the bystander dutifully reading obediently
at a casement with sidearm
is competitively assuming
that our souari acreage hijacking
haliotis ostreidae alismatidae
mucilaginous lithographic osmundaceae
through ceratodontidae
in an airless helwingia
cascade from her exacum cardiographic heap
as your jeweled cuckoo awakened
into this fiendish confrontation
by enlivened catharsis
lacerate fission will scatter
you let me snuggle ?
we were restorative
but siegfried and I unite
never unturned .
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
Brewed with similar ingredients
as when baking bread,
a Maßkrug of beer in Germany
is called a 'glass sandwich' instead.
Yet, as half a loaf
is better than none,
if the glass is half full,
and another half empty,
of the two,
which is the optimal one?
Use your imagination.
I am an asteroid speeding into outer space. I am a new species
**undiscovered by the human race**
I am a whale or a dolphin in the sea. I am unique and can be anything I want to be
I am a mountain with snow upon my peak. Now I am a dam with a hole that has sprung a leak
I am now a lion hunting my prey. Now I am darkness that has taken the light away.
I am a teacher who teaches right from wrong. Now I am a famous pop star who will sing my hit song
I am a busy bee collecting loads of honey now. I am a millionaire who has lots of money
I am the sand that makes the sandy beach; now I am the impossible dream that is just out of reach
I am now myself one of God’s creation but when you want to be something else, you only have to use your imagination
I would think? Its the stronger way to go..Buyers will always chase a good
Deal, and it negates more war damage
Just ' my feel ' thats what I would do, were
I Iran? $75 bucks a barrel, would be my plan ' Let market forces lead the way, a
Whole worlds economy.' Is whats at stake
I hear many pundits say.' Well let them
beat a path to Tehrans door' even if its overland as
Far as i last heard.? Basic sanity and maths ( have yet to be banned! )
many uv y'all can not read mine writes on your hand held because;
i center mine writes....i wuz informed recently that that issue haz uh
resolve:
Download & turn on Reading mode
To use Reading mode, your device must run Android 9 and up. Reading mode currently is only available on Android phones.
On your Android device, open the Google Play Store app .
At the top, search for “Reading mode.”
Select the Reading mode app .
Tap Install.
Open the Reading mode app .
Follow instructions in the tutorial. You get redirected to the Accessibility Settings menu.
Tap Reading mode.
Turn on Reading mode shortcut. A prompt displays.
To allow Reading mode permissions, tap Allow.
mine prey this helps ,)
*prey spell'd wit thuh astute think ')>
What happens when we use up all the words
Tie up phrases to often spun
Sit in chairs while wondering
Why these spindly legs no longer run
Have we lost sight of visions dawn
Lost our souls amid a darkening day
Cursed the butterfly to fly alone
Believe the moment froze and so must stay
As far away a crayoned hand awakes
And on a crumpled page sees more than we
For everything is new and bright and fresh
For joy has found an open heart as nest
Are words but inert beings in life’s race
And we but weary poets giving chase
They will use your skin as leather
if you let them
They will peel your bones to eat your marrow
If you let them
They will rip off your scalp for a wig
If you let them
They will eat your children's guts
If you let them
They will use your skin, peel your bones, rip off your scalp, eat your children’s guts
Don’t let them.
Should eyes suffice, what use more words?
They tell no lies, what use more words?
She was my youth’s brave adventure,
A golden prize, what use more words?
For using a world of vague words
Paid have I price, what us more words?
It’s too late now to realize,
Be with words wise, what use more words?
Time comes in life, you close the eyes
And when heart tries, what use more words?
Fewer words do make good ghazals
And short’s good size, what use more words?
When silence be the best of tongue,
Words fail to rise, what use more words?
_____________________________
Ghazal | 10.02.2026 | adventure, eyes, silence, words, youth
It’s midnight
And I’m in somebody else’s bed
Instead of my own
Why do I do the things I do?
Is there something wrong with me?
Well, if I have to ask
Maybe I already know
But I like that you do these things with me
I feel close to someone
Or something
Even though I know it’s not real
It’s playing pretend
Discovering the boundaries of our bodies
And seeing where it takes us
Or me
Where is it taking me?
I realized I’m intrigued with the idea
Of having your attention
No, I don’t like you that way
But you like what you see
That’s enough for me
That’s enough to pull me in
Maybe that’s what I crave
So I’m telling you to use me
And let me know
Not because you want me
But because I need you to
in the coffee cup the spider hides way down deep
She makes no noise, no whimper or peep
I learned to drink my coffee from another cup
I don’t want to rile this brown recluse up.
Every substance I used to do were done of my good will.
Though I resent how a few would oh so carelessly spill
About my solo choices; I just wish they would've been more chill.
Using yesterday's news as a table cover.
While painting these blank wooden coasters.
Firstly applying coated layers of metallic silver,
Then stamping flowers in gold and red colours.
They say to try to preserve each fragile flower
That I chose from her funeral's viewing casket.
It's just I've no idea how, but I do still love her,
So instead I'll dip them in a paint-filled basket.
I decided instead of only grieving her absence,
I'll let my inner muse be creatively so free,
Make presents; make better known presence.
I realize I rather much be like her: keep busy.
So I'll make use of my grandma's newspapers,
In memory of her strengths as a lovely woman.
I'll be like her: one whose love never wavers.
I also now realize who I am as my own person.
I thought their smile a summer thing—
A warmth without a seam,
But frost will echo summer’s trust
When ends unmake the dream.
They bent as if a willow bends—
Compassion in its guise,
Yet paper leaves dissolve to ash
When winter tests their lies.
A friendship held in hollow hands
Will scatter like the dew,
For truth is not in what they claim
But what they fail to do.
So let them fade like lantern smoke
That drifts without a will—
A heart that’s real keeps burning on,
A counterfeit grows still.
I would never intentionally use a ghost writer
and yet, I often do not recognize a poem I wrote yesterday
because there is a section of me that writes poetry fast and furiously
these poems pop out onto pages in spurts and sparks
I can barely type fast enough to capture them
are they coming from me?
from somewhere inside me
I always blame my muse Trixie
for she is bossy and persnickety and has to have her own way
this surely could not be me
I strive to write ten poems a day
Some days I write as many as thirty
One day I wrote forty-nine
I would never intentionally use a ghost writer
I don’t have to
they said he drained them —
not with charm
but with a syringe.
office door closed,
fake smile,
real bad smell.
the papers called him a vampire.
he was worse.
blood dripping in tubes,
dripping like old beer from busted taps
in dead bars at 2 a.m.
no bats, no castles,
just a slob in a tie,
a geek who found horror
in a bored suburb.
he worked next to you.
smiled like you.
laughed at the same bad jokes.
but inside,
a desert rat,
a hunger with no god.
they caught him,
but there are others —
thousands of others.
the real monsters wear your clothes
that they steal from your dryer.
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