Today, my parents, is my birthday. But this birthday is not happy at all. You know, father and mother, I miss you, that innocent girl of 7 years old. I was very happy at that time. I still remember those days. I have not yet heard from anyone what I heard from you. No one could support me like you. I really miss those moments and days with you.
You know, I’m so tired of the day you left me at my grandmother’s house and went to the girl’s house. Every year when that day comes, I can’t find a place to put myself. I still remember my parents telling me “Don’t go, take me too.” And you said, “Daughter, we will definitely come tomorrow, we will bring you lots of chocolates and dolls.” Then I boasted to my grandmother and said, “Grandma, you see, tomorrow my father will bring me many toys and chocolates, they will not give them to anyone, they will bring them only for me.” Then my grandmother smiled and said, “Of course they will.” I will never forget these words.
When I woke up the next day, I was very happy that my father and mother would come today. But this feeling of joy left me. My grandmother was crying, her eyes were full of tears, she was punching the ground and crying. I went to my grandmother and said, “Don’t cry, why are you crying? Mom and dad are coming, they will be sad to see you.” My grandmother couldn’t stop the tears in her eyes and said “I won’t cry, my daughter, I won’t cry”. I could not understand why my grandmother was crying.
On this day, all our relatives came to our house. My aunt, uncle, aunt, uncle, etc. I was looking for you among them. Then I slowly went to my grandmother and asked, “Grandma, when will my father and mother come?” Then my grandmother said “Tomorrow will come tomorrow” and added “Last time” while crying softly. And I could not understand what was happening. The next morning, many people started coming to our house. Women used to come to our house wearing white veils, and men wore caps on their heads, and I didn’t like this situation. 2 months ago, many people came to the house of our neighbor Saliha’s grandmother. The people who came to their house were dressed in the same way. After that, grandmother Saliha disappeared. I was afraid when I remembered them. I cried because my father and mother would not come again, so my grandmother came to me and asked, “Why are you crying? What happened?” And I kept crying, “I need my parents, find me, I’ll go with them, where are they?” My grandmother tried to persuade me, but she could not.
All of a sudden, at that moment, the surroundings became silent. I could not understand anything as usual. I also became silent. Two big things were coming out of the door. I was wondering what it was. Now I know that it is a coffin. That’s why you were there, mom and dad. Then they took out the coffin, that is, you. After that, I did not see you again. You disappeared like grandmother Saliha. I used to harass my poor grandmother by asking for you.
You know, parents, these things will never leave my mind. Maybe when I told you not to go, if you had not left, such incidents would not have happened. Maybe we would celebrate my 17th birthday with you, I don’t know… I wouldn’t spend every day, month, year in loneliness. Now I wouldn’t miss the words “We love you girl”. I always miss the days spent with you. I love you parents. You are not with me, but I know that you are always with me from the heart, my beloved father and mother.
In the fast-pased world, it is completely wrong to think that the “Youth Union” and voluntary organizations consist of idleness and only taking the time of students. I think that every student should be socially active along with education, because sharing the knowledge and skills that they have with others, organizing various creative projects for their peers, and sharing news there is no bad side, on the contrary, it is very useful. But some teachers are against it, in their opinion, the knowledge of the student who joins the organization decreases and his grades fall. Unfortunately, through such wrong ideas, they are withdrawing students from social activity. After all, if they don’t share their knowledges with others, why are they studying, just to enter the university? Well, let’s say he or she is a student, if they do not have initiative, if they can not speak fluently, what kind of staff will they become?
We ambitious youngsters must conquer the highest peaks. Of course, in order to achieve these results, we need a clear structure.”Youth Union” organization helps us lay this solid foundation.
Every student who joins the organization develops a number of skills, such as working with a team, thinking deeply, and speaking fluently, and these skills will always be useful to the student in the future, regardless of what kind of work they will do. In addition, this organization provides us with unforgettable childhood memories, and always calls for activity and unity. Every student who steps into the leadership system can’t get out of it again, because a person who has found his place in a society does not want to leave the system at all.
The leaders of Uzbekistan are a big, united and inseparable family! Organizing projects and motivational training together with them gives me energy. Another pillar of leadership is that it teaches students to be positive, because a positive person can lead those around them to a brighter future. I can say without hesitation that the first step to leadership begins with “Youth Union”. I am proud to join this organization, and I encourage all my peers to join this system!
Let’s unite youngers and leave the past behind and move towards the future. Let’s try so that our name will take place in the pages of history!!!
We are hosting our Metamorphosis gathering again! This is a chance for people to share music, art, and writing and to dialogue across different generations (hence the name, the concept of ideas morphing and changing over the years). This event is also a benefit for the grassroots Afghan women-led group RAWA, which is organized by women in Afghanistan who are currently supporting educational and income generation and literacy projects in their home county as well as assisting earthquake survivors. (We don’t charge or process the cash, you are free to donate online on your own and then attend!)
This will be Saturday April 6th, 2-4 pm in the fellowship hall of Davis Lutheran Church at 317 East 8th Street in Davis, California. It’s a nonreligious event open to all, the church has graciously allowed us to use the meeting room. You may sign up here on Eventbrite.
Also, we encourage everyone in the California area to attend the third annual Hayward Lit Hop on Saturday, April 27th.This is a public festival with different readings from different groups throughout downtown Hayward coinciding with Hayward’s choosing a new adult poet laureate, culminating in an afterparty at Hayward’s Odd Fellows Lounge. Several Synchronized Chaos contributors will read from their work at the 2024 Lit Hop.
Now for our second March issue: One Wild and Precious Life. Poet Mary Oliver said, “Tell me what it is that you plan to do, with your one wild and precious life!” In that spirit, this month’s contributors wonder and dream and fear and love and plan, all in the face of human mortality.
Susie Gharib comments on the tragedy and transience of life on Earth, while Duane Vorhees ponders the weight and influence of human ambition and history on an individual’s life.
Jacques Fleury celebrates Black history and encourages respectful and nuanced portrayals of Black people in media.
Gulyaho Karimova’s essay outlines the life and legacy of Jaloliddin Manguberdi, patriotic Turkish hero from centuries in the past. Z.I. Mahmudlooks to the past and the influence of a single person in his essay on Walt Whitman’s elegy to Abraham Lincoln. Muntasir Mamun Kiron rhapsodizes in his poetry about Bangabandhu, the military and political leader considered the father of modern Bangladesh.
Xushroy Abdunazarova’s poem concerns the beauty of the Uzbek language while Adhamova Laylo discusses the structure of the Korean alphabet. Sarvinoz Mamadaliyeva urges support for the education of women and girls. Zulaykho Kosimjonova outlines strategies to improve students’ reading comprehension while Malika Oydinova compares the advantages of distance versus in person learning. Bill Tope reminds us of the value of free access to information in his protest story about book bans and censorship while Faleeha Hassan highlights the power of writing and creativity in her narrative prose poem on the cataclysmic effects of writers’ block on her imagined worlds.
Xabibullayeva Madina writes of the elegance of her Uzbek heritage, spring, and femininity. Graciela Noemi Villaverde illuminates the wonder, beauty, and strength of women. Annie Johnson celebrates romantic love and the divine feminine archetype as grounded in nature and culture.
Brian Barbeito speaks to the timelessness and mystical quality of natural landscapes and our place in them. Sayani Mukherjee describes how thoughts align in her brain like a choir or a forest of trees. Umid Qodir’s poem urges people to have the courage of a flower in the rain, while Maja Milojkovic compares committed love to a flower continually receiving needed water from nature. Christopher Bernard compares a graceful female dancer to a fountain of water. M.P. Pratheesh’s concrete photographic poems illustrate red rocks lined up and covered to varying degrees. Kristy Raines writes of the return of spring, spirituality, compassion, and lost love with a sensitive spirit. Mahbub Alam writes of swimming at dawn with a beloved, immersing himself in water and his tender feelings. His daughter Monira Mahbubcrafts gentle scenes of village life and connection among people. Maurizio Brancaleoni contributes clever haikus on winter cold and human nature.
Mykyta Ryzhykh also speaks to human nature, with lonely modern, or post-modern pilgrims wandering alone, wondering who they are and what they are looking for in life. Our prophet of lonely wanderings, J.J. Campbell, returns with pieces on the joy and precarity of romantic and family relationships, conveying the lostness he felt with his family of origin.
Nathan Anderson addresses questions of human nature in an even less linear manner, playing with punctuation and spacing of letters on the page. Mark Young renders images from his neighborhood into mixed media art images, providing a unique way of seeing things where reality melds with imagination. Clive Gresswell, in his new book Shadow Reel, reviewed by Cristina Deptula, explores our unconscious, how ideas and words continue to resonate in our brains past the point of linear thinking.
A. Iwasa provides a comical essay about his encounters with dopplegangers. J.D. Nelson’s haiku presents encounters with the unexpected: minor mishaps, strange combinations, reunions. Grant Guy’s concrete poems about surrealist artist Alfred Garry evoke the whimsical nature of his work and the tragedy of his short life.
Mesfakus Salahin ponders how he will prepare to meet the implacable force of death, while Jerry Langdon sings the blues for a soul doomed to damnation.
Ivan de Monbrison describes physical and mental pain as a force mangling the brain and body, permeating our structural integrity and the wholeness of our relationships with each other.
Taylor Dibbert reflects on the end of a relationship while Bill Tope relates the tale of a lonely woman who feels rejected in love and commits suicide. Farangiz Murodova’s breakup poem provides an elegant rendering of loneliness.
Zebo Ibragimova writes of the global scourge of drug addiction and the many lives affected. Pat Doyne speaks to questions of personhood and government authority in her poem satirizing a recent American court decision concerning in vitro fertilization. Emina Delilovic-Kevric evokes images of civilians oppressed by German military forces in a piece about the mental toll of society’s inhumanity.
Meanwhile, in a more abstract vein, Clive Gresswell crafts surreal images of invasion, decay and destruction.
Noah Berlatsky sends up a poem about the daily matters of life, such as breakfast, which continue even when our lives are in chaos. Wazed Abdullah compares the journey of life to a piece of music, to be experienced in all its different stages and moods.
Sherbekjon Salomov writes of the future potential of youth in Uzbekistan. Isabel Gomez de Diego revels in the beauty of a children’s playground in her photography.
In her literary essay on Tolstoy, Ravshanbekova Asalkhon discusses the author’s deep empathy for the poor and downtrodden. In Mashhura Umaraliyeva’s story, simple human kindness helps a girl lonely at summer camp. Sarvara Sindarkulova speaks to the importance of respect for parents. Muhammed Sinan describes his quest for goodness and compassion and Anila Bukhari’s poems reflect a deep faith and tender compassion for the human condition.
Ahmad Al-Khatat writes of learning from fellow immigrants how to move from fear to dreaming and hope, while Ellie Ness addresses the precarity and joy of travel.
Eva Petropolou speaks of seeking love and human connection, more family love and general compassion than romance. Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa writes of respect and empowerment for women and also crafts a tale of an eccentric character finding welcome in a small town.
We hope that you might also find a welcoming home for your own creativity within this issue, with its many poignant, tender, amusing, strident, thoughtful, eccentric, and inspiring pieces.
on this extra day
the hen leaps down & loses
one of her toenails
—
the first day of March
spaghetti marinara
& a banana
—
last week of winter
first time I've seen my nephew
in almost a year
—
bio/graf
J. D. Nelson’s poems have appeared in many publications, worldwide, since 2002. He is the author of eleven print chapbooks and e-books of poetry, including *purgatorio* (wlovolw, 2024). Nelson’s first full-length collection is *in ghostly onehead* (Post-Asemic Press, 2022). Visit his website, MadVerse.com, for more information and links to his published work. His haiku blog is at JDNelson.net. Nelson lives in Boulder, Colorado, USA.
Fountain
Her hand leaps into the air like spray
as she dances, dances through the shadows
in the hushed auditorium she wraps around her
all the long spring afternoon.
She seems to rise in a lover's arms
of air and fog and sunlight.
Her eyes glimmer, her lips
murmur sweet nothings.
The hair flows over the brim of her shoulders
down her transparent back. Swallows
dance in the rain that dazzles from her fingers:
she is a living fountain, and drowns all the boys.
____
Christopher Bernard is an award-winning poet, novelist and essayist. His most recent books are the first two stories in the series “Otherwise,” for middle-grade readers: If You Ride A Crooked Trolley . . . and The Judgment Of Biestia.
To walk on four legs or barefoot
and to go through a wall
to fall into
oneself
boneless
eviscerated
like with a hole in the head
through which
one could put a transparent finger
and touch one's colorless brain
the jar has been overflowing
with pain
I was so sorry for you…
then to sit and watch
all those atoms
being scattered into oblivion
drowning deep
you should have started
by picking up your bones
one after the other
to build something meaningful
with them
even fleshless
I've heard someone crying
in my neighbors’ apartment
they don't know who I am
anonymous building
inhabited by ghosts
busy with themselves
busy beating up their kids
abusing their wives
as if
they wanted to somehow
decry their hollow souls
