Best Medicine Sometimes making someone laugh is the best you can hope for on cafeteria sandwich and soup Thursdays, when the promise you were promised has gone quiet as a bad joke. It’s those silent moments where your thoughts heckle every choice you made, as if you can never be right, and your only choice is to hide behind a smile, hoping no one notices what you leave in those empty bottles most Friday nights.
Poetry from John Edward Culp
Once Upon a Time
An Adventure
"Liquid Light - "
where the light transitions
from unvectored
to revectored
Time is not measured.
This allows travel
without Delay.
Being where
Already
exists.
& I AM
Lost the journey,
This Once.
Once Upon a Time
An Adventure
Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee
Numbered Days. By Sayani Mukherjee Given that i have numbered days In this squirmy square of vale, I trotted upon Reveries of a history long lost cradled In a parallel world within my own. There I carved a niche of hunting And belching each aching stroke With soft hearsay of my other religion. Kindled and fumed within a Circle of engravings- There, men trailed footsteps for the after river And each goodbyes swarmed With a round teasing of heightened grief, That soothed by ointment Of jasmine fragrance of life lived In harmony and grace uttered with Him.
Poetry from Christina Chin and Matthew Defibaugh
harmony in the midst of an orderly universe . . . earth's chaos invisible from outer space Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh lonely night how long this cold winter river train leaving for home Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh boarding the same train . . . different destinations a cluster of felled branches in the olive’s shade Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh a few strands of hair caught on her lips golden field season her sequined gown blows them away Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh uneasy night the whining horse in a haunted barn the old nag telling his fate Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh
Poetry from Jack Galmitz
BUFFALO MEMORIES Steve was energy. No denying it. There it is in the photograph taken in his backyard; the mouth is tense as speaking consonants without vowels is his arms are sharp and his torso turns to attend or demonstrate stilled now by the shutter's click. There is motion blurring tending to the barbecue he is charged as a downed wire in a down pour. His guests sip Genesee beers gripped by the necks and chat of texts and signs and the many things.
Photos from K.J. Hannah Greenberg
Synchronized Chaos Mid-June 2022: Bittersweet Reflections
Welcome, all, to June’s second issue of Synchronized Chaos. This month’s contributors take a step back, contemplating our world and our lives. Many show thought and care, aware of the loss and grief around us, and even the more celebratory or humorous pieces draw upon our fragility for inspiration.
Mark Blickley and Miss Unity’s ekphrastic work shows the vulnerability of a silent performer who must gesticulate for her living.
Multimedia work from Jeff Crouch, Soumailia Zoungrana, and Diana Magallón also involves performance, a dancer giving a very athletic performance in old-time gritty black and white, as if she’s a legend fading with time. Stephen Crowe sketches out a scene at a dying California lake.
John M. Brantingham’s novel excerpt deals with the passage of time. Its main character is an old man facing death, unsure how or when to share that news with his grandson.
Tess Tyler presents a lovely scene of outdoor family life in Northern California that turns into a lament for murdered children, while J.K Durick comments on gun violence and rising gas prices and Lewis LaCook’s surrealist poems probe death, intimacy, and wildfires.
Ahmed Aminu and Yahuza Abdulkadir mourn political corruption, violence, and social injustice, as does Mahbub, in a collection otherwise devoted to time-stopping moments of connection and beauty.
Candace Meredith’s short story brings the poetry of a fairytale to the real-life drama of drug addiction and recovery. Amos Momo Ngunbu’s piece also highlights the social influences we can have on each other, for good or ill.
Chimezie Ihekuna reflects on how social shame inspired him to falsify his report card as a child, and how his deed was discovered. Fatihah Quadri also remembers childhood vignettes entertainment from a friendly neighbor who has since passed.
Benyeakeh Miapeh contributes elegant, figurative verse about grief, while Ayiyi Joel reflects on the touch of a lost love.
Stephen House describes memories of the past and of lost causes. Steve Brisendine’s poems set in America’s heartland explore what we remember, what happened and what didn’t.
Robert Ragan’s piece skirts the fine line between describing the anger stage of grief and the way love can turn to possessiveness and hate.
J.J. Campbell’s poetic speakers are misanthropes on the edge of society who still crave some type of human companionship, although by sexually objectifying women of color.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan also writes poems of middle age, but with heavy helpings of humor tossed in with the laments.
Mehreen Ahmed’s pieces convey sanctity and privacy, while Michael Robinson reflects on the comfort he finds in Christ.
John Culp’s work illuminates the physical sense of elation. Ojo Olumide Emmanuel’s poems can serve as expression of his feelings, but can also seek lives of their own, independent of his will.
This month includes visual art as well: striking photographs of signage from Hannah Greenberg and graffiti-style work from Texas Fontanella.
Thank you for reading June’s issue of Synchronized Chaos.
