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{P.L.O.T.S.} – Creatives Magazine


Creativity Is Humanities Algorithm

🌹✒️Writings By Jakhongir Nomozov✒️🌹

Jakhongir Nomozov is a young Uzbek poet. He was born in 1997. I has been writing poetry and journalism. The works have been published in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan, Turkey, Bangladesh, Nepal, Morocco, India, Vietnam, Serbia, Italy America, Published on literary sites. Participant of the traditional Zaamin seminar of young poets. He is a member of the World Talents International Association. Winner of the Abay Medal.Amir Temur International Charitable Foundation is a holder of a commemorative badge. His poems are included in the books “Lyric Moments”, “Song of the Rivers”, “5 Opportunities for 5 Initiatives”, and “The Glory of Free and Prosperous Days”. In 2021, the book Rebellions in My Soul was published.


I have dreamed of flying since childhood.
Seeing the birds flying in the blue sky, surrounded by white clouds, I also want to fly…
I can only watch silently the birds flying over the fields, gardens, people, over the whole world.
I wish I could fly far away too…
I wish I could fly over people who trample me underfoot.
The desire to fly is in my dreams day and night, and it doesn’t leave my mind…
Every day in my dreams I fly over rivers.
I don’t know where I’m flying to?…
The river is full of people.
I also fly with the flow of the river…


The weather is very hot, I was walking in the coolness of the trees towards the bank of the river, looking at the clear waters flowing in a rhythm, and the noises of “pulling, pulling, big fish, big fish” summoned to me more strongly to the direction of the sound.
On the bank of the river, in the coolness of the trees, three or four people put fishing rods in the river and a group of people are watching them.
The fishing rod pulled with great force, the fisherman shouted at the top of his voice: “pulling, pulling big fish.”
The fishing rod is pulling the fisherman into the river, when he lost his strength, the fisherman called for help.
Two people barely pulled the fishing rod.
Finally, they pulled out the fishing rod.
A giant, snake…
Everyone was frozen to death, and my flesh shivered and shivered inside me.
Not knowing what to do, the people released the snake into the water.
I also continued my way in the shade of the trees on the river bank.
It’s hot, I really want to take a bath.
But they released a big snake into the river.
I hesitated to take a bath because I was afraid.
I finally decided to take a bath.
Now, while I was thinking of a more convenient and safer place to bathe, before I opened my eyes, the water of the river had dried up.
I always dreamed that I was big, like a fish in a river, swimming fearlessly and without danger.
There were snakes in the river at that time too, but I never saw one.
I have now realized all the wisdom.
I’m not the same…
It’s good that there is a snake, there is a snake in a ditch, and there is a snake in such a wide river…
The most terrible thing is that every night in my dreams, the river in which I bathe is half dry and a big snake comes out of it.
In order for the river of my dreams not to dry up, I have to bathe my soul and heart in the river of forgiveness in front of me.

Jakhongir NOMOZOV

* * *
My footsteps get heavier
The more I walk, the heavier these roads.
I could not know whether Almighty
Had sent to me these exams and odds?

My dawns get fully darkened
When I woke up with sorrow
When all of my wishes fell down
When I am in fire above and below.

Sitting alone with loneliness,
I drink my pain uttering a toast.
If I open my eyes from dreaming
I fell down from the sky to the dust.

You my dreams, please become my life
Unhappy days are only daydream ever.
Oh God, wake me up from my life but
Let me to be in dream forever.


Love is absorbed into my body,
I cannot help singing a love song.
Each of these poems that I wrote
Is an oath I gave to the truth.

The sparks you see in my eyes
Are the lights come from Heaven
And the wishes bloomed in my heart
Are the mirabilis you have never seen.

My hope will never wither, dry up
Spring always flourish my soul.
There is a great pain which is able to
Flourish my veins and bones at all.

I was made from love of The Almighty
Does the life know who I am?
In my tiny body, in my little chest
How much talent and love do I have?

Does the life know who I am?!

* * *
Life killed all the passion of mine,
Squeezing my heart like pomegranate.
He wanted to make my gentle white soul
Put on the sorrow’s black garment.

All my hope is becoming weaker and fading
My mountains collapsing down to earth.
Day by day my feet are plunging
Day by day my soul is losing its strength.

Lightning is crashing inside of me
As if my chest will be cleaved.
I am afraid, oh my Lord, I am so afraid
What if the whole sky falls down to my head?

Jakhongir Nomozov
Uzbekistan 🇺🇿

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