listening audience. That’s over fifteen (15) years ago!
Unfortunately, the program had a stoppage due to lack of sponsorship to continue airing. Well, it was yet another fantastic breakthrough moment as I became a time-keeper and chosen among others as producer of a Quiz program on different radio station i.e. (Kyzz 89.7 FM) located within the same metropolis of the Western Region, Ghana. Unto Him is all the glory as I ably coped with most acts of the program. Having, established and exhibited many technicalities in the broadcast studio of Kyzz 89.7 FM. Well later on, I was given another worthwhile opportunity as a panelist on rather quite debatable program dubbed Born To Win with its feminine host being cordial and professional. This went on for about five weeks, thus on Sundays when the Scripture-based quiz program entitled Radio Bible Quiz #RBQ comes to an end. Amongst other things, within the same locality or neighborhood where I domicile another radio station was established so often-times I went to the studio to assist during phone-in segment of a lunch-time program. Although, that station collapsed at the time, I never gave-up to become professional journal fellow. Thus, be it on-air or on-line! Much admiration have been absorbed within because I’ve had times of being a producer on diverse programs ranging from social to spiritual on numerous local radio stations. Aside, it’s been worthwhile experience and exposure to various media networks.
Remarkably, it’s through writing by post and typing on the internet that impressively opened the doors of opportunity for me to become abreast with most of the widely listened to global media power-houses. Obviously, some still appreciate the daily, weekly and even monthly contributions I make to their programs. In reminiscence, the launch of an affiliate international radio station in the Western Region of Ghana also rekindled my participation on interactive and debatable topic to mark International Women’s Day on 8th March, 2011. So, just imagine the feeling when your submission is short-listed or selected on top of various contributions for airing on a highly recognized radio stations around the globe. It’s yet another achievement of a sort to be admirable about! An impact-making moment of having the tendency to read my own composed poems for recording together with written articles was also a move on higher pedestal. Aside, to express views on some topical issues centered on African perspective. No doubt, that also paved the way in terms of familiarization and recognition among discerning listeners of radio with international appeal.
Currently, in relation to the new television concept as virtual #online TV show dubbed Time With Ike Boat #TWIB which commenced on the aftermath of brief audition at the Morrash Media House #MMH at Kasoa, Central Region of Ghana. It’s another quick move to ensure that the television dream becomes a reality, hence there’s pre-production led by the Manager and Producer, Sir Perry Adams. He’s such a gifted and talented media figure with insightful knowledge about music respectively. On the first ever live streaming on Facebook, graciously I hosted Madam Anna Cole an Entrepreneurial woman and Fashion Designer as well an expatriate of the United Kingdom. Moving on, the second episode had me alone in studio unfolding the ordeal I faced being hospitalized for weeks due to ailment, thus leading to various medical checks. It’s also time to express my heart of gratitude to all virtual and actual friends who helped the medical cost involved. However, the third Episode resonated with the personalized mantra Local To Global when I had the distinguished Director of MV Logos Hope in the personality of Mr. Randy Grebe (Missionary with Operation Mobilization-OM). This pre-recording and production was done at Tema Port onboard the vessels at VIP lounge. The web-link to watch, comment, Like, subscribe on YouTube via: https://youtu.be/oExbhBFrlY8
Last but not least, I can say with certainty and no shadow of doubt that many systematic approach to life and diversity people always makes it appropriate to share when the least opportunity is given. Factually, the first three paragraphs of this Arti-Blog had original concept written on paper 7th March, 2012 and completed as well re-written on 10th March, 2012 at 2:10pm. Indeed, it’s initially recorded as real-life radio documentary in a hood studio operated by Mr. Emmanuel Famiyeh at Amanful West in Takoradi, Western Region of Ghana, West Africa. Yes, it’s radio documentary centered on how my contribution and participation to local broadcasting led to the connection with some global journal minds, thus from country to country and continent to continent. Well, by virtue of on-air and on-line mediums of communication.
Yours In Local To Global Media.
Ike Boat
#SCIM #TWIB
Email: ikeboatofficial@gmail.com
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Poetry from Tony Brewer
All Green Thumbs You can trick a houseplant into believing it is outside by gently brushing your hand softly against the leaves bending the stems as if they are out in the breeze Strangers clustered in a strong wind at a stop waiting for the bus to come ____________________________ Battery Heaven Hard to tell batteries apart lying loose in a box in the back room The bad eventually crust over but there’s no way to determine the good without popping one then another into the remote Try a different pole Try rolling one then the other around with your thumb whatever it takes desperate for signal Get the angle right Get close enough & there is enough juice to get through tonight No negotiating with a spent cell but power predictions are possible & frequently wrong The pizza place in town that takes dead batteries has a slot in a 5 gallon bucket lid for them Who knows where they go from there Battery heaven is filled with cheapies that come with toys very obviously of lower quality than the ones bought at the store Do it wrong & kill a car The smoke detector cheeps until the corpse is removed Even the rechargeable don’t last forever ____________________________ My advice is to get out of this town before you turn 20 Otherwise the broken store fronts start to worry you You might transmogrify into a lamp post become a fixture around here Not like Gary who inherited the hardware from his dad George Bailey-ing his way through his 50s as girls softball coach & people love him More like Sandy who will never leave – there’s too much out there she wants & feels she doesn’t really deserve but there is always just a little less than what she needs right here It’s fine – it’ll be fine The train doesn’t publish it’s schedule so the terrorists can’t formulate a plan but it always seems to roll through right when you think maybe I shoulda left that one time & then it’s gone & the crickets return in the night certain everything will be just fine & it is, isn’t it? ____________________________ Our first date 1986 Took Mindy to see Platoon We both liked war movies Empty theatre perfect for making out except one angry vet sobbing down front in the horrible fog They killed the good guy is the only lesson learned Too stunned even to hold hands we liked it yeah – great film Barber’s Adagio for Strings swelling & enveloping me later when Mindy takes me into her mouth on a gravel road next to some field my hands clutching air just like Willem Dafoe ____________________________ Waiting for the future to arrive as advertised I hear a juvenile hawk in the dense canopy of the abandoned house across the street 1000 years wheel across the starry starry until something different happens & is it? Every hill is always the one we choose to die on My car narc’d on me now I’m too scared to drive killing machines with fascists Clock sounds digitized making “simmer down” motions with their useless hands Everything is late late late can’t happen soon enough Even waiting is a waste of time and energy in the midst of a long-haul dream Let us then toast to the ever-under-construction freeway & pour one out for all the dumb bugs wending wayward into death against the grills & shields of inevitability Waiting for the 20 years implicit in the next advance turn signal on too early been on the last 100 years I awake resembling something extinct & pissed off about it Not false Not spiritual Not grief Anticipation & the wearing down of might cliffs to something manageable A fun time on a wild ride left with penetrating desire to go go go again
Tony Brewer is a poet and foley artist from Bloomington, Indiana. he has been nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize and his latest book is Pity for Sale (Gasconade Press). He is executive director of the Spoken Word Stage at the 4th Street Arts Festival and co-producer of the Writers Guild Spoken Word Series. More at tonybrewer71.blogspot.com.
Poetry from Michael Robinson

SANCTUARY FOR A SOUL The world evaporates as a calm comes from within me. God’s embrace comes in the stillness of my thoughts. Kneeling at the altar of my heart seeking deliverance. My partition reflects my resolution for reconciliation. Tears of clarity flow for the presence of Jesus. Jesus’s presence is a reminder of eternal life. My transformation delivers redemption to my soul. God’s sanctuary welcomes me to partake at the table. It is this compassion of Jesus in which fills my cup everlasting Now my life is of clarity given by Jesus's life for me. A moment of liberation brings essence to my existence. Life eternal has been given from the birth of the first star.
Poetry from Mahbub Alam

The Firing World The world is firing Firing for what? The world is raging The wildlife is burning Burning for what? Some try to escape the fire Some can't but accept the world It seems to ask the question How are you, dear world? The silence breaks out suddenly thundering in the sky Blazing hundreds and thousands of lives The cloudy sky without rain thunders and fires on the ocean and the earth Firing for what? Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh 28/07//2022 A Room for Love Will you lend me your sky? O my dear, will you? I'll be there always twinkling in the night Will you hold my hand? I'm giving you my words We must fly on Make a room for love My sleepless nights and restless days The lively drakes and deer O my dear, can't you see and hear What I feel and what I face Would you like to join the race? Only for the 'yes' comment I can drive for rest of the world The sun rises ----- I know you are watching the beautiful sunny nature I'm standing by you looking behind. Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh 28/07//2022 Load Shedding The season is for - ongoing load shedding Who knows when and how it happens Appears without notice - shedding on life to lead Time is on and good Time is off and bad Yet time is not to blame What we say can't keep it in words and deeds Say much more than it needs The loaded head can't move forward anymore Burdened as the seedlings dry out in the hot rainless rainy season We like to see the glory that is not yet uttered The untold love like the unseen strength of the ocean Around the green beautiful hills protecting all O my dear load shedding! In this hot, gloomy, suffocating room Can you hear me? O my dear love ------ I like to live well in the enlightened green beautiful world Can you give me the address of my loving care? Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh 29/07//2022