I only saw the monster everyday
he ruined every single day
the pain i felt when you broke her down
Hit, swing , punch!
Each time tears automatically ran down
you stole the joy...run not a sound
Fear to flight ....clost space
Hands over ears, close my eyes
Make the monster go away
My dolls necks cut...crossed out eyes
a child 2, 3, 4, 5 years old
saw the monster scar my face
torn soul now grown
My story of the monster
While King Kong had the Empire State building,
Kitty Kat reigned over the train yards
striking terror in everyone crossing her path.
With bated breath, we hoped and waited
for some superhero to appear and save the day.
AP: 3rd place 2026
I broke a glass last night.
And in that loud, terrifying crash,
I was eight years old again -
watching yogurt drip onto the kitchen tile,
so small, and so completely sure
that this mistake meant I deserved to die.
I ran up the stairs
and hid in the dark,
wrapping my arms around myself
in a desperate, suffocating hug.
I rocked back and forth,
choking on hot, silent tears,
pounding little fists into my thighs
because I had to pay for what I did.
One beat, two beats -
it was never enough.
I tore at my own hair,
clawed deep into my skin,
so that in the mirror -
as blood dripped down my body
and purple lumps swelled to the surface -
I could finally see the reflection
of who I was:
a monster.
You grew up in a terrifying house
Full of screams and violence
Your father beating you and his spouse
Until it brought submission and silence
I could sense it in you
I wanted to help you, it’s true
I know that inside you there’s a hurt child
A fragile boy that became hostile
But your childhood trauma turned you into him
You became what you swore you'd never be
Your bright light slowly grew dim
Revealing the monster you hid within thee
Even so, my compassion got the best of me
I gave up all of me to save thee
In exchange, you slowly drowned me
Draining my light and life
I didn’t know you were my enemy
The worst monster I’ve ever seen
am district formulate jabber shakeout shuck snore southeastward strangle sunk was
tactfulness warfare
with inhuman
constrict your
expendable headmistress
noncritical nonradioactive
bombsight puff
leveling hippie
activism and
boundlessness beatniks
were receptor
to inducement
leech anestrum
always ballerina
trusting jazz
wallop the
alchemic turret
through spunky
foothold will
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 10–16, 2026)
I've had my fill of the surface scene for now.
Navigating this new age mania and tectonic indifference.
I'm sailing underground to anchor up in glia monster town.
They're all poisonous down here but mostly harmless.
They flash colors, so you know where you stand
There's a steep learning curve, that's for certain
But everybody minds their own, without demands.
There's no sparring for the attention of the sun.
Everyone is in shadow; we're equally grounded.
No keeping up with the Joneses and Jetsons.
We're cool as ice bears and snow penguins.
No biters here to abbreviate your fate.
No gamblers to piss away all your pay.
No sniffers or grifters playing smelly games.
No angels on milk cartons, the young are all safe.
No stompers or sliders in red surface shoes.
Bleeding out on our palette of sweet, baby blue.
Sometimes the clack on the surface
seeps down through the cracks.
That's when the Gilas become a bit restless.
With a flicker of grace, the polluted are purified.
Soon enough, peace is restored to its place.
Sliding back into the charity of silence.
I'm thriving and have no desire to surface.
It has been undone, the titled piece this is forerun and took that last leap of faith off the table, it has been tabled indefinitely like warlocks oft weasel, and so the middleman paid the price but Katie's price is not a lady of the night, so we gallivant and palaver so sneaky that shadowy nape, per-chance it prickled like steepes of the southern crates, so we sit in fervor only when we gather, like a wish made clearly in the night's dappled skyward cloth fixed the firm glance that must distrust, the wish indeed, a fervent oil, like early morning that has been left to roil.
you mean monster cookies, right? Asked Danny
No, I think I meant monster Granny
But she’s making the cookies, right? asked Jim
He did not like any dessert better than them
Do they have chocolate chips? Asked Lee
Yes, yes, yes, Pa and Jim both did agree
And oatmeal and sugar and molasses too?
Yes, and we will taste them when they’re through
But big fanny granny looks like a monster today
Her face is flustered, a greenish gray
That’s how she looks when she is the kitchen heat
But those monster cookies can’t be beat!
It had no eyes, just bulk in the corner, swirling thick as oily
mist, smelling of rot.
I tried to step away but the carpet flowed like quicksand,
digging my heels in as darkness crept upward.
It didn't move, but suddenly the room dropped bone-cold,
crystals dusting the glass in serrated patterns.
I reached for the lamp, but the plug ripped from the socket.
I was left with nothing but the sound of my own pulse.
Suddenly it stirred, slid swiftly toward me soundless and a
chilling weight began to squeeze my throat closed.
I opened my lips to cry out, rip the silence in two but my
lungs filled with nothing but ashen memories.
Black slammed against my lids and my vision went blank.
I waited for it to KILL ME!!!
Then, I woke up.
There’s a monster
under my bed
She said
Impossible to conster
Outside her head,
Its dialect was Fred!
Rabid poseur,
A kind word it pled
Love me instead
Of unicorns and teddy bears
That stuff and nonsense
Will desert you in the end
And only I will ever be your friend!
Once upon a time, Rumple
Stein sat by the glowing fire
and called the children close.
"Tonight," he whispered with
a wicked smile, "I will tell you
about the Dust- Gnasher."
This creature has skin like old
parchment and razor- sharp fingers
long enough to wrap around the
mattress.
It waits in absolute silence,
completely flattered beneath
your dark bed frame all night
long.
The moment the bedroom
lights click off, its yellow eyes
pop open in the shadows.
It listens for the sound of
deep breathing to know you
are finally fast asleep.
Then, it slowly slides out to
sniff the air, looking for tiny
bare feet hanging off the edge.
If you leave a toe uncovered,
it's cold, bristly tongue will
give it a tiny bite.
It loves to steal loose socks
and chew on plastic toys with
its full, clicking teeth.
"So tuck your blankets tightly
tonight," Rumple chuckled,
"because it is listening right
now."
Rumple Stein locked the
bedroom door and grinned,
his eyes reflecting the pale
moonlight outside.
"Beneath your very
mattresses lies the Shadow
Snatcher," he whispered,
pointing a crooked finger
downward.
"This skinny, faceless
monster stays awake forever,
hating the peaceful dreams
of sleeping girls and boys."
The children pulled their
blankets up to their noses,
freezing as the bedframes
creaked softly.
"He creeps out into the dark
because he desperately
wants to fall asleep like you."
A cold breeze swept through
the room, through all the
windows were tightly shut.
"Since he cannot rest, he
reaches up to steal your soul,
hoping its warmth brings him
sleep."
The youngest child
whimpered, realizing their
feet were hanging off the
edge of the mattress.
"If you close your eyes
tonight, he will snatch your
spirit right out of your chest."
Rumple Stein blew out the
lamp, laughing into the pitch
black, "Better stay awake forever!"
Fair lady, look down, see me in this hole,
beaten by a creature to be dreaded,
this ill-made, unsightly, disfigured, troll,
conquered by a monster many-headed.
The moment mother screamed and I was born,
the beast's heads stared upon me filled with hate.
I pared an ugly one that was called scorn,
and left home when I could to meet my fate.
Looming precariously from above,
the brute left me here in my final hour,
delivering dire blows - first pain, then love.
Dear lady, please place a futile flower
as I bid farewell to the woe and strife,
and the monster, now dead, but once called life.
Somewhere deep within me nestles
A savvy-looking monster wrestles,
Keen to emerge and probe the world
lest in hell he will have me hurled.
I was not sure, and I was not willing
to let him have too much a thrilling
He will come out and create mayhem,
and here lies the root of my problem.
It behooves me not to let the Genie out
It’s a moral dilemma with grim fallout
Keeping the Pandora’s Box tightly shut
Or my life gets caught in an endless rut.
~Contest: Faced with Monsters
~Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon.
Frankenstein was not afraid
of the creature that he made.
He grinned, and kindly said,
"Put a smile on your ugly mug.
Lighten up, you big ol' lug".
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