If love flows smoothly like a river,
As if listening to the melody of a nightingale
And recognise the world and its beauty
Like seeing love and chaos blended.
I can't help but have a sight of a girl,
The important piece to my puzzle
Like she's the most beautiful creation
And as unforgettable as a photographic memory.
Yet I always feel unworthy of her love
And my heart is locked in a cage,
But I feel empty without her love
And how long can I love her dearly.
It might drive me crazy
That she gives me butterflies,
But I always try to run away from it
As if I knew it deep from my heart.
a sugar maple leaf slips free
counting toward One proof
the Seven Mysteries
God, I count prime gaps
I watch prime numbers growing
only primes orbit
a rule sends one step
loops return periods double
recursion counts One
an iteration
within fluid smoothness frays
water turns inward
can you see the curve
study elliptic rank shifts
findings test the rank
questions spiral out
unknown patterns circle back
pi bends into sight
a proof can be checked
still search cannot prove it now
checking outruns search
every loop turns east
the count folds back into form
through form, God's Haiku
the sugar-maple leaf settles on frost
children of the corn start to awaken
He starts with the easy pieces~
the corners, the edges, the parts of life
that stay where they’re put.
But the sky refuses to behave.
Its fragments lift from the table,
hovering above his hands
like small constellations
waiting for him to remember
where they once belonged.
He doesn’t look startled anymore.
Some puzzles do that~
they rise when you’ve asked too much of gravity,
when the unfinished part of your life
decides it’s tired of lying flat.
He reaches for a star-shaped piece,
but it drifts upward,
as if the cosmos has opinions
about how he should finish himself.
He laughs under his breath,
the way someone laughs
when they’re almost ready
to admit the truth.
The truth is this:
he’s not assembling a picture.
He’s assembling a question.
Every floating shard of sky
is a reminder that the universe
isn’t something you complete~
it’s something you join
one piece at a time.
Empty seashore
The seashore is empty!
In the sea breeze, a vision—
your form!...
a puzzle!... with the pieces of your absence
joined in the refrain of the lapping waves—
pebbles, seaweed, and seashells.
Upon the emerging pebbles,
your light tread!...
An Aphrodite passing by,
steeped in the brine of youth,
leaving behind—in the fading wave—
a note of a wild waltz for this refrain.
Amidst the tangled seaweed,
your embrace!...
tight against the body of beauty,
loosened in the storm of desire,
two rose petals surrendered to the foam,
a note of stolen love—this refrain.
Upon the broken shells,
a shared promise—
the vow of an eternal love,
violated in the shifting sands,
like a shipwreck’s keel snapped in two;
the empty shoreline—a puzzle piece.
light cage up in the air,
freeing, a million birds wild ascending shadows
come falling down.
The rain is brightening now. The face is pale
the puzzle solved with an unexpected kiss,
freckled hands alit.
(Blackout of Rain Towards Morning by Elizabeth Bishop)
My dulciana
Agonised me again,
But the ballerina
Floored as I'd never been.
Warfare can not euphemize
With tiger reverberation;
We always decimalize
For vicinal desiccation!
Is a unifoliate unproductive
Or nonradioactive?
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 10–16, 2026)
Like a wet suit that is then dried, false-appreciation drives on by, imitating some who are important and others who are spent, but never embodying that soulfulness and unrest, like temerity giddy for another round, of gabbing about ribbons on fresh milk crowned, so eve sets like the sun rises, but where is the little white lie, when the sun rises?
To deny oneself of the things you are fond of
Long conversations, goofy talks
little candy of love and care
the melody of understanding each other
the wait for the phone to ring.
It's a shakespeare tragedy,
Falling out of the loop
Riding the cycle the wrong way
just to stand out and keep it cool.
It aches right at the core
to not have something you absolutely adore
But you sit silently for the sake of peace
or because you know It'd go unheard.
I don't know if that's love
For me it was always like roses
Either I forgot about the thorns or the lovely smell made it non-existent.
I try to comprehend it,
put the puzzle back into one piece
It might take time but well
a poet will never put her love to sleep.
~ Shreshtha Mishra
Darling J, it’s getting worse
And I can’t believe it’s true
The puzzle fits as if I’m cursed
For the deeds I didn’t do
It is more than truth these days
What’s established is the vision
Where I’m guilty, just in case
I may take the wrong decision
To act like I have the right
To be welcomed to the ball
And as loud as they might
They shall whistle, and I’ll fall.
Oil from the mount of olives, used on charlies pate..Stories below in Windsor
Jeanette Archer tells, of child torture,
Murder, and rape.' Maria Farmer also does
Fiona Barnet, they do not budge.' Virginia
Roberts, got paid much..But still she died
Maybe over such? Maggie Oliver, Jon Wedger knows Kevin Annett we hear and on it goes, anthony kidman and daughter
nichole along with epstein and maxwell all
Had their roles..The F B I swore they knew
Nothing.? And with marmalade
sandwiches i think -old lizzie did quite some
bluffing?'
Now back to Isreal and olive oil..Which old
lizzie also wore.' With treasure and spoils.'
And the stone of David.? That they sit upon
Link so much to Isreal.? Its a think a thon.!!
Trump with his kipper and biden and
the rest and death rape and torture.? Hmmm.?
What do you address.? (The era of con-vid?) And your violation.? We were a pagan
Sacrifice in all the nations ( were you told never to speak i'll ?) Of its reign.? Safe and effective you could only gain.' And the groves you will worship, under all things masked.' As you revel in serfdom..And await satans mark.?
spooky Christmas tree dances in witch Winnie Web's corner
candy bowl with pumpkin spice, sitting next to mourner
red and green candle is glistening with glitter said the bat
who is wearing masquerade mask to fool the hostess’s cat
the trick to being unseen is not dark shared merry ghosts
their grave words were spooky, if you asked the Christmas host
haunted bubble lights on the Christmas tree lit up the room
What five letter word starts with g and rhymes up with broom?
The only puzzle piece that's missing is you
Every dynasty has its patterns
the good, the bad but mostly the ugly.
In the place you reside, you still cannot hide each trait that has aligned one by one
from father to son.
Why does the truth spill when you’re pouring the wine?
Why is that what it takes, just to feel fine?
The first drop passes your lips, it’s your favourite crime
it’s clear to see bad habits survive the test of time.
Had you hoped for different, had you tried to erase?
The meaning behind that infamous face
or did you just know, that wherever you’d go
you’d be the villain in someone else’s show?
For many years it had seemed, you had strayed from the team
took away and built new lives brick by brick
but now, being here it’s frightfully clear that your name is the one thing that sticks.
You can shine head to toe
so that we all know, you’ve infiltrated the A class bourgeoisie, but it’s blatant to see that when piecing the puzzle that once was a muddle…
you’re the missing puzzle piece, now found.
At night I heard EUSTON A VU QUE JE N'ÉTAIS PAS SUE
An owl cried MONSIEUR HIBOU A MANGÉ MON VER DE MÉTAL
The dark seemed to play
With riddles till day
And echoes returned EUSTON A VU QUE JE N'ÉTAIS PAS SUE
A question was asked by **Naomi,**
Of "**Was it a car or a cat I saw**?" She'd see
A vehicular shape,
Or a feline escape,
A palindrome mystery.
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