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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.

 

From the original:

Anni, (Cloudthings) new Prose entry:

When I sit on a verandah in the autumn afternoon, watching the leaves glow chrimson or saffron bright in the late, rich sunlight, I wonder what it is that makes our hearts echo that glow so deeply?

Sitting in my back room, writing letters to a friend, long absent, playing “artist in residence” in Korea, I gaze out my big window to get lost in the swaying, shifting mass of gum leaves against the sky. Again, mesmerized and somehow fulfilled and inspired by the interplay of tree and weather.

"Daddy's Girl"

Her innosence gone, prematurely
she's like a full-grown, glistening pearl;
a flawless unit of nature
not to mention, "daddy's girl";

imprisoned, and surrounded by
the thought that it "feels", wrong;
told, "not to yell", and "not to cry"....
because he wants her to be...strong.

An extremely trusting child
childishly placing trust;
on her shoulders, guilt is piled
as she hits the streets, or bust.

The Intended

Shadow fever elevates
From a whisper through the veil

Awoken from the lost
Contamination alludes to past,
Reclaiming softly
Skin unholy borne.

Foretold eyes
Witness deprivation.

Doused in spell-gaze
Hue extracts life
Leaving only an outline
Of a form unknown.

Voice of agreement
Renders no vow.

Weak stature
Desperately craves consciousness,
Unavailable, reclamation is lost
Leaving only resonance of silence.

Alone
Exposed
Frailty heightens

ABANDONED

They've taken up the railroad track
that joined together all these places
and they'll likely never be laid back.
All that's left are gravelly traces.

Iva, Starr and Lowndesville too,
small southern towns along the line,
(and many more I never knew)
left to wither with no vine.

Mere remnants of those byegone days
when textile mills were going strong
where looms echoed through the summer haze
a background beat to dryflies' song.

THE MIGHTY MOUNTAIN

1 grain of sand,
It's all your given.
Told to do something marvelous with it,
Something magnificent.

It lays there,
In a sand mound.
It's bigger,
It stands out from all the rest.

Bending over you pick it up,
Roll it around in your fingers.
Your cold skin,
over sun heated grain.

The grain,
Is it a sign?
Well,
It's more gold than the rest!

It's so beautiful,
As the winds blow in the ocean.
Sail boats whipping about,
The breeders of this nation.

Alzheimer's

Will you remember me tomorrow,
as you remembered me today?
Or will I become a stranger to you,
someone you will hold at bay.
How long will the memories last,
before they get lost within past's folds?
Will I need to remind you of stories of when?
Or will you hear them as though the first time told?
Will you remember the name you had given to me?
Or begin to see me as another's child?
Do you even recall the days of your youth?
When your vitality for life was running wild.

S L A N E

ere the shadow dwelt
comatose and broadly
long
as the shade thats fallen
on this lawn
like the breath of stillness
in a calm

a dream punctured
shock
torrid rapid
jagged rocks

she puts the key
upon the tongue
for his escape
the lock

and they live
twi t here and
now
midstrike
betweeen
the clock
call

between heaven
and hell

Drifting

Laying soundly down to rest
Drowning from my wishes
I reach over to turn out the light
And rest my wearied mind

My mind begins to flicker out
And welcome me to slumber
My heavy eyelids giving out
And falling from my dreams

I dream of flying with the owls
Against the starlit sky
And swimming with the dolphin
In the shadow of a sea

Flying and swimming to and fro
Searching it almost seems
For the other side of me
Because my souls undone

BREASTS

A breast, the breast, two breasts abreast
what galleons, figure heads, project their bloom,
their blown out pomp, balloon,
swollen slowly through the child its birth,
suckled, swallowing the milk of mother's holy rooms,
their own develop,
laced with fantasies not yet understood
but if they could, what then.

Between Dimensions

While I slip here between dimensions
you hold my hand, confusions reign
As one world, then another hastens
you keep me 'safe', on firm terrain

I see the dead walk with the living
while I slip here between dimensions
A frightening thing this part of aging
where crimson reason softens, weakens

and intuition deepens, sharpens
brightening knowledge long forgot
While I slip here between dimensions
just who are you to say I'm not?

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