Poetry from John Chizoba Vincent

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AND LIBYA SAW OUR WEAKNESSES
and my CNN opened on a breaking news on a dark street in Libya, about Nigerians chained to be sold as slaves.
the television slide and roved over,
their tears shattered and their blood spoke of pains on the blazing ground.
the newscaster hid her face,
the screen went on chaos,
the remote ceased as their tears quaked the entire earth.
from people’ basket of wailing, my heart shrieked and three cities were built:
graveyard, hell and death.
This was the totality of manslaughter,
a trade made by Africans against Africans.
they made their souls like an old nest,
torturing their brothers as if night and day are not the same to a blind man.
another ship has capsized in my body and my eyes is yet to find fins.
I have to die for these men!
I will hold down Libya for this blood!
I will decorate their cities with skulls and cracking cackling ghosts.
I will spread black demons on their grounded farmland.
I will break the bones of your infants,
Make their youths desolate to the world.
I will curse their old men and women,
Their rivers  shall be blood like Egypt.
Not in this season will my brothers wail like this and my government is silent!
Libya! Libya!!  When I shall start my dirge, your home shall be my starting point.
I have written my national diplomacy,
the world has seen my woes howled,
I have consulted the embassies of the UN
remember, butter is not made for monkeys!
when those blood shall start singing an elegy, none of your ears shall stand.
the last time I visited Libyan cemetery,
Nigerian dusts was what I saw.
if you see my mother looking out for me through the window,  tell her I have gone to Libya for my countrymen.
I am not a streamline to be wasted,
I will like to see if there are survivors,
I will like to see my people even their dust because I will take them back home
If my government is silent, i won’t be!
these are men that have children,
these are women that need husbands,
these are youths, our pride, to run our memories, to sip our memories, to occupy those bed back home.
Libya! Libya!  Where are my seeds seized on your border of sin and destruction?
leave me to a piano, I will play a note of your cruelty and music of sadness!
Bite your own tongue and see how painful it is to engage in a war.
and these weaknesses of my people you won’t see in me,  I shall stand like Okonkwo to kill and make life to those who wants to live!
I will anoint your head with sore palmwine that forsake fermentation.
those blood  you wasted are the sap of ancestral trees.
till then,  if see my father looking out for me,  tell him that I have Libya on my palms, our weaknesses  they saw yesterday is not cowardice but strategies and passport to reach the world.
it is a martyrdom, making me to wax stronger.
we walk our sagging lips
through a street of walls and emptiness
we hold our hopes and they fall like sands creating cascaded dreams like a rainbow in the sky.
  Nigeria is blood not water!

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Poetry from J.J. Campbell

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in over a decade
 
trouble seems to
find me no matter
how many times
i try to change
my disposition
evil women like
to give me the
look
but in today’s
culture i have
no damn clue
what that look
means anymore
i still find myself
listening to basslines
in songs even though
i haven’t played in
over a decade
in my mind, i’m
smoking a cigarette
while chatting with
joan jett
reality is a state
of affairs not fit
for the words it
would require
———————————————————-
chicken wings and beer
 
it’s having to take
a shit and you’re
three miles from
home
and there’s traffic
you’ve learned
over the years
that any sudden
movements mean
you are buying
new clothes
and in the worst
case scenario
a new vehicle
the sprint doesn’t
need to happen
until the toilet
is in sight
one of these days
you’ll remember
the pitfalls of
spicy food for
lunch
——————————————————————-
a beacon of hope for the world
 
two in the morning
scribbling down
words
pretending my pain
is a beacon of hope
for the world
pretending i never
have the urge to
kill or love
this war inside my
head is rather tiring
these days
i once asked my
doctor for enough
pain pills to kill
me
he laughed and
complimented my
sense of humor
no one seems to
understand i haven’t
told a joke in over
a decade
another empty bottle
of rum for the pile
one of these days
i’ll find oblivion
———————————————————————-
to the cruel world
 
try explaining to the cruel
world that a poet doesn’t
need to worry about money
or fame
the only thing that matters
are the words and the people
willing to publish them
that doesn’t pay the bills
ask not want not
you and your bullshit
philosophy shit again
how will we ever provide
for the children
or get a better home
or find a better school
district
you try to explain that all
these things have already
been decided on this long
strange trip
you just simply have to
be willing to take the ride
fast forward twenty years
and your children hate you
more than you ever believed
was possible
perhaps a solid job wasn’t
that bad a choice in hindsight
these padded walls beg to
differ
————————————————————
into fruition
 
life is a scam
much like religion
or weight loss pills
it’s nothing more
than the placebo
effect
and i hear all
these motivational
speakers tell me
that i need to think
it and believe it
into fruition
i never
got to six
feet tall
and i never
have fucked
a supermodel
just more bullshit
to sell some books

Poetry from Mahbub

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See You Before Death

 

So many years I wonder

so many times my brain got

tempted and tempered eyesight

became dull and dim

can not move foreword

many times I tried and tried

much more than this or that

I can reach my goal

but faltered and stood up again

to move forward

at  last time came finally

I am at the time of pathetic death

in the meantime you grown up with

so many branches with so many leaves

my eyes lift up with joy

to see the green and flourished

colourful sunny  beauty of  the tree.

 

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Elizabeth Hughes’ Book Periscope

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Essence of Neverland by Juna Jinsei
essenceofneverland
What would happen to Neverland if Peter Pan met his demise? When Peter Pan decides to torment and tease Captain Hook once again by slicing the ropes on the masts and sails, Captain Hook climbs to the top to stop him. Captain Hook begins to fall and accidently impales Peter on his sword. Without Peter, Neverland begins losing its magic and beauty. Everyone begins to age at an accelerated rate and tempers flare. The Essence of Neverland, also known as Mother or the Mountain Witch, sends some fairies to look for children with intelligence, kindness and pure of heart who can be brought to Neverland. Their assignment is to restore Neverland to its magical state by uniting everyone towards a common goal. Essence of Neverland is filled with adventure from the first to last page. It is also about empowering one’s mind and building self confidence that can get one through many difficult times. I would highly recommend this book for teens to adults. It would also make a wonderful gift for yourself or someone you know. I absolutely loved this book.
Review of Where Losers Live, Heroes Die by Gary Helzer
whereloserslivefrontcover
Where Losers Live, Heroes Die by Gary Helzer is an action packed and suspenseful thriller. This book will most definitely keep the reader on the edge of their seat from the first page to the last. Hans Metzer gets out of the Army after putting in time in Vietnam. His Sergeant Pete talks him into taking a job with him in the Bahamas. The job pays well and will help Hans’ parents save their farm in Idaho from foreclosure. When they arrive in the Bahamas, Hans finds out that this is not an ordinary construction job. What follows is an action packed story filled with twists and turns. I highly recommend this book. This would make an excellent gift for yourself or someone you know who loves action packed thrillers. Enjoy!!
Review of The Million Dollar Man by Thomas Brennan
milliondollarmancover
The Million Dollar Man is the story of boxer Jack Dempsey. He was a boxer in the early 1900’s. This book covers his life before boxing and when he began boxing. Jack Dempsey made a name for himself by boxing anyone. He was very tough and unrelenting in the ring. Mr. Brennan brings the story of Jack Dempsey’s career to life. You feel like you are right there watching the fights. Mr. Brennan has done an excellent job chronicling Jack Dempsey’s life. This is a very interesting book, from the first page to the last. This is a perfect gift for the fan of boxing. I highly recommend The Million Dollar Man by Thomas Brennan.
Million Dollar Man can be ordered here.
Review of Confessions of a Bunny by Melissa Jackson
confessionsofabunny
Confessions of a Bunny, written by Melissa Jackson and illustrated by Shannen Marie Paradero, is a delightful story about the life of Bun Bun and her human, Reagan. The illustrations are bright and sweet and small children will enjoy looking at the pictures while being read to. Bun Bun is the favorite plush toy bunny of Reagan. Reagan takes Bun Bun everywhere, even when she starts school. Then one day Bun Bun gets lost. This delightful book is told from Bun Bun’s perspective about how Bun Bun loves going everywhere with her girl, Reagan. Children will love this delightful, colorful book and will want it read to them over and over. I absolutely loved this children’s book and highly recommend it. If you do not have a child it would make a wonderful gift to a child you know or one in need.

‘Noel in the Sierra’ by Christopher Bernard

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damagedcityroaddowntown-browning-with-mountains-in-the-background-in-montana

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Noël in the Sierra

 

By Christopher Bernard

 

 

They’d been traveling all day, since before the sun rose,

and now it was cold and dark and snowing,

then the car broke down and now this cracker . . .

“You just got bad timing,” the burly man had said.

“Nobody around here’s got any rooms tonight. Sorry.”

“Damn all . . .!” That was the last straw.

It was Christmas Eve, man! . . . “It’s all right, Jay.”

The girl, her small heart pounding,

looked the motel owner straight in the eye.

 

Sheesh! the man thought. How old are these kids?

Him, skinny, rasta hair, bitter eyes, eighteen maybe,

her, tiny, cornrows, more in control than her dude,

sixteen—less!

And what are they doing in Red Bluff?

The nearest ghetto’s in Oakland . . .

Oh no . . .   He sees the problem: the little swollen body,

the perfect little sphere at her tummy

peeking through a tatty coat. . .

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December’s Synchronized Chaos Issue: Level Up!

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Welcome, readers, to December’s issue of Synchronized Chaos Magazine. This month we’re ‘leveling up,’ moving ahead in our understanding and navigating different levels as we would after mastering a stage in a video game.

These submissions involve different shades of meaning: symbols, dreams, subconscious thoughts, and the combination of different areas of knowledge.

scale

Tony LeTigre review Richard Brautigan’s novel Trout Fishing in America, the rambling thoughts of a wandering mind, with beauty beyond the literal text.

Joan Beebe dreams of an abundant and warm Christmas morning, a scene of welcome and comfort that harkens back to centuries ago. Another piece of hers illustrates the depression caused by unfulfilled longings, pointing out through contrast what the holidays often represent for us beneath the surface.

In Luna Acorcha’s poem, the speaker subconsciously reflects on their mother and other people close to them. Their almost mystified gratitude and appreciation for people around them comes through, even if their words are unclear.

Mahbub’s poetic speakers find themselves pulled out of everyday life by intense feelings of romantic or family love, and these powerful experiences cause them to contemplate and ask deeper questions about their role in the continuity of human existence. Yusuf BM’s piece also shows an ordinary person who works, prays, and lives as expected given his situation, yet once he’s alone at night, he’s thinking about his place in the world.

 

In Christopher Bernard’s fifth installment of his novel Amor I Kaos, deep existential questions lurk beneath each everyday encounter as a couple goes about their lives.  J.J. Campbell’s speakers outgrow their conceptions of their past traditional beliefs and go make their own ways in the world, to varying degrees of success.

 

Aremu Adams Adebisi’s speakers cannot escape the realities of war and violence, even in times of personal contemplation or when in love.  The same proves true in Abigail George’s literary, thoughtful pieces, where we see high intellectual beauty but also the memory of oppression.

In contrast to their subtlety, Jake Cosmos Aller directly confronts the chaos and violence of our world with long poems meant to overwhelm and disgust us with what we have allowed the world to become.

In her regular monthly Book Periscope column, Elizabeth Hughes reviews Stephen Patterson’s novel Rosetta, a science fiction piece touching on linguistics, biology, ecology, hard science, and the possibility of civilizations in space. Kitty Yeung, engineer and physicist and fashion designer who integrates custom electronics into clothing and believes this brings about heightened potential for creative expression, highlights the beauty of different disciplines by combining them.

Allison Grayhurst and Diane Barbarash also mix different forms of art, as Barbarash sets Grayhurst’s Pushcart Prize-nominated poetry to music. The songs they sent us to sample tell of protected pet animals and lovers – pieces of intimacy and connection.

We wish you connection and peace as you enjoy this issue and the varied submissions, and the many levels on which they can be understood.

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Poetry from Jake Cosmos Aller

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The Dogs of War are Howling

 

The Dogs of War

Have been set free

Of their cage

 

And are out

Howling at the moon

 

The Dogs of War

Have been set free

 

To wreck what havoc

Might be

 

Yes, the Dogs of War

The Hell Hounds

Have bound out of their cages

 

Sniffed about

And smiled

 

At the destruction they saw

They knew soon

 

They would be in their element

As the world descends into chaos

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