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Neopoet Weekly 09/29/24 to 10/05/24 Winner!

This Week’s winner is  Twizzle48

 

WHISPERING WOODS

 

WHISPERING WOODS

Perhaps the rustling leaves are telling the tree’s tale
Whispering, such that only those listening may hear
Only when it is in tune, may the message be clear
Yet unless easily understood, it will be of little avail

The breeze is a medium, but other connections too
To share, an underground root network also serves
It’s communication via a kind of complex of nerves
No myths or stories, as all that’s shared will be true

Summer is a competition for sunlight, as if in a duel
In autumn it is time for the farewell to falling leaves
Yet the first snow of winter is as an axe that cleaves
But next spring, it’s the buzz of growth and renewal

The style of the telling is not random, but planned
Facts the trees near and far, eventually get to know
But its sending and receipt is effective, even if slow
Nature’s sagas few of us will ever get to understand

September 2024 Contest Winners!

September 2024 Contest Winners

 

Congratulations to all our contest winners

 

The Winner of the What is Life? Is Alex Tanner

 

Life Is What You Are

 

There's a time to go back to live life again,
Let the boy who was fearless be reborn just the same;
Command the old man who grumbles and moans
Of the aches and the pains that torment his old bones.

Ride his bike one more time, no brakes, hands free,
Skate winter's froze pond where he knows not to be,
Go down to the river for frogs, newts, dragonfly,
Climb gnarled oaks so tall they caress azure sky.

Boot footballs, play rugby in fields full of mud.
Wash knees in ice water to clean off the blood
From kicks and from falls but never no pain
Just laughter as into the fray once again.

No laptops, no mobiles perhaps no tv,
But they were not wanted this boy he was free.
Free from an age of want yet to come
To go where he pleases till hungry then home.

From dawn until dusk he was out all around,
With his numerous pals no trouble was found,
Nor was it sought, just laughter and fun
Or maybe some girls as adolescence begun.

The old man sits straight and a smile lights his face
He'll do what he can and if he seems a disgrace?
A silly old sod who ought to know better,
By God! life's for living, he'll show he's no quitter.

 

The winner of the 09/24 The Bully is Tawny023

 

Encroach and Invade

 

Mold is an inconspicuous bully
Decomposes reds, yellows, oranges
Blues, and even lime greens
Does not matter its outer shape
Covets the wetness deep inside
Feeds and declares dominance
Nest and festers, spreads
Like vermin and vectors
Permeates and inhibits
Its host hold on to structure
While degrading its bonds
In order to have its way with
Just about any old living thing
A temperamental nuisance
But it’s grotesque mold juice
caught the eye of Dr. Fleming
Its usefulness is no other
Than the holy grail
called Penicillin
Which fights viruses that would
Otherwise make human’s
procreation unviable and
Their deaths excruciating

 

The winner of the 09/24 Bon Fire is RoseBlack

 

Bon Fire

 

Moon high; middle of the night.
Drums thumping; bumping in hypnotic flight.
Cloaked hoods fall to the ground,
scattered chants mix with the eerie sound.

Candle wax burns at the fingertips;
Hecate's breath embraces swaying hips.
Shadows dance amongst the flames,
linking spirits to our world without shame.

'Tis our season, witches take hold,
The magic runs hot and bold.
Our veil is thinning, hear the roar of the thunder,
when the living and the dead are no longer asunder.

 

The winner of the 09/24 Under the boardwalk is  Lavender

 

Along The Windy Shore

 

I remember you
and your lit-up smile
under the salty boardwalk.
You were seventeen
with your tousled hair
along the windy shore.

Such a time we had
'neath the summer sun
under the salty boardwalk.
With our hands entwined
we would race the waves
along the windy shore.

We never made promises
we couldn't keep.
No promises were broken.

So in the silver moonlight
there on the beach,
few words were ever spoken.

I remember soon
summer days grew short
under the salty boardwalk.
I was seventeen
when we said goodbye
along the windy shore.

Do you remember me
with my deep brown eyes
under the salty boardwalk?
Part of me remains
racing with the waves
along the windy shore.

I'm there along the shore.

 

The Winner of the 09/24 Homecoming is Tawny023

 

Did you know?

 

Golden Shovel after Victoria Chang’s, ‘Homecoming”

Pieces of us still exist from as far back
As diapers and Similac, even before bedtime stories.
Our DNA hangs around in their
Bloodstream like butterfly wings,
As if the contractions remember
Something of us swimming in nothing,
But a secret tunnel and we were and are
Umbilical cord joined until cut, but the bond is never
Broken— our Mother’s DNA still holds our knowledge

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neopoet Weekly 09/22/24 to 09/28/24 Winner!

   This Week’s winner is Jokerface82

 

THE WRATHFUL SEA

 

Her salted bludgeoning maw
swallowed vessels and galleys
with its green saline gullet of
ulcers
barnacles, and a throat full of oily
spots of acne sticky limpets

Treasures guarded by a circle
of sharks in an ocean restaurant
pinching crabs,
and swaying seaweed keeping naval
secrets.

A wave of wrathfulness, tossing
clubbing, floating ships, drowning
them into the abyss.
stripping seamen Into
skeletons with silent screams.

Supported by a howling killer
of a storm . Ripping, blowing holes
into arthritis wooden decks into oblivion
into the coldest dark depths.

         

 

                                                                     To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Nepoet Weekly 09/15/24 to 09/21/24 Winner!

                                                                                      This Week’s winner is Jokerface82

 

Grandiose Majestic Mountain

There stood a majestic
Craggy face with razor blade
Edges of a monstrous
time honoured mountain

Turning its rocky nose up
at anything below him, robust
Jagged and risky, high stabbing
armour with White shark tip
Cut throated fins.

Bald rugged with a silent manner
cold stone as white as marshmallow
steep and strong, bold and old
broad frosted shoulders

With powdered freckles and a storm grey
complexion it wore a white necklace
and a frosted crown, made
by heaven.

 

                                              To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

You Know I'll Always Love You ~ For Larry

They hated you for your truth,
but you prevailed my dearest
friend.

Though you left too suddenly,
too soon to say goodbye,
and no one could say
"We are sorry for having misjudged
you, but we were blinded by your light."

I know that as long as even one person
stays alive and tastes the oranges growing
from your ashes, that your story will never
die.
Not in the poetry
not in the music,
not in the art
you left
behind, waiting.

Waiting. Wanting to be heard.

The Conclusion

Put me in a wooded box, under an
Ancient tree I will go far on top of a hill
On my grave place some rocks and stones
I do not need a concrete vault nor a polished
Marble head stone or tears to fall close your eyes
And think of me walking beside you
Picking up pennies, rocks and feathers as I go

If at a later date you should visit my grave
Add one more rock to the pile that's been made
A nosegay of wild flowers would be ok but
Give to the living the best bouquets

Blame Who

Blame Who

Long time there has been no storming from you
but such an outcome of growing population
and
damning economy
no one can blame,
you nor me/I
but those who produce a family
when they could afford none.
why should you or I feel blameworthy,
for all those who had
no common sense…

Purge

Reality is rattling;
forcing fondness and frustration
fo meet and mix,
a medley of memories
that doesn’t taste good
coming back up.
Months spent swallowing
prose and poetry
refusing to remember
aching to express
but unwilling
to see sorrow and smiles
cruelly combined.

TEXAS SUNSET

Brilliant,blazing, softly crimson
aglow against the midnight blue horizon

Fingers strong and gentle dipping into the glory
of the melting twilight sun

Slowly streaking the reddish hue
across the complexion of the evening sky

What wonderment to the eye
The Ultimate Artist, proving He still can

F R O T H

jagged curve
rush up and touch
flesh free

the quick and ravaged

thrown down the hall
while the dream tilts
and the picture glass
scrawls a scream

in the quiet the rain fall
is gentle
forest dark as night

this easement
as a replacement
a heart that can never
be held

a pain fresh

a scar sky

night is spilling
from her drains
drawing all away
and I wash
and wash
in the waterfall
in the waterfall
of tears

STORM'S FLOTSAM

Standing at that intersection
cardboard sign displays his plight
haggard face near screams dejection
he has no place to sleep tonight

Time was such a sight was rare
a big city kind of malady
now it seems they're everywhere
how could this have come to be?

Not all these guys can just be lazy
too many good men on the street
whose future prospects look so hazy
no wonder they all seem so beat

My African values

These values I treasure, to you they seem odd or even strange but on them I believe and rely
Without measure,
Dont make a face or look with disdain
when with my fingers demolish mounds of yam
yams pounded smooth by the pestle in a mortar.
You need not sneer cause I prefer
the tough labour of strenuous pounding,
to the quick fix, of an appliance that can cook, bash and mix.
To me the methods differ, so also does the results:
the former makes a better feel on my tongue,
while the latter lumps short and long.

SLEEP, DO NOT COME!!

Can you SEE the demons in my head
Driving me crazy...
Leading me to the very places I dread?

Can you HEAR their whispered threats
Draining me dry...
Dragging me to life's roughest edge?

Can you FEEL their heated breaths
At the back of my neck...
As it laves eerily through my hair?

Can you SMELL their gory, bloody bodies
Doused in darkness...
Hovering over my flower garden like bees?

Can you almost reach out and TOUCH
Their lethal shadows...
As they patrol; doing the night watch?

Love is Ugly

To him, love is ugliness hatched from Aphrodite’s beauty
For charmed by her nymph bliss are the fools
Often found to fall into those drowsy pools,
Enchanted with her fine fantasies
And sleepless elves casting spells of nightmares
As love is a mountaintop of blossoming cherries
Descending into valleys of vines and sour berries

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