The Mirror Under The Rain The other woman says that she loves your chest even your words have a way to unhook her bra to thaw in your amorous destination. Don’t forget about your promises, She begins and ends her daylights thinking about nobody but yourself. Try to understand her, don’t break her. She says that your lips flavours is not in the liquor, perhaps, she starts to sip your presence in her morning cup of tea. She sees you as great as her heartbeats. You spend your youth looking for a new love The first time she held a man’s hand was yours Since then, she adores the way you caress her breasts, her hair. In front of the mirror under the rain…
Photography from Isabel Gomez de Diego
Poetry from John Edward Culp
+
We are alongside
the LOVE
With us
☆ Heart reins
about & within.
Your
House is undiminished
Rest now
this cup is pure aether
Before after &
Between
Unsourced
as faith
Rings the
touch
An
untimely presence
turns its own clock
whenever it joins in Trust
The universe is
in verse
A story
told
And quite frankly
Still quite
young
............
by John Edward Culp
Sunday morning
January 28, 2024
Poetry from Mykyta Ryzhykh
*** а chick that has fallen from a nest into the water cannot swim the water becomes covered with a crust of ice the chick feels like a fish in its belly the world poured out from the cracked shell spills out into the silensе a dead hen laid a wasted vain egg *** dragonfly drinks the voice of stone the night swallows up the spring *** tree turns into a crucifixion cross no one asks the tree why it grew I kiss you while you sleep in next your dreams no one asks me what I wish for *** you need to dress warmer because the cemetery under the bed is still growing and the snow continues to fall in silence for silence to silence flowers dream of knowing nothing about the grave and I don’t want to know anything about you about snow about death sperm looking for its nest the nest is looking for something to fill its emptiness I'm aiming a shooting star at my temple the world around goes out *** Horizon blushes Sunrise hues in bloom cascade Daybreak's painted sky (With AI) *** Ocean whispers softly, Tides paint poetry. (With AI) *** a leaf of my soul is torn off I haven't seen sakura for a long time I've never seen sakura *** the master's face in the mirror of my freckles *** bird gypsum my eyes are stuck in the web of the sky *** Who among us has not fallen in love with a young Justin Bieber in his youth? Icons with saints and a poster with pop stars are torn off the walls of a collapsed house Star 82 review reprint *** the swallow is crying blue *** brother is a brute brutus *** I won't be able to be one day *** stomach ripped open with tears *** headlight light lantern light eye light night in the hood *** In the moonlit forest I want to die australopithecus *** the drum dies loud *** the notes of the music will evaporate in the air *** injury leaves grass and glass water and sun *** dry cough wet forehead winter *** T r e p T r i p R i p I p I *** The stars drowning in the night Do not shine for anyone *** Even kittens can die *** I go out into the snow I become snow *** I'm drawing I'm drawing I'm drawing I'm blind *** Green grass Green glass Injuries *** Beetles can't sing *** The dog god was born in the cold Every dog came into this world cold From what silence of thought to mold the resurrection and death of a pagan god And suddenly God will not be resurrected? Will it suddenly turn out that this god does not belong to the pagans? All the religions of the world struggle with the bag of death Is it for life? Cowardice is noted by every dog Fleeing is blood-soaked Hunger or the palms of the dog god The palmless paws of the dog god Godless dogs Every stray dog is a dog god born in the cold (The Wise Owl reprint) *** autumn draws winter *** how a chicken uses a microwave a black star lights up in the sky burn like chicken on the grill or live like a bird that cannot fly for slaughter *** kings are everywhere even in the mirror *** tastes could not be discussed the proud tree is silent as before but now in the form of a paper cup for coffee *** no one asked the grass why it grew and uprooted it the grass is our home grass is our glass wallpaper glue doesn't hold the wallpaper of the homeless well *** baby was born in the grass grass was born in a child the sun shines in the summer for everyone
Poetry from John Mellender
Learning Situation There may, especially in times of civil int’resting unrest, be hid ‘midst heroes – who’d solve crimes, believing weaker folks’ good best – badged rogues who’d stop at no excess – to savagery against suspects, karate-chop pat-downs, regress; on courage, honor, cast their hex, leave victims sexually tortured. Idealists who took a stand, Once let out of this devil’s-orchard, must face their love, although unmanned. Their love is beauty, nothing less, who knows to love where courage grows but now finds love a harrowed mess – distrait, stand-offish. Why? Who knows? One may have suffered worse groin pains in downhill bike falls, but – it’s strange – this ache won’t go away. The change will bring unbid but oft’ his brains all addled vivid bright recall of dingy green precinct back room, his hands upon the chilly wall, his legs spread wide in civic gloom. We’d cellmates been in protest time – while I too had attacked a pig, foolhardy vainglory for rhyme it was – hardly a thing as big as bravery. (Though like outrage they’d dealt me, small discomfort lingers – my first night free did much assuage. I’m just glad they spared my fingers.) They’d thrown him howling through the door: “Strike, coward scum, and from behind – thus justice mock since law’s no more where peacekeepers have lost their mind!” He ceased his anguished hoarse harangue and climbed onto the upper bunk. Our cell door slid closed with a clang as back into my bed I sunk. His thrashings kept waking me up for long into ceaseless glare. I gave him water in a cup, he fin’ly slept without nightmare. Then after quiet hours went by wherein he didn’t even snore I guess he must have heard me sigh for, leaping to the iron floor he said his name, stuck out his hand. I shook it, told him “Call me Jack.” He taught up at the college, planned This lecture for when he got back: “When any revolution’s inchoate if it’s at all, such autocratic lock the Powers have on ev’ry human fate the chance that dissidence with fight will mock the pomp of armed enforcers isn’t great. Few act upon disgust that many feel. But character, integrity will rate with some despite the odds, which are surreal. Then luckily the losers themselves find In what we call a learning situation: What ruthless motherfuckers do them bind Is matter for the wonder’s contemplation.” I said that would his students well Forearm. He thanked me. We discussed specific treatment, what befell us both since brought in on this bust, and which side in particular – they differed ‘tween the both of us – received insult testicular. He then reflected – with a cuss: “It seems this adds another facet to passions positive as well – how tell my girl now in tacit accents exactly what a hell her country is, what fiends its cops, what force ensures wage-slave docility, what gratis ache that hardly stops our bliss infects and my virility – No! – she must be carefully shunned. A note with disengagement ring will say, ‘Sweetheart, love’s moribund. You’re not to blame, though, that’s the thing. You know you take it personal when griefs hit folks that aren’t their fault. But now the ghetto I’ll home call while you continue to exalt delight – but new guy overjoy – for I this shaman must consult to help your mad ex-lover-boy again in ecstasy exult….’ – I’ll not write that, just disappear. To flee’s the better part of valor. Of missing history buff she’ll hear, I’ll spare her any further pallor.”
Essay from Lobar Davronova
21st century is the era of technology and today we cannot imagine our life without social networks. Just like “every good thing has its bad side”, social networks have their good and bad aspects, of course. Well, let’s take a look at both sides of this issue.
Today, 95 percent of the population of our republic widely use social networks (Telegram, Instagram, Facebook, Google…). Because the Internet has become one of the main needs of our daily life. In addition, there is a saying that social media and the Internet make our distance closer and our burden lighter! Now we don’t have to travel thousands of kilometers to see our relatives and friends who live in another country or region, get the books we want to read from a library far away from us, spend money to buy the necessary manuals and textbooks, or waste time and deliver the necessary document for our workplace. All these tasks can be done easily and conveniently through social networks. As an example, today I have many friends who live in different regions of our country and other countries. Samarkand, Bukhara, Tashkent and several others… I have not visited all these places, of course. I met, exchanged ideas and then became friends through social networks. In addition, until now, some of my creative works have been published in newspapers and magazines of several countries, such as Turkey, Germany, and India. Of course, I don’t need to go to those state publishing houses and presses in order for my creative products to be seen in the world. I can find the e-mail addresses of any state newspapers and magazines and contact them using only Telegram or Facebook. In such situations, we really feel that social networks are an integral part of our lives.
But we must admit that the main part of our life is spent on media sites such as Instagram and YouTube. Especially in our society, there are many people who watch other people’s lives and lifestyles through Instagram, comment on them, put their own lives aside, and waste their valuable time by “liking” strangers’ videos or photos. As a result of many distractions in such programs and networks, there are many family disputes, among us there are people who fell under the influence of the virtual world and separated from their personal life by loving gadgets…
Basically, everyone has their own limits and rules for using social networks. I cannot come to a firm conclusion that they should not be used, but taking into account both aspects, it is appropriate to always use them in moderation, in my opinion.
Lobar Davronova. Uzbekistan
Poetry from Nilufar Ergasheva
*** Autumn leaves us badly, Fall down dear maple trees... Autumn is hard for us Began to sell faiths, plows. The price will be high, Endless love means. Last winter was like a famine I have had enough of patience. ...Oh, it's winter! The blanket of the village is on fire! Every ignorant, stupid person dried the pillow. Be: "I write! I don't care!" I walk one step, of wide hills Can I restore your clothes? In which sun will I dry now, Dad's waterproof boots. The eyelashes of pleasant gardens are wet, Like me, he reads and cries at night. This is a village, even if it is a patchwork He had a whole heart! When the foxes outside tease Snakes wait in the shelter, Wow! Hey! Thief dogs are fun My dad's only boot is amazing
Nilufar Ergasheva was born in 2005 in Fergana region. Erkin Vahidov graduated from creative school. Currently, she is a student of the 1st stage of UzMU and the winner of the State Prize named after Zulfiya.