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Neopoet Weekly 06/09/24 to 06/15/24 Winner!

 

This week’s winner is Lavender with the following poem

 

Winning Poem

Magic

Submitted by Lavender

A falling star settled on my rose,
a diamond dipped in velvet clothes.
I dared not touch the pure gift
sent from heaven, so swift,
but let it rest there
in such sweet air
and comply
to my
wish.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Summer Image Prompt Contest Vote

Please read the following poems

And vote below.

Voting ends June 19th 2024

 

 

 

Abandoned

By:  Mary Beth Magee

 

She bobbed there in the gentle swell,
The little boat I knew so well.
The sail wrapped tight along the boom
Gave me a feeling of dark doom.
I saw no anchor chain hung down
To stop her, lest she run aground.
No one sat in her empty bow.
No hand controlled her keel just now.
A gentle breeze set her to rock.
How did she get loose from the dock?
As the breeze caused her to turn,
I spotted paint along her stern.
Rough letters where my name had been -
The words now looked like "Mortal Sin."
What had he done in dark of night?
Was he convicted by dawn's light?
Then in the reeds beside the dock…
What I saw gave me quite a shock.
A body, face down, on the lake,
Could it be him, for heaven's sake?
Please, no, I prayed and backed away.
What pushed him so, I cannot say.
I didn't dream that he would dare.
I only know I lost him there.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Summer Image Prompt Challenge-Sailing

By: Hon

 

In the sailing wind blow
pacing along with the flow
feeling at ease and contented
under the vast blue sky
the spray of the fresh air
embarking on a new journey
traveling miles far apart
carrying with a curious mind
awaiting for a new opportunity
embracing with a sense of hope
bringing with an emotional ride
through many different stages
at the endless spending time
finding own destination
with each tale of the story
comes with lessons
instilled with the thought
life is a learning experience
that takes where it goes
a place that holds special
to the heart that embraces
like home

 

 

 

 

Vote Here

 

Thank you for your Participation!

 

Neopoet Weelky 06/02/24 to 06/08/24 Winner!

 

This week’s contest winner is hippiemoon with following poem:

Archeology

By: hippiemoon

Years from now,
We will be dead and buried.
Your laugh nothing more than
A whisper in the wind,
A breeze carrying off dandelion wishes.

Our headstones will rest together,
Aging together, as we did in life.
Tears from our loved ones will mix with rain
And our memory will fade with the engravings.

And years from now,
We’re forgotten by everyone but the Earth.
They will dig our bodies up
And find our bones entwined in each other’s arms.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Congratulations to Shelby Pryor for winning this week’s contest

 

Something New

Rain rushes from the skies
Mixing with a single tear
The wind cuts through
Like every doubt, every fear

Lightning shatters my peace
Like the pieces of my mind
A distant thunderclap mocks
Of the girl I was and left behind

A tornado rages in my head
Demolishing my peace and joy
I plaster on a smile for you,
But it's just a tactic I employ

The fear paralyzes my heart
Yet I'm so tired of being afraid
It is time to get up and fight
Before my resolve starts to fade

My fingers curl around my sword
I lift it high, I've got my armor on
I bring it down with all my strength
Until the shattered pieces are gone

There is no fixing the girl I was
No use in buying time with glue
The only solution is to shatter her
And forge with fire Something New

 

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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

The Last Time

Had he known the last time they made love,
Would be the last time they’d make love.

He would have stayed a little longer,
Held on to her a little stronger.

He would have gazed into her eyes,
As they said their last goodbyes.

He would have sat beside her bed,
Till there was nothing left unsaid.

He would have rubbed the back of her neck,
And given her cheek a little peck.

He would have sat her in a chair,
And took some time to brush her hair.

Memorial Day

Flags gently waving,
Honoring those who gave all,
Memorial Day.

What Is It?

What is it?
When your heart skips a beat,
What is it?
Is it someone that you meet?
What is it?
With a flutter in your heart,
What is it?
That you never want to part?
What is it?
From the time you say "Hello."
What is it?
You know! That you'll never let go!

Locked in the basement

Dark and isolated stay
like living in hell
where the secret is kept
with the whispering talk
at a deadly ghost place
with silent hearing echoes
facing with the relentless fear
as the heart pounding rapidly
by a terrifying despair
an eerie cold shivering in a chill
sending down to the spine
from the haunted spirit appearance
screaming out loud carelessly
“Get out of my place” or You will be dead!”
horror racing through the mind
with tears of frightening sigh
to look for a way to escape

At The Theatre

When I saw you across the aisle, I held the arrow that Eros had just flung in me.
Your radiant smile, your luminous skin, your sable hair…
Then you looked at me… and I thought I knew.
When we locked eyes at the theatre for the very first time;
Through the crowds, through the clamor, amongst a thousand people or more,
It seemed to me that only you were there in silence… and I thought I knew.
With fumbling feet like a loon I made my way to you, through the throng -
Stumbling, tripping, and with no regard to grace or composure… but soon to you.

Rewrite - "Shapes"...

Shapes...

Punching away shadows, dark, floppy shapes.
Back where they came from, the dirty street.
Lights smothering the black, inky abyss, the pockets.

Above the silken, ebon blanket,
a silver, sinister grin from the ghostly moon,
changing shape, from horns to mirrored glow.

The old fart (alter cocker) shuffle

as one fairly long run on sentence
unwittingly made locally famous
courtesy residents here at
Highland Manor Apartments
as first one foot and then the other
painstakingly, and agonizingly dragged
across the cement walkway
making absolutely sure
the entire foot touches the ground,
(analogous to geriatric

Bar room fight!

I had a friend, Neanderthal
he stood about six foot high
I met him at the do-drop inn
on a sultry Saturday night
his mind was sharp, his hands were fast
intelligence in his eyes
his art was hapkido
a black belt by his side
the evening hot and sultry
his bullet-bike just outside
a cowboy to be reckoned with
stepped up with him to vie
the night was hot, the din increased
within the little dive
when in a flash he grabbed my friend
a full nelson he applied
against the bar room wall

Ode to a service hero-

He reigns the world of supreme
that rule the heart of a fragile place
like a guardian angel that protects
one from harm
To bring abundant joy to the
fill the sadness
guiding through with wisdom
of virtue and integrity advice
with an unselfish display
brighten up the spirit of light
his embrace brings comfort
of a musical symphony play
sharing with kind words
fostering with tender care
to paint smile on the face
healing the anguish of pain
He leads with ambition

Glory Days

It rises 140 feet above ground,
jutting upward like an awkward mushroom
painted white, its tank boasting our little
town's proud name - Greenfield.

And there really are green fields here, too.
Corn and soybeans, mostly,
rotated to help preserve the soil.

Corn depletes, soybeans replenish.

The water tower stands high on its hill
like a watchman, guarding the crops, buildings, and houses,
policing the streets leading in and out of town.

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