Golden Giant Written by Chinese Poet Hongri Yuan Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

 Who is sitting in the heavens and staring at me?
Who is sitting in the golden palace of tomorrow?
Who is smiling?
Golden staff in his hand
flashes a dazzling light. 
Ah, the flashes of lightning-
interweave over my head...
I walked into the crystalline corridor of the time-
I want to open
the doors of gold.
Lines of words in the sun-
Singing to me in the sky-
I want to find
the volumes of gold poems
on the shores of the new century
to build the city of gold.

Laozi with rosy cheek and white hair-
Smiles at me in the clouds,
A phoenix dances trippingly 
and carries with it, a book of gold.

Lines of mysterious words
made my eyes drunken,
countless giant figures
came towards me from the clouds.

Ages through seventy million years
emerged leisurely before my eyes,
the cities of gold
surrounded with crystalline gardens.

A sky of sapphire
sent out a colorful miraculous brightness,
onto green hills of jasper,
dragons and phoenixes were flying

Exquisite pagoda-
with majestical palace of gold,
the airy pavilions and pagodas
stood within the purple-red clouds 

Laughing girls
riding the colorful husbands and wives,
propitious clouds
sprinkling the colorful flowers.

I opened the door to a golden palace,
saw the rows of scrolls of gold,
a giant who had the haloes all over his body-
there was a golden sun over his head.

Smiling, he picked up the books of gold
recited the sacred verses-
Intoxicated with the miraculous wonderful words
I was enveloped with purple-gold flames.

A golden lotus
bloomed beneath my feet,
lifted up my body,
wafting it up out of the golden palace

The red clouds
drifted by my side,
in the far distance I saw
another golden paradise

the leisurely bells
calling to me.
There- countless giants
roamed in a golden garden,

with skies of ruby,
rounds of sun
like the golden lotus
blooming in the sky,

intoxicating fragrances of flowers
like sweet good wine,
golden trees
laden with the dazzling diamonds,

wonderful flowers
in bloom for a thousand years,
this land of gold
inlaid with the gems.

The pavilions of gold were
strewn at random, clustered in multitude.
Someone was playing chess
Someone was chatting...

Quaint clothes
colossal statures
miraculous eyes-
happy and comfortable.

White cranes
flying in the sky,
husbands and wives
crowing leisurely.

Beside an old man I approached
as if he were waiting for me
in this golden pavilion.
He opened an ancient sword casket-

A glittering ancient sword
engraved with abstruse words and expressions,
which were clear and transparent, like lightning, 
dimly glowed with purplish-red patterns.

He told me a metaphysical epic:
The sword came from nine billions years ago,
made from hundreds of millions of suns.
It was a sacred sword of the sun-

It could pierce the rocks of time,
open layer after layer of skies,
let the sacred fires forge the heaven and the earth
into golden paradises.

The old man's eyes were deep, archaic, difficult to discern-
Dimly showing the joyful flames.
He let me take this sword
to fly towards a new golden paradise:

The huge golden lotus floated leisurely-
I flew among the skies, for a thousand miles.
Huge pyramids
loomed impressively in front of my eyes

Mountainous figures of giants
walked about in front of the pyramid,
the huge pyramids of gold
far taller than the mountains.

The giant trees of gold
like a forest
stood in the sky
laden with the stars.

The multi-colored propitious clouds
were like a colossal bird
in a silvery sky,
crowing joyfully.

I came to the front of a pyramid-
a door was opening wide for me,
a group of blond giants
sat with smiles in the grand palace.

An old and great holy man
recited in monotone.
The temple was painted with the magical symbols
and giant portraits of Gods.

The palace was full of silvery white light
blooming with magnificent flowers,
a peal of wonderful mellifluous bells
that made one suddenly forget all time.

I heard an immemorial verse
that was written hundreds of millions of years past,
relating countless eras of giants,
the creation of the holy kingdoms of heaven.

Their wisdom was sacred and great
knowing, omniscently, the past and the future of the universe.
They flew freely among the skies 
landed on the millions of planets in the universe.

They altered time per one’s pleasure,
encompassed other powers, such as-
turning stone into gold,
making gold bloom into flowers.

They were like the bulbous sun,
which could erupt with sacred flames
let all things blaze in raging flames.. 
Manifest imagination into reality..

They landed on planets
establishing golden paradises
and with their magical, cryptic wisdom
built platinum cities.

I saw the splendid words
spied from the volume of gold
and the magical wonderful halos
rotating like colorful lightning in the sky.

I came to another wonderful planet, 
saw a massive monumental edifice of platinum,
the whole city, an intricate work of art
emanating, softly, a brilliant white light.

A huge round square
encased unearthly works.
Giants of great stature
came and went leisurely in the street.

They wore spartan, common clothing
covering their bodies,
all with smiles upon their faces,
both men and women looked beautiful.   

They spoke a wonderful language
intriguing and pleasant as welcome music.
Some of them travelled by spaceship
flying around silently in the sky.

I walked into a towering edifice of platinum-
saw a magnificent hall,
its platinum walls were inlaid with gems,
among which was a row of unusual instruments.

Their eyes were like bright springs
and they wore multi-colored clothes.
Some were operating the instruments.
Some were talking softly among themselves.

I saw a fascinating picture, a simulacrum that
drew giant planets, 
arranged cities on those planets,
with crystal gardens.

I opened a crystal door-
noticed a group of men and women, who were happily,
singing softly,
with glittering books of gold in their hands.

Arrangements of flowers and glasses filled of golden wine
sat on the huge round table.
Golden walls were sparkling 
carved with all kinds of wonderful images.

I saw a demure girl,
with sparkling golden halo above her head,
adorned in a lengthy purple-gold dress
peerless in its quality.

Pages- were marked with cryptic glyphs
or lines of ancient magic words or symbols,
each of their books were made of gold
inexplicably constructed in golden crystal.

I understood their euphonious songs-
They were singing the sacred love
They were singing great ancestors
They were recounting the civilization of the universe

Gardens filled their city, everywhere,
surrounded with the sweet rivers.
The whole earth was a piece of jade,
the clay, a translucent layer of golden sands.

I saw enormous bright, white spheres
suspended high above the city,
emanating outwards a dazzling light-
illuminating the skies and earth- bright as the crystal

The towering, great buildings stood in great numbers
As if carved by a singular piece of platinum.
Doves and colorful birds
were flying among the heavens.

A mono-train was
flying swiftly through the sky,
the streets were illuminated in bright white,
and any moving vehicle could not have been seen.

These people’s bodies were unusually strong.
Playing a wonderful game-
they piled up the pieces of great stones
arranging into grotesque works.

Similar to giant eyes
and ancient totems,
there were strange birds
covered with lightning feathers.

I saw a couple of tall lovers-
aviators, riding in their spaceship.
Their eyes were quiet and bright,
colorful halo around their bodies.

This wonderful space was gyrating leisurely
like a huge, resplendent crystal.
I said goodbye to the unusual city,
towards a space of golden light.

The cities flashed in the sky.
I flew over the layers of the sky again
and I saw a new-fangled world:
the multi-colored city of crystal.

The high towers were exquisitely carved
displaying multi-colored pearls,
layers of its eave painted with dragon and phoenix,
hung with singing golden bells.

The earth was a crystal garden,
the palaces were limpid and crystal,     
huge mountains were like a transparent gems
lined with the golden trees.

I saw the tall giants-
who wore their purple clothes,
with heads of round suns,
bodies enshrined with halos.

They sat up in the main halls  
singing a mellifluous song.
Some were roaming leisurely in the garden.
Some were summoning the birds in the sky.

The crystalline airy pavilions and pagodas
were beset with jewels and agates,
a huge jewel on the spire,
shining golden lights.

I saw a holy giant
sitting in the middle of a main hall 
the purple-gold flame, flashed around his body,
which filled with the whole majestic main hall. 

Full-bodied fragrance filled the hall
like a cup of refreshing wine.
Solemn expression was merciful and joyful,
a huge book was in his hand.

The hall was full of men and women
listening quietly to the psalms of the saints,
the lotuses were floating in the sky
where the smiling giants sat.

The golden light poured down from the sky
bathing the whole of this crystal kingdom.
The jewels above the giant towers-
the golden suns.

The golden walls of a golden tower
were carved with the lines of golden words I had glimpsed-
hovering around the dragons and phoenixes,
as if they were intonating the inspiring poems.

The smiling giants in the sky-
With wide halo flashing around their bodies,
were each dignified and tranquil, 
floating in the golden translucent sky.

I flew over this crystal kingdom,
saw a vast golden mountain in the distance
sending out the brilliant lights in the sky
where the propitious clouds were blossoming.

This was a golden giant
sitting in the golden translucent sky
his body composed of thousands of millions of constellations
the golden sun rotating on his forehead.

He lit up the whole marvellous universe-
the kingdoms of heaven shone in the sky.
Here there was no the sky nor earth,
lights of pure gold emanated in every direction.

The smiling giants were sitting
on the gold-engraved pavilions. 
The pavilions levitated in the translucent sky
shining the layers of purple-gold light.

A scene of multi-colored translucent mountains, 
propitious clouds floating in the heavens,
large wonderful flowers blooming in the mountain peaks,
trees of pure light.

A river flowed from the sky
and with river bottom reflecting a layer of golden sand.
There were strange and beautiful birds and beasts
some like aerial phantoms.

This was a world of light.
Everything was made of light.
The divine light formed all things
and the golden paradises.

The golden giant-
shines the kingdoms of heaven within his body.
The cities of gold-
brilliant and fascinating in his bones.

I observed lines, words of incredible profundity
arranged into a huge book in the sky.
It seemed as if they were the bright stars
constituting a wonderous drawing.

There was a golden pavilion in the sky
guarded with behemoth dragons and phoenixes.
An old man with a whisk
waved to me and smiled in the pavilion,

I seem to be attracted by some sort of magic-
leisurely came to his side.
He told me the golden giant
was namely my great ancestor

This was an eternal palace-
There's no concept of time here.
Holy light- was exactly the God.
What I witnessed was better than the heavens.

He pointed to the huge book in the sky
told me that it was the mystery of the universe.
The book contained magical wisdom,
created the countless worlds of gold.

He pointed to a pagoda in the sky,
told me that it was the temple of words.
The light turned into the sacred words,
and the words created the time of gold.

He held up a very large pearl 
in which flashed the pictures (and all images).
He told me that it was the future time-
the embodiment of all the wonderful worlds.

He told me that it was another universe.
Still desiring to go to these paradises,
he gave me the magical pearl,
to let it be my future guide.

I said goodbye to the old holy man,
set afoot onto a new road towards the heavens again.
I sat in a golden pavilion-
lightly flew to the distant outer space...
02.09.1998

 黄金巨人
 
远红日
 
谁 坐在天上向我凝望
谁 坐在明天的黄金殿堂
谁 微笑着
手中的金杖
闪出耀眼的光芒
一道道闪电啊
在我头顶上交织
我走进了一座
时间的水晶长廊
我要打开
一扇扇黄金的大门
一行行太阳的词语
在空中向我歌唱
我要找到
那一部部黄金的诗卷
在新世纪的海岸
把黄金之城建造
 
白发红颜的老子
在云端向我微笑
一只翩翩的凤凰
衔来了一部金书
 
一行行玄妙的词语
迷醉了我的眼睛
一个个巨人的身影
从云中向我走来
 
七千万年的时光
在眼前悠悠浮现
一座座黄金的城市
簇拥着水晶的花园
 
蓝宝石的天空
闪出七彩的灵光
一座座碧玉的青山
飞翔着龙和凤凰
 
玲珑的宝塔
宏伟的金殿
一座座亭台楼阁
矗立紫红的云间
 
欢笑的少女
跨着七彩的鸾凤
一朵朵祥云
洒下缤纷的花朵
 
我打开一座金殿的大门
看到一排排黄金的书卷
一个周身光环的巨人
头顶一轮金色的太阳
 
他微笑着拿起一部部金书
朗诵了一首首神圣的诗篇
我陶醉于神奇美妙的词语
周身环绕起紫金的火焰
 
一朵金莲
在我脚下盛开
托起我的身体
飘出了金殿
 
一朵朵红云
在我身边飘过
我看到了天外
又一座黄金乐园
 
悠悠的钟声
向我召唤
一个个巨人
漫步在黄金花园
 
红宝石的天空
一轮轮太阳
像一朵朵金莲
开放在天上
 
醉人的花香
像甘醇的美酒
一棵棵黄金树
结满耀眼的钻石
 
一朵朵奇葩
盛开了千年
黄金的土地
嵌满了宝石
 
黄金的楼台
错落重叠
有人在对弈
有人在闲谈
 
古雅的衣裳
巨大的身材
神奇的眸子
欢喜自在
 
一只只白鹤
飞翔空中
一只只鸾凤
悠然啼鸣
 
我来到了一位老者身旁
他仿佛正在把我等待
在那黄金的楼阁之上
他打开了一只古老的剑匣
 
一柄闪闪发光的古剑
镌刻一些玄古的词语
清澈透明像一道闪电
隐隐泛出紫红的花纹
 
他告诉我一部玄奥的史诗
这柄剑来自九亿万年
亿万颗太阳把它炼成
它是一把太阳的神剑
 
他能穿透时间的岩石
打开一层又一层云天
让神圣之火熔炼天地
化成一座座黄金乐园
 
老者的双眸古奥深沉
隐隐闪耀欢喜的光焰
他让我带上这把神剑
飞向新的黄金乐园
 
巨大的金莲悠悠飘荡
我又飞过了万里云天
一座座巨大的金字塔
赫然出现在我的眼前
 
山岳般的巨人
在塔前走动
那黄金的巨塔
比山岳更高大
 
黄金的巨树
像一座森林
矗立在空中
结满了星辰
 
五彩的祥云
是巨大的鸟儿
在白银的天空
欢喜地啼鸣
 
我来到了一座金塔之前
一扇大门向我敞开
一群金发碧眼的巨人
微笑着坐在宏大的殿堂
 
一位神圣巨大的老者
口中念诵奇特的语言
这圣殿画满了神奇的符号
还有一幅幅巨大的神像
 
殿内充满银白的光明
盛开一朵朵巨大的古葩
一阵阵奇妙动听的钟声
让人把时间顿然全忘
 
我听到了一部远古的诗篇
它们写自亿万年前
讲述一个个巨人时代
创造了一个个圣洁的天国
 
他们的智慧神圣伟大
洞明宇宙的过去未来
他们在空中自由飞行
登上宇宙的亿万星球
 
他们让时间随心变化
可以通达另外的空间
让一块石头化成黄金
让黄金盛开朵朵鲜花
 
他们像是一轮轮太阳
可以喷发神圣的火焰
让火焰熊熊燃烧万物
化成他们想象的作品
 
他们登上一颗颗星球
创建了一座座黄金乐园
用那神奇古奥的智慧
建起了一座座白金城市
 
我看见一个个华丽的词语
在黄金的书卷上闪过
一团团神奇美妙的光环
在空中旋转像彩色的闪电
 
我来到另一个奇妙的天地
看到一座白金的巨厦
整个城市像一幅作品
静静地发出灿烂的白光
 
一座巨大的圆形广场
雕塑着一些奇异的作品
一个个身形高大的巨人
在街上悠然地来来去去
 
他们穿着奇特的服装
全身上下闪闪发光
他们脸上都含着微笑
男男女女都容貌姣好
 
他们说着奇妙的语言
像音乐一般迷人动听
他们有的乘着飞船
在天空无声地飞去飞来
 
我走进一座白金的巨厦
看到一座华丽的大厅
白金的墙壁镶嵌宝石
还有一排奇异的仪器
 
他们的眼睛像明亮的甘泉
穿着五光十色的衣裳
有的在那儿操纵仪器
有的在那儿轻声交谈
 
我看到一幅神奇的画儿
画着一颗颗巨大的星球
星球上矗立一座座城市
还有一座座水晶的花园
 
我打开一座水晶的大门
看到一群快乐的男女
他们轻声地唱着歌儿
手中一部部闪光的金书
 
巨大的圆桌上一簇簇鲜花
还有一杯杯金色的美酒
黄金的四壁闪闪发光
雕刻着各种奇妙的画图
 
我看到一位端庄的少女
她头上闪耀金色的光环
她穿着一件紫金的长裙
像一座雕塑美妙绝伦
 
书页上镌刻着古怪的词语
像一行行古老神奇的符号
每一本书都由黄金制成
又像是一块金色的水晶
 
我听懂了他们悦耳的歌声
他们在唱着神圣的爱情
他们在咏歌伟大的祖先
他们在述说宇宙的文明
 
他们的城市处处是花园
环绕一条条甘美的河流
整个大地是一块玉石
泥土是一层透明的金沙
 
我看到一些白亮的巨球
高高地悬浮在城市上空
那巨球发出耀眼的光明
把天地照得明亮如水晶
 
一座座高耸林立的巨厦
仿佛一整块白金雕成
空中飞翔着一只只鸽子
还有一些七彩的鸟儿
 
我看到一种奇特的列车
在空中神速地向前飞驰
一条条大街洁白明亮
看不见任何行驶的车辆
 
他们的身体异常强壮
做着一种奇妙的游戏
他们叠起一块块巨石
化成一些怪异的作品
 
仿佛一些巨大的眼睛
又像是一些古老的图腾
还有一些奇怪的飞鸟
浑身长满闪电的羽毛
 
我看到一对高大的恋人 

他们乘着一只飞船
他们的目光宁静明亮
周身闪出七彩的光环
 
美妙的太空悠悠旋转
像一座巨大璀璨的水晶
我告别这座奇异的城市
奔向了一片金色的光明
 
一座座城市从空中闪过
我又飞过了一层层云天
我看到一个新奇的世界
五光十色的水晶之城
 
一座座高塔玲珑剔透
闪耀一颗颗五彩的明珠
一层层飞檐画满了龙凤
悬挂着一只只歌唱的金玲
 
大地是一座水晶的花园
一座座宫殿明澈晶莹
巨大的山峰像透明的宝石
林立着一棵棵金色的树木
 
我看到一个个高大的巨人
穿着一件件紫红的衣裳
他们头上都有一轮太阳
身体也闪耀一层层光环
 
他们端坐在一座座大殿
唱着一种动听的歌曲
有的在花园里悠悠漫步
有的在召唤空中的飞鸟
 
 
一座座水晶的亭台楼阁
镶嵌着宝石和玛瑙
那塔尖上一颗巨大的明珠
闪耀出一道道金色的光明
 
我看到一位神圣的巨人
坐在一座大殿的中央
他身上闪放紫金的火焰
充满了整座宏伟的大殿
 
浓郁的芳香飘满殿堂
像一杯沁人肺腑的美酒
庄严的表情慈悲欢喜
手上托着一部巨书
 
殿内坐满了男男女女
静静聆听圣者的诗篇
一朵朵莲花在天空漂浮
端坐一个个微笑的巨人
 
金色的光明从天空洒下
沐浴着整个水晶王国
那一座座巨塔之上的明珠
就是一轮轮金色的太阳
 
我看到一行行闪光的词语
刻满了一座金塔的金壁
周围环飞着一只只龙凤
仿佛在吟唱动人的诗篇
 
那空中微笑的一个个巨人
身体也闪放巨大的光环
他们一个个端庄宁静
漂浮在金色透明的天空
 
我飞越了这座水晶王国
看到了远方巨大的金山
在天空发出夺目的光芒
周围有一朵朵祥云绽放
 
那是一个金色的巨人
端坐在金色透明的天空
他的身体是亿万个星座
额头旋转着金色的太阳
 
他照亮了整个奇妙的宇宙
一座座天国闪耀空中
在这儿没有天空与大地
上下四方是纯金的光明
 
一座座黄金镌雕的楼阁
端坐一个个微笑的巨人
那楼阁悬浮透明的空中
闪耀一层层紫金的光明
 
一座座五彩透明的山峰
像一朵朵祥云漂浮天上
山峰上盛开巨大的奇葩
还有一颗颗光芒的树木
 
一条河流从空中流过
河底闪映出一层金沙
一些奇丽的飞禽走兽
也像是一些空中幻影
 
这是一个光的世界
一切都有光芒形成
神圣的光芒形成万物
和一座座黄金乐园
 
我看到的那个金色的巨人
体内闪耀一个个天国
我看到一座座黄金之城
在他的骨骼中灿烂迷人
 
我看到一行行巨形的词语
在天空排列成一部巨书
仿佛一颗颗明亮的星辰
构成了一个奇妙的画图
 
天空中一座黄金的楼阁
环飞一只只巨大的龙凤
一位手持拂尘的老者
在楼阁内向我招手微笑
 
我仿佛受到神奇的引力
悠然来到了他的身边
他告诉我那位金色的巨人
就是我的伟大的祖先
 
这是一座永恒的殿堂
在这儿没有所谓的时间
圣洁的光芒就是上帝
我看到的一切胜过天堂
 
他指着天空的那部巨书
告诉我那是宇宙的奥秘
那书中蕴含神奇的智慧
创造一个个黄金的世界
 
他指着天空的一座宝塔
告诉我那是词语的圣殿
光芒化成了神圣的词语
词语创造了黄金的时间
 
他托起一颗硕大的明珠
里面闪映一幅幅画图
他告诉我这是未来的时间
都是一个个奇妙的世界
 
他告诉我这是另一个宇宙
我还要去那一座座乐园
他送给我这颗神奇的明珠
让它做我未来的导游
 
我告别这位神圣的老人
我又踏上一条新的天路
我坐上一座黄金的楼阁
飘飘飞向了遥远的天外
 
  1998.2.9于北京
  1998.2.11抄改
 

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Duane’s PoeTree, Yellow Mama, Mad Swirl, The Beatnik Cowboy and Heroin Love Songs v2.0. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com) truth on a cold day in november  i never fell for the belief that social security would be there for me when i’m old my father left me nothing but his debts my mother swears she’ll leave me something  i won’t be around to know usually never ends  grief is a cycle that usually never ends  think of it like a river that you think you know where you are going   but a few twists and turns and you will suddenly realize the end is mythical at best you’ll be done when you are done died on the table  i told my mother it would be best for everyone if i died on the table  that a scan becomes an oh shit moment for the doctor and i’m hurriedly rushed into a different portion of the hospital  she told me she doesn’t think of it as funny  i didn’t say it would be funny  just a relief to everyone involved pissed away in the wind  it’s been years since a beautiful woman has smiled at me apparently, all my chances have been pissed away in the wind  you have to be so weird to accept this as reality and continue to embrace the chance that forever isn’t as tragic as the present currently is of course, insanity is a fine line- islands in the stream  i always wondered when i was a kid if kenny rogers ever fucked dolly parton on one of those islands in the stream  i’d like to think he at least fucking tried

‘May you live in interesting times.’ — ancient curse

We’re certainly living through a time of global uncertainty. Whoever created this saying believed that calmer historical eras were more conducive to peaceful, prosperous individual lives. However, ‘interesting times’ can provide creative inspiration.

I’m now at the age where the world events of my college years are showcased on public television documentaries. And I’m listening to a historical fiction panel discussion with Alex George (The Paris Hours), Whitney Scharer (The Age of Light) and Meg Waite Clayton (The Last Train to London) and they just posed the question of what sort of literature would emerge out of, or inspired by, the coronavirus pandemic.

Mark Young’s systematically created non-persona, non-imagistic poetry perhaps characterizes this period of economic and health uncertainty. Its narrative unfolds according to an unseen logic of its own and readers are left to wonder and watch for what will happen next.

Amlanjyoti Goswami contributes poems of survival, re-creation and change, while Michael Robinson writes of compassion, love, and the autumnal season of the year and our lives.

Norman J. Olson, who usually writes about his art-infused travels, reflects on how times have changed and brought him and his wife home. J.K. Durick conveys the endlessness of the time in quarantine without any of our usual chronological markers.

J.J. Campbell ponders illness, isolation, and decay in short understated, uncapitalized bursts. John Dorroh describes through dreams the visceral, grotesque reality of quarantine.

Chuck Taylor writes clever formal poetry about ordinary subjects, including a baby’s binky, although he includes one poem about a truly traumatic childhood. Daniel DeCulla turns to whimsy with an amusing illustrated piece about a monkey.

Michael Lee Johnston’s pieces evoke dislocation, speculation about the future, and sorrow over the historical injustices Western colonizers perpetuated against indigenous people.

Mike Zone’s short story centers on a more individual injustice, where a scammer pretends to be an elderly woman’s relative for his own gain. Yet he develops a sense of connection with her that causes him to leave her, but not without a bit of curiosity on whether he could rewrite the facts of their history.

Federico Wardal looks to ancient history for inspiration, to the glories of ancient Egypt, which he considers even more awe-inspiring than we realize.

Abigail George reflects on her early childhood against the backdrop of apartheid in South Africa, wondering how much she could have understood or impacted the world at that point.

Chris Butler writes of hypocrisy and love forced to compete with addictions, showing speakers trapped by their weaknesses and by those of their societies.

Elizabeth Hughes reviews books that explore human nature in further depth in her monthly Book Periscope column. John Altson’s Does Harry Dream of Electric Sheep? satirizes American social institutions and questions how much we can change our behavior and morals, while Laura McHale Holland follows a single family within a small Midwestern town in her highly character-driven novel The Kiminee Dream.

Christopher Bernard reflects on nature reclaiming ground while some human activities have ceased due to the virus, while Mahbub celebrates the gift of life while criticizing our tendencies to waste resources. Joan Beebe points out the power of roses to lift our spirits, while Chimezie Ihekuna dramatizes the potential of humanity’s reconciliation with nature.

We hope this issue will be creative food for your mind, heart and soul while we make memories and become primary sources about this period of history.

Also – I’m sharing this on behalf of Leticia Escalera, author of the upcoming memoir A Journey to Begin in Life and part of our Synchronized Chaos family. Her book is about ways to encourage, help and empower people you know (or yourself!) who face learning disabilities. I’ve read it and completely recommend it.

Leticia Escalera has an amazing story and believes in inter-dependence, kindness, and making the most of her life. I’ve heard her speak many times before on her own journey and on her work on behalf of the Latina, immigrant, and disabled members of the Bay Area.

She’s been involved with the Spanish Speaking Citizens Foundation and the Center for Independent Living in Oakland, CA and has coached many people about developing strategies to work around issues that they have so that they can figure out how to accomplish personal or professional goals and access resources to assist them to survive.

Here’s the preorder campaign for her book, hybrid-published through Leticia Bradford (Hayward, CA)’s firm.

The Departure

by

Mike Zone

They held each other tight, before her train departed.

They could’ve been mother and son but they weren’t.

            “What a foolish old woman, I was…romancing the past, thinking it could be like old times.”

He smiled shyly, looked to the sunbeam shining on the floor and chuckled. She held the homebound ticket he had purchased her with his own money.

            “Guess, we’ll always have piano lessons on hot summer afternoons with lemonade and a bit of bourbon.” She laughed.
He embraced her again, gazing at the passing faces of strangers and thought about his mother, because everyone probably thought this was parting mother and son.

Her brown eyes swallowed him whole, isolating them from all the rest.

            “I was young, you really… just a boy but, God, how I loved you Henry…and that’s my biggest regret, I didn’t take you away from your parents. Now you’re grown and I’m a crone.”

            “You’ll never be a crone, Gwen.”

            “Henry, you’ve made a doddering old lady happy for one night in imaginary Paris. Don’t ruin it.”

Gwen put her head down. He lifted her chin.

            “We can still…”

            “Henry, I don’t like deception. You’re married.” She removed his hand and continued “…even if you don’t wear the ring and don’t act like it, you need do…maybe being a traveling salesman isn’t good for you, piano sure wasn’t.”

He thought of his mother, whom she reminded him of.

The Driftwood Bar the night before, Frank was looking for his next mark. It’s what he did. Scam old war widows into bed and dig as much as he could into their pockets before moving onto the next.  She came up to with bright smile and shining eyes.

            “Henry, you got my letter.”

            He didn’t know her but she talked and talked like his own mother who couldn’t even remember her own name like alone who he even was. Frank soon came to find out this guy Henry was kind of like him only probably more successful.

Frank played shock, told her how he remembered Moonlight Sonata, then felt pity knowing Henry would never show. He bought a bottle of  “their bourbon” from behind the bar, knowing he’d make thrice the amount come morning, only to find a bit of loose change and small bills at the bottom of her purse, as he laid in his underwear relaxed as she went into the powder room to prepare.

            She came out looking a fright in lacy moth eaten black pajamas, overly made-up face like a terrifying clown…he took a hard slug of the bottle, with a squeeze of lemon and spoonful of sugar.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her.

He wasn’t the man she was looking for.

Mike Zone resides beyond the pines…the author of Void Beneath the Skin and A Farewell to Big Ideas, a frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl, his work has been featured in: Horror Sleaze Trash,  Cajun Mutt Press,Outlaw Poetry, Piker Press, Synchronized Chaos, The Whiskey Rye Review and Cult Culture magazine.

reflections on travel and life in the era of Pandemic

by:  Norman J. Olson

my wife retired from her airline job in 2015 and had worked in the airline and travel industries for many years…  we have travelled extensively with employee pass travel discounts since our adult children were young and have had many amazing travel experiences, from a surly cab driver on Lombok to a view of the Alpine snow peaks through the clouds flying into Zurich… we have crossed the Atlantic and Pacific oceans by ship and by air, back and forth over the International Date Line and the Equator…  we have seen the shipping in the Malacca Strait between the Malay Peninsula and Sumatra…  we have sailed into the magnificent harbor of Rio de Janeiro with Sugarloaf looming on one side and the famous Statue of the Redeemer looking down from the pinnacle of mount Corcovado, 2300 feet above the city… we have walked in the water meadows around Kelmscott Manor where Dante Rossetti painted Janey Morris in 1871 and visited the house where James Ensor painted his masterpiece in Ostend, Belgium… we have been to Graceland and walked among the gigantic sequoia trees 6000 feet up in the Sierra Nevada Mountains…  we have seen, heard and smelled much including an erupting volcano on Stromboli and the smell of woodsmoke in rural Mexico… we have made lifelong friends and found lovely, amazing, interesting and beautiful people everywhere… along with a few grumps…  it has been a terrific ride…

now, in the new reality of a worldwide pandemic that as yet, has no cure, vaccine or even treatment, I wonder if travel as we have known it will ever come back…  I have no crystal ball and in the past, efforts by humans to predict the future have not been very successful…  so, who knows…  some say that the cruise industry was in big trouble before the epidemic…  and it certainly was an industry with a history of problems including some questionable environmental impact, and a product that was becoming more and more out of step with the modern world…  people complained about small staterooms, seasickness, and uneven quality and of course, communicable disease was a problem long before ships started arriving with hundreds of passengers ill and some dead from Covid 19… what we enjoyed about cruises was the food, the conviviality with others in our age cohort (baby boomers), the chance to see and be on the ocean, the calm and relaxing atmosphere of watching the waves roll by in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, or the excitement of arriving in a new port…  things that no other form of travel could provide…  I will not argue for or against the cruise industry…  in our history, it was there and gave us a chance to see and experience things we could not experience any other way and we took advantage of travel industry employee discounts which made these cruises, especially the long transoceanic, “repositioning” ones a real bargain for us…  we got to see and experience the oceans and ports of the world… if the cruise industry goes away, we will travel by whatever means are still there, if traveling anywhere ever again, in our lifetime becomes safe…

most of our travel has of course, not been by ship…  we have flown all over the USA and to other continents and have traveled in the USA and elsewhere by car and train…  we have ridden the metro in Singapore, driven from Loch Ness to Bristol (on the WRONG side of the road many years ago when our kids were young) and ridden the bus from Victoria Coach station to Amsterdam Sloterdijk Station…  we have driven from Las Vegas to Riverside, California across the Mojave desert many times and from the granite cliffs of Yosemite to the gnarled Monterey Cypress Trees on the soft beach of Carmel by the Sea in California…

well, whatever the future holds, we hope to make it through the current crises…  we are age 72, so are carefully self isolating and doing everything we can to avoid becoming victims of this disease that has killed so many, and still carry on with our lives…  we have enjoyed being home, walking and bicycling in our area as spring is becoming more summer like every day…  making art, listening to music, watching television in the evenings, tuning into the rhythms of Maplewood, Minnesota, where we live and of the life we have been privileged to enjoy now for 72 years…  typing this now, I am looking out the window where the bushes and trees are only beginning to bud…  it is bright and sunny if still chilly…  I see the intricate shadow of the branches of the spruce and honey locust trees… I see the grass in my front yard becoming green through the mulch of last years leaves and since the new leaves are not out yet on trees and bushes, I can look across McKnight Road and through the network of branches to see the dusty blue, rippled surface of Beaver Lake…  this morning on my walk around Beaver Lake, I saw Canadian Geese, Mallard ducks and migrating wood ducks with their brilliant colors and patterns…  a few days ago, I heard a loon call…  loons stop on their migration sometimes in the summer and fall to spend a day or two on Beaver Lake, before heading north or south depending on the season…

this morning while eating breakfast, I read a bit of a doorstopper biography I have been reading on the life of the late Victorian artist G. F. Watts…  I have visited the house where he spent his final years (near Guildford, England) and find it fascinating to learn how someone who died 45 years before I was born looked at the world, at life and at art…  to think about art…  how Mr. Watts was, and thought of himself as, a truly important and immortal artist but became in the 20^th Century, at most a footnote in the history of art…  (even though he is not a great artist, I think he is an interesting one and some of his drawings are really very fine)…

when I finish writing this, I have my drawing board nearby and my fingers are itching to pick up my steel dip pen and see what kind of a drawing develops… 

Mary and I have been married for 50 years…  we have been lucky to have lived such a life with children and grandchildren (video chats are great but we miss the hugs!!!) and so many blessings in every part of our lives…  we have enjoyed each other and our time together…  we are stuck not traveling for now, but that is maybe an opportunity for us to have new domestic experiences and to enjoy the place where we are…  if I have learned nothing else in 72 years, I have learned that I have been very lucky and very blessed in this life…  though I am not a religious person, in this time of crises when so many are experience death, loss and illness, I am truly and forever grateful for what I have been given in this life so far, and that so far, we have been spared…  still, the sadness of so much death and suffering hurts and touches us all… as to the future?  well, I hope we have a future and if we do, I hope for the best for everybody…

Walking by Beaver Lake

By:  Norman J. Olson

walking along McKnight Road,

along Beaver Lake, I can

see trees, grass, weeds…

a world of green that feeds on

sunlight, minerals

and carbon dioxide…  of course,

the axis of this planet is tilting

toward

summer

now…  natural history

has me by the throat

and yellow gold finches

fly from twig to twig…

letter to the future

By:  Norman J. Olson

imagine this planet 2.4 billion

years ago, if time on that

scale has any meaning at all…  was

there a snowball Earth??  a planet covered

with ice and snow…

all the water turned solid

until volcanos finally put enough

carbon dioxide into the air

to warm things up

a bit…  for 3 or 4 hundred million years

snow and ice

covered the planet, according to

scientists, or, maybe not… they cannot agree,

but whatever happened, we have had both

glaciation

and ice free poles…  and through it all,

tiny bits of life survived (lucky for us, I guess)…

will we be around for the next glaciation?  will

our home again

become snowball Earth…  will humans somehow

survive through the millennia?  well,

the odds are against us…  a meteor or

even a giant volcano could mean the end of us…

not to mention our own

self destructive militarism and idiocy… 

drought, flood and famine are always

just around the corner… our tolerances

of heat and cold 

are small…  for much of our brief tenure on this planet

starvation has been our companion, death and disease,

our daily lot…  will that change in the long term,

or are we in a brief golden age of medical miracles

even the scientists and fortune tellers do not know for sure…

so, my children’s children’s children x 2000…  I hope 

you survive and if you do, good luck with the

ice…