always
blotchy
crinkly
drudge
ensemble
faultlessly
godlike
hip
in
knitwear
louis
monterverdi
nympho
of
pimply
railing
smashing
tasteslessness
unquietly
viscous
was
your
zamang
Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
Haunted by your gasps come eventide
the shimmer of vour shirt climbs
and rugged flesh of your torso
Traces those hips
as I fondle the crease from your spine
... to fine mold Brach's melody,
its mellow refrains accompanying
spatter of viscous honey ;
In a voice of sizzling quiet
that makes your arms part my sea ,
I inhabit wedded bliss in the mists of your eyes
and night's starglow melts before me:
This fragrance of total surrender
leads me to one , undefined moment
while I blossom delicately---
until we tremble as one
my nectar overflowing.
The air in the basement archives
tasted of rotted velvet and wet
copper.
A low, wet breathing synchronized
perfectly with the rhythm of your
own pulse.
Skin-bound ledgers bled dark,
viscous oil onto the warped oak
on the floorboards.
The whispers began, raspy
and toothless chanting your
true name from the shadows.
You looked down to find your
own fingers drying, flattering,
and turning into yellowed
parchment.
The emergency exit signs bled
into a deep, sickening crimson
that cast no light.
Something tall, loose- limbed,
and blind crawled upside down
across the ceiling timbers.
Every exit had vanished, replaced
by endless, towering stacks of
blank, waiting tombstones.
Needle-sharp, paper -thin claws
drove deep into your shoulders
from behind.
The entity peeled back your chest
to index your beating heart under
CLASSIFIED!.
I learned to swim in waters of amoeba
You shout "Regarde!" as I float to the surface
But it's far from Paris in this viscous river
Your hands of guidance turned to scoffs
Trading my pain for stacks of coins~
I no longer hear the crowds beg for mercy
Forced to nurse groupings of septic cells
My chest covered in ripples and blisters
The wet nurse of a generation of youth
Doctor, how come I must be a vessel?
Because my skirt fell above my knees
My womb is no factory of steel
All of this for more soldiers to train
For the crippling economy and labor
Why must your wealth stay tightly packed?
I will never earn my dress of white
Men of our nation will deem me impure
Forever a mandatory mother, never a wife
My body shall remain my own
Free of your legislature~
I fear death not for its permanence,
nor the inability to evade it,
but because I crave the word dancing on my tongue...
a mercury drop that splits and reunites,
drips from my lips like viscous iodine, ground glass,
and thick, cold nectar I'd never yearn to savor.
It is fast, a mechanical, shrieking bird
snatching the meaning from every word I've ever spoken.
It is a first love,
a phantom seen in my childhood nightmares,
a familiar bone in my being,
and I've never ceased loving its velvet rot.
What I yearn for I must fear:
When I acquire it,
my mouth will fill with ashes
and there is nothing else I can have or want,
and I will spend eternity cleaning my teeth with my rib.
Viscous flow in thin veins
Vitals are dancing like the willow tree
Up and down she goes
Oil and water do not mix
So much as you and I
cannot hold the same space
We can no longer come together without something in between us as if it was gluing us with spite
for the extra effort
We breathe with viscous flow and utter words of contempt
We do not mix
Yet they all say
we are a montage
Green-eyed emotion erupts from warm emerald eyes
A viscous volcano erupts in my haggard heart
It's magma-traction under bright azure skies
Let's charter a dream and an island we'll chart
We'll sail soft waves South, on specific breezes
While the stars and the moon dangles their art
On sea's lofty breezes, the Pacific teases
To an island where all of my fantasies start
My green-eyed wondrous wonder, where wonders await
Igniting my wanton wishlist, scorching my eyes
My volcano erupts, and our flames soon relate
Then Heaven's gate opens, revealing my prize
I'm on an Island, in Heaven, with a Queen
Warm breeze, and these coral seas, speckle my view
And those same magma-scopic eyes of lush green
Sparkled all my fantasies and dreams that came true
An Angel,
How could you breathe life into someone so twisted, rotten to the core?
A Beauty,
How can something that came from you be so ugly, inside and out?
A Queen,
A calamity your face sits on a peasant, so unworthy of your image.
A Warrior,
How can an offspring of yours be this weak and pathetic?
A Champion,
A shame you bore a loser that is always defeated, giving nothing but disgrace.
A Saint,
How come something that's supposed to be of you have turned out so viscous, cruel and unkind?
But the real question is,
How can someone as perfect as you beget a monster like me?
Viscous lava disc
Surface shifts in slow motion
Dropping languidly
When the land was smooth, life brand-new
In Eden, there lived one, then two
Since the Earth's dawn, man walked as youth
Life brand-new, when the land was smooth
In the garden were two sweet blooms
Under the care of watchful grooms
Viscous phrases made ears harden
Two sweet blooms were in the garden
Between grapevines, our foe hid
Still in great ruling halls amid
Presents his wrath like mocking wines
Our foe hid between grapevines
Broken cisterns marking his path
Like mocking wines presents his wrath
The cast of youth weakly discerns
Marking his path, broken cisterns
Love is the lubricant of the soul and the emollient of the heart, both
Unguent and viscous, it glides like butter in the summer heat
Banish it from your life and suddenly everything will dry up, like a
Rose wilting by winter's call. Lubricate love with a sense of purpose
Invite joy to sit at your table and oil your dreams with hope.
Care for your inner self and nurture your mind and body....
A lubricant made of peace and forgiveness can reduce friction
Nature has a way of polishing and moisturizing the mind and
Truth be told, gratitude can be the greatest lubricant of them all.
Written May 30th for Contest by Craig Cornish
*****************
Silence slowly dims into space,
heaves gently over words and lines
words and whispers whirl with awe
despite hindrance, I strive to spell
the range of emotions whirling—
a restless sea.
Semantics and syntax—alien to my root tongue,
linguistic rules and policies
taught in sterile settings
harvest dust while I strive for the right!
Tune in to your heart—
select the right spectrum
repelling ripples resemble ink fading into water
a wavelength for moonlight threading.
No lexicon conveys the implicit clamor of the vernacular,
woven via deft looks, we have created
our crypto-system, carved on our skin
Inscribed in whispers—
whispered through silence—
hush as heavy as viscous fog.
I pried with a screw-driver driven into a lid
sealed with age, and rust, to crack open a
callous retribution, set aside, tombed over.
I was curious to learn how much remained
and in what condition. Up came the lid with
a gurgle, fizz, hiss, expelled with age smell.
The paint on top, had dried, to a skin, a curd,
a viscous scum of strange foreign color that
did not auger well for its pending redemption.
I poked through the thin skin, scooping it out,
to reveal the paint separated into its primary
colors. Once, thrice stirred, it slowly rejigged
into its original color and form, ready to adorn
marks on the wall, scraped and sanded ready
for a fix, now all's done dusted, and forgiven.
I’ve come to—k(now), the sobering conclusion
that I must be a lunatic; else what
sufficiently explains the smirking smut
clouding my judgment?—what viscous illusion—
outright{(diagnosable[,perhaps)delusion]},—
persuades me to heed your haughty strut?
Each inch of every corner of my gut
is begging—not—accept—refuse—intrusion.
ah!, but I budge, I give in to temptation!
why,why,why must I make the same mistake
instead of just quite well so simply break-
-ing the cycle of you?—o’ that salvation,
in what dark nook lurks it?, which saviour holds
the key that unschackles me from your folds?
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