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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.

 

GAMBOGE LICHEN WALK

"GAMBOGE LICHEN WALK"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 2nd March 2012.

The wood that walks the path towards the lake has wind-
felled trees, they block the path, we have to make a detour
treading on the top of frosted crystals, a thousand diamonds glow
no more the wooden bridge rocks loudly as we pass, 'tis solid too;

Warfare

Very true
In war
none is ever killed by a bullet
as all fire in the darkness
only shells wound.....
snipers are not worth their salt
if they don't kill
one for one,
may be injure another
with the same single bullet
Ricocheted
I am thus.....
each poem of mine
must touch the heart
in such a manner
that tears must flow
else, my poetry ought to blow

sacred cows and the last monument to God's name

The dead follow you sometimes
where mountains are lost
in a white avalanche of poems;
they wear keys around their necks
and you hear them jingle sometimes
but you think of windcatchers
and catch a waft of dirt from somewhere
deep inside another memory, filling your
nostrils with the scent of olive trees and
strawberry blossoms.

You read poems to old gods and lovers you
barely remember and pigeons follow your
crumbs, warming themselves in your breath.

T i n c t u r e S l e e v e

thin winds
arouse
the bitter itch
douse the clamour
taste the touch

light fall down your
crooked hall

where smiles wither

drape the pooled sighs
with vellum promise
and feel the satin
heat of lonesome thighs

valley burden
rich and haunted
pooled like ready wheat
the swirl of your hair
at daybreak whisper

HUNGRY POLCEMAN

When traffic lights turn green from red
And cars stopped at the front and back
Careful, not to drive your mind out
Unruliness messes it all

When a police officer jumps in
Pretends he is right, accuses you
Falsely of contravening rules
Extortion is behind his moves

You know what he says is not true
But to swindle for his own gain
He must return home with some cash
Or drink away from his exploits

AGUA

AGUA

você é agua
caindo por entre
os dedos.
rio fugindo
não sabendo
onde se parar

WATER

You are water
Falling
Between my fingers
A river fleeing
Not knowing
Where
To stop

urbane

into the thaw of a dying winter
I have come to find you
beneath discarded shoes of bridges
where red rust is the graffiti of the sky
written in the blood of the rain

you are born there looking up
unspoken black in the hollow of the pipes
the channeled water in the hearts infrastructure
where bones find innocent children
to ask about the gravity of birds

Insignificant Bit

She chose me first
then let me go
as quickly as she came.

I took her sadness,
gave her joy
and was left
with worthless shards.

Her bitterness
had made her cold
and she kept
her heart's lock shut.

I tried to break
the iron lock
but was burned
by her untrusting glare.

Today, I breathe
without her aid,
I sleep sans
thoughts of her,

but she still lingers,
deep within dark
caverns of my mind.

Comments Poemised..... now A MUST read

For sure, I’m a creative egoistic poet

I have composed over 8000 poems, yes, 8000... during the past two plus years... as I was confined in the snows, not to be forgotten... As you know no two poems of mine... fall in a slab...albeit they might seemingly give off similar perfume .If a poet is understood, then one is no poet at all.
For creativity is not at its verges end
It’s not a cliff
but an echo on a cliff
which sounds
resounds
and
rebounds
but never fades into the realms
of frameless eternity...

They Don't Know, They Shouldn't

as stars burn out when night is day
her heart takes fleeting beat
i walk with glass embedded heels
and blame my careless feet

the girl walks 'round with green and red
she'll have her choice in men
and yet she yearns for more and more
her fingers greed 'til then

she said one day might hold for us
a love of different kinds
i wonder if she too is plagued
in her heart and her mind

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