always abatable from
anyplace but tuscaloosa
cockamamy downstream bunny
descriptive complain brewing
mistaking birthright crisis
meaningfully turmoil tryst
unvalued unpasteurized ureteritis
stewing vaticinate dejection
deflective firm folklore
through gynecologist communications
episodic honeydew gnaw
a crisply blunted
cheeseboard doorstopper looping
merry as can
be for evermore
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 17–23, 2026)
what is truth~
when every voice sounds the same
who remembers truth
A navigator
Looking for unknown answers
Today’s moon is blue
What is it about her
that sets my dreams afire?
How is it she brings out
each passionate desire?
Her presence is a myth;
maybe just a fantasy.
A phantom in my mind,
how deep can these feelings be?
I hear her soothing voice,
which echoes through my soul.
Yet absent is her heart
to fill a lover's role.
How can one find romance
when such a gulf lies between?
Can two hearts intertwine
when dreams remain unseen?
Will language be enough
to keep this spark alive?
Or must there be soft strokes
for true love's flame to thrive?
The answer's still unclear,
for life's a mystery,
but in my heart, I'll hope
that fate is kind to me.
I have learned that silence can sometimes feel like a room with no doors and yet some how still keep searching for meaning inside its shape Yearning for eternal rest not as an ending, but as forgetting the weight of being seen.
As I slip into the void of endless black, I do not fall so much as dissolve into thoughts I never said out loud.
There are voices I still carry deep inside me Your acidic tongue drips venom, and I learned how words can bruise without even touching skin.
Still, I stayed longer than I should have, mistaking damage for depth, mistaking that longing for love.Love that seeps from curling words into a floundering bloodstream and I feel it even now how something tender can travel through pain and I still insist on surviving.
I do not know what am becoming, only that I am no longer who I was when I began.
And maybe that is the quiet truth of it all to not escape, not arriving but continuing with everything still echoing inside me Am drowning quietly
Speak a present spell
I am healthy; at peace
My situation aligns
The cosmos answers
I am in abundance
My cup overflows
Cuhioned by crises
The cosmos answers
I am a pure maestro
Poetry writ often
Spells with words
The cosmos answers
I am a critical thinker
Morphing lived reality
Into options untapped
The cosmos answers
I am a Coach to many
Searching for direction
In dental careers and life
The cosmos answers
The quest of man
since dawn’s first breath,
to solve the riddles
of life and death.
Man’s mercurial mission
to reveal unattainable wisdom,
a doomed crusade,
a selfish mission.
You see the answers are all there,
but not for us yet
forcing the issue
will bring unfortunate regret.
As nature is one,
a unity within,
winds glide softly,
through what has always been.
It may be this oneness
that allows resolve
because there is nothing
that needs to be solved.
There is a natural order
with or without man
The cosmos has no questions,
simply all answers at hand.
Transformation wise
Skies exchange in interchange
Unknowingly to the world
Circumstance and situations come together
A world on notice
The world has questions to ask
The skies hold answers
In response, would the world believe or refuse
Perhaps confused
Understanding means having an open mind
Heaven who watches below on Earth
People’s history from the beginning to present
Observation cope
Keyword hope
Worldwide event
Pages of time
Maneuvering through the ages
Time unstoppable.
The stars are not distant,
but paths we have yet to tread.
He spoke of the silence
that lives in the words left unsaid,
And showed me that shadows
are only the absence of light,
Turning my world from a flicker
to burning and everso bright.
Lost in a spider's web of decisions I found answers
When we are young, we do not know
Exactly how our lives will go.
The answers dangle out of reach,
A barrier we cannot breach.
Yet as we grow, we grasp at clues
Enticing us to avenues
Which might just lead us to unwind
The skills by which we’ll be defined.
It might be music, sports or art
To set a spark to help us start,
Or maybe books or food or math
To lure us down a certain path.
Perhaps it’s just the urge to care
For those in need that takes us where
Our nurturing can make a dent
In those whose lacks are evident.
Some gravitate to entertain
Or build or mend or drive a train,
While others search but are resigned
To leave their unformed dreams behind.
Still, there is always hope that we,
At least to just a small degree,
Will match what DNA’s supplied
To something we can own with pride.
Happy joyous new month
For it's detty December
Don't play petty because of fetti
Put on your dancing shoes
Let's make history
Glory to our maker, is a month of victory
Love is the rhythm of the season.
It's the final month of the year
But another era
Boys dey para for the naira
Because no money no merriment
This festive season
Steadily reasoning how to cash out
Because money answers all things.
Let's embrace
The quiet beauty of the season
By appreciating the natural wonders
That surrounds and nurtures us
Seasons come and go
It's either it structure or torture you
It depends on your vibration.
Wishing you all a lovely detty December!
What’s behind the closed curtains outside
I can see from inside with my eyes shut
If the curtains are closed, or open wide
It makes no big difference of that
It’s the real time plot of the falling star
The stage is set for the play
While I’m not among the extras so far
Am I going to be there someday?
And if I had known that it’s all predetermined
Or it may well appear to be
Would I've been able to change the tale's end
To a distinguishable degree?
Charles Ives knew what to do, when he rearranged
The Unanswered Question piece
This late rearrangement doesn't sound too sage
So the answer is better be missed.
Oh, Life, a canvas of contradictions, a tale of strife,
I pose my questions to you, in search of meaning and life.
Why do the wicked thrive, while the righteous fade?
Why does evil reign, while goodness is oft betrayed?
Why must we toil for sustenance, and pay for earth's delight?
The land, the water, the air – gifts of nature's might.
Yet, we purchase them, as if they were commodities rare,
A paradox of plenty, in a world beyond compare.
Why do tears fall like rain, and hearts break with pain?
Why do we harbor hate, and struggle to love in vain?
Why does wealth wield power, while poverty's voice is hushed?
What of the marginalized, the vulnerable, and the crushed?
Why do disabilities afflict, and suffering beset?
Why does darkness prevail, and evil's presence is met?
I plant seeds of hope, but nothing seems to grow,
A barren landscape, where dreams wither and go.
Oh, Life, your mysteries are profound, your ways unclear,
Yet, in the questioning, I search for truth, and hold on dear.
Perhaps in the silence, an answer will resound,
A whisper of wisdom, that echoes all around.
Success is gratitude
For answering people's questions
Including those that were not asked
But implied.
And those unsaid questions, I believe
Are the most important
Artists, who are gifted with answers
On which the life of the perceiver sometimes depends
Receive the success they deserve
Fortunate is the human
Who is blessed with answers
Happy is the artist
Who gives back their gift.
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