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April 2024 Contest Winners

Congratulations to our April 2024 contest winners!

Spring Fling  was won by Carrie with the poem Spring Fling

04/24 I Was An April Fool was won by Geezer with the poem Fooled Again...

04/24 Waiting In Line was won by  Mary Beth Magee  with the poem The Last Time

04/24 Are We There Yet?  Was won by Rula with the poem We're Almost There For It

04/24 My Favorite Cookie was won by Leslie with the poem After school treat!

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Vote for this month’s image prompt contest winner

Voting ends May 6th 2024.

Vote at the end of this newsletter.

 

Backwards

By: Carrie

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

G
I wanna fly a kite
A
At night instead of day,
C
I wanna drive a big old truck
D
The opposite way
G
I wanna laugh when I’m sad,
C
And cry when I’m happy and gay
D A
I wanna do what no one’s done
G
Any other day.

G
I wanna wear all my clothes
A
Wear em all inside out,

C
I wanna be real quiet,
D
When everybody else wants to shout
G
I wanna see the stars
C
When everybody else sees the sun
D
I want my day to end
C G
When everybody else’s has begun.

C D
Wouldn’t it be weird, wouldn’t it be funny and strange
A
If everyone thought like this,
G
Slightly deranged.

 

 

Lost Love

By: Alex Tanner

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

For fleeting months we tarried,
Each time we met we knew
This may be the last time
For lovers hours are few.

If I love ten thousand women
Tis you I will recall;
You gave yourself so willing,
For your passion I did fall.

On black nights as the wind howls,
As I lie in a bed so cold,
Your soft voice echoes 'cross the years
To warm my lonely soul.

                                                                                                                                         

Vote Here

Thank you for your participation.

This week the Neopoem is

 

 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on his first contest win as a neopoet member.

The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

Holiday Message...

Resurrected again, from the nameless pit of Hell
A Killer reborn, new tales to tell
He's not gone away, just been lying low,
There's a feast coming, feel the Holiday glow!

Thanksgiving and Christmas, are almost here
There's recipes to polish, to bring Holiday cheer
His culinary skills need sharpening now,
and he's serving long-pig, not turkey or cow

Histornity's Song

Heightened imaginations
stemmed from not owning a lot of things;

faith in God, and family
in a land where all were kings;

receiving all the blessings each life brings.

Each agenda far from hidden
we were the flock, and God the "word";

at a time of innovation
from pure genius to the absurd;

with the best soundtrack music ever heard.

Our skies, truly the limit
and our faith knew no bounds;

under the band named, Noland
we explored through music, and sounds;

P u r s u i t

calamities sweet muse
lies watching
her river calm
the ocean thoughts
sounding beneath
flame patterns
star volitions on the wavelength
echoes

there is movement beneath
the surface
there are histories pausing
on each stretch of beachead
claimed

each night
remaining
and awakening
dreamers

when the nights are long

You write me into your poem
and take me into your arms,
a promise not really remembered
but not ever forgotten,
there is laughter in the sunrise,
sometimes life is a waking dream
come true
when there is love without shadow.

Your eyes are diamonds of light. Your eyes
are beds of hot coal that sear through me,
igniting me.
Opening me.
Opening me to that other world we never
leave behind.

Relatives

We all really are....
Poetically musical

Though I'm prosaically cynical
Though we are not related
Yet all in life is relative

The moon and sun only
Are naturally
Creative

As human race
From the earth is
Absolutely abhortive

Fruit bowl

Fruit bowl…

Ornate these oranges placed beside
apples and grapes, on a well
polished table while people die,
from need.

But fret not, the polish has
dust rings around a rose bowl
that it may hunt and clear,
with speed.

Tidy or untidy houses with
sloping roofs, that all matter
slides free, elucidates our
clean slate.

A ramshackle tented village
has flat roofs, to catch
whatever comes there,
still they wait.

Tulips in November

In November I dream of tulips
while your hands open me like a psalm,
you sing me into poems and alabaster sand,
you feed my marrow with harmony,
with you I know how the sky fills the earth
with spaces between
the two of us.

I bought twenty tulips at the Westside Market, ten paper-white ones,
ten blush pink. We bring each other to perfection. We take all we are
with us to that quaking threshold.

without you (poem by Barry)

how clearly I saw myself
when you brushed a rebellion of hair
to the ranks of God
quaking the mountain on which my
heart lay
in that stranger cold
without you

dying Asters (Barry's poem)

Hi,
I'm Joe
this guy you don't know
bent back and looking
far below

beneath the bridges built
in stone, in evening shadows
the cold dying asters
are in colors that hold their tongues
till morning

F i v e

my palm
and pressed within
the secrets
that cut and burn
that run cold like an ache

beneath this starry flame
i make no claims

but you
you know my walk
my lean
and press your hip
along the edge
where we watch
for our ghosts

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