a satiric
spunky sperm
twisty tippytoe
through the
outdoor civilization
renewing fairway
to engorge
prospect goat
recasting stubble
noninfectious vibrational
hubbub pyrophobia
luridness hallelujah
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 3–9, 2026)
Fields Sun
. Water Time
. Ripen chop
. Harvest crop
. Cereal
. Nibble chew
. Swallow fill
. Fibre Smile
Happy Tummy
Definition: programmed cell death/cellular suicide
in an attempt to remedy damaged components,
neatly shrinking and dismantling damaged parts.
A cognitive dissonant conscious
exists at a crossroads.
My mind fractures at the mere thought
of going back into the closet of deferred romantic pursuits,
even if hiding can ensure survival.
My dilemma encapsulates the quintessential concept of coming out.
Taking a step out of closeted comfortability
opens up the avenue for external toxicity,
while retreating into latent potential is
unintentional self-immolation.
For men I have heard it said
now let's get real
You are only as young
as the woman you feel
Chronologically I am almost seventy eight
biologically I am only thirty four
Am aiming to live way past
this so called "old' age of four score
Pretend I am Methuselah who reputedly reached
the age of nine hundred and sixty nine
Disputation, were they solar years or lunar months
a pristine environment no doubt reduced the ageing rate of decline
No matter how long I'm here
it's quality of life I'll always seek
Live in the moment there is no future or no past
quantity we have some choice I'll always strive to reach my peak
Sometimes I feel a loosening,
not a rise or fall
but a sideways slip
into the body’s secret dream~
the one it keeps folded
behind the pulse.
Inside, everything is surreal.
The ribs bloom like pale petals,
opening and closing
with a slow botanical breath.
Capillaries curl like red vines,
twining around thoughts
I haven’t had yet.
I wander deeper,
past the soft machinery
of muscle and memory,
where neurons spark
like tiny bioluminescent fish
darting through a midnight reef.
The heart meanders by~
not beating, but floating,
a warm, wandering lantern
in search of its own echo.
I follow its glow
into a chamber~
where cells gather like pilgrims,
trading stories in chemical syllables
I almost understand.
Here, my body feels ancient~
a living archive
of every dream, wound, wonder
I’ve ever carried.
And as I move through it,
I realize I’m not leaving myself
but meeting myself
in places I never knew existed.
An inner-body experience~
not escape,
but entry
into the surreal biology
that has held me
all these years.
I hold back the action
Admirable though it would be
Frozen mammoth restrained
Introspectively
Or a beetle in amber
Polite and decorative
Without a reaction, Thermo-
dynamically
Fear is involved
Other causes urge forward
Contributing thrust
Abandonedly
Thus it is peace becomes us
In this country of marvels;
Motivations in balance
Inescapably
am i alive?
what classifies something as alive?
respiration
i am breathing
but just barely
trying to capture any air i can between sobs
growth
i am growing
it becomes increasingly difficult
recognizing myself in the mirror every day
and believing the next age i'm turning
excretion
i am excreting
i sweat when i do pretty much anything
even though i'm always cold
is there something wrong with me?
or am i just overthinking again?
reproduction
i am not reproducing
i can
but i'm not sure i want to
i wouldn't be a good mom
i'm worried i'd be too much like my own
metabolism
i am metabolizing
i always claimed it to be fast but maybe
it's since it doesn't have much to work with
movement
i am moving
my body does it without me knowing
or being conscious
it just moves
response to stimuli
i am responding
i respond too much
too dramatically
too sensitively
i fit all the criteria
so i guess i am alive
i'm just not living
She would do our heads in, but It’s not that I didn’t value her great teaching skills. Her strategies and patterns always stood out. The tool of teaching was used to best effective use by her, I can ensure you of that, in fact it was levels beyond the rest.a record, a memory that can’t be broken.
In years to come we will remember those days. Sometimes she would cry thinking we might all fail, other times she would laugh with us or at us. I suppose that’s all just part of life, but she did love our class From the core and heart, well that’s what I think.
We thank you for all your hard work and dedication, but in saying that, teaching us must have been so hard.
I want you to know that you will remain in our thoughts, as long as you promise to continue to do people’s heads in and always to stay sound
Biochemistry, the language of life,
Spoken in the smallest of parts,
Yet felt in the grandest of forms.
Biochemistry, the alchemy of nature,
Transforming simple elements
Into the majestic tapestry of life.
Biochemistry, illuminating life’s invisible pathways,
Guiding us toward a deeper understanding
Of the complex molecular web that shapes life.
Biochemistry, the molecular blueprints of existence,
Empowering us to unravel life’s mysteries,
And harness its potential to better humankind.
To study biochemistry is to decode
The code of life, written in the language
Of atoms, elements, and molecules.
It's a scientific fact
That biology is an empirical source of truth
And no amount of ideological attacks
Will ever change that.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly 2022.
30/4/22
dear mother,
your nurturing is so warm that my DNA denatures because of it,
but at the same time your neutral appearance reseals it.
my bonding to you is like protein structure it takes step to become strong,
like primary, secondary ,tertiary and quaternary structure.
whenever i see you mom, my pitutary start releasing oxytocin,
that gives a positive feedback to my brain.
you are the 3 line of defence of my body,
simply you are oxygen of my life,
as without you cellular respiration and vital organs will not work.
She just would like to marry
And her own wedding flowers carry;
On this no longer tarry,
For she can babies carry;
Yep, on this cease to tarry;
Fast make it like Ferrari!
Time to start hating Arnold Harry,
Who mainly cares about eating Garri,
Determinedly wasting time
While it is quite ripe time
To judge this a real crime
And add that it tastes like lime.
She, sure, should try The Ageing man,
Whom she knows as only Dan,
Who has been her sparing a smile
And in it no obvious guile …
And she shall Harry owe no apology,
Who has majored in Biology,
Child bearing risky after Thirty-five,
With God out of it and one won’t be alive.
I look like a Pope's cap, hence my name
Encased in a fit and firm, fibrous frame
My large hands clap
To the great pump's tap
I keep blood flowing, as that is my aim
I am so sparse, I am so scarce
I am so rare but I am no farce
I am the one and only hence so lonely
I exist on earth in Forty three only
"Simple living and High thinking" is my steadfast motto
You need a powerful microscope to take my stunning photo;
Uninvited though, I do enter.. the cozy home of my host
When I come out with a brand new coat, the host, alas, is a ghost
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.