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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.

 

The Blinder Side of Fate

I've made my choice
as to where I stand,
I've greatly considered the source;

I sure hope things
turn out...as planned;
we must stay true, the course.

I have completed
each, and every detail,
things should go - without a "hitch";

we all must "focus"
and not, derail;
good intentions, could land us in a ditch!

We co-operated
quite stellerrlally,
to get everything under, way;

paper thin lions

The end of summer rain
rains
my five a.m. French Roast
warmly swallowed tufts of earth
what is there to say dear Poem
that has not yet begun to course
the rivulets of my being?
to what avail is your precise incision
of words--
these small abstractions and this remnant
paradox, this hoax
perpetuated? Where are your conclusions
hiding?

Acrid Mist writing with emotion workshop

You have what I want
Tiny bites nip at my
Self control.

I need what you have
An ache cramps
My back.

Give it to me
Got have it,
It’s not yours.

Mamool Cookies

She enveloped the stage with easy grace,
a master of images and annotations of significance

The moon was full with redemption and poked her head
through narrow streets, through the wealth of boulevards;
if love can bear it all, the tip of a poet's tongue
is always touching the immensity of her heart
beating with blind eyes and deaf ears,

Fumes- writing with emotion workshop

I examine the toxic alcohol tainted fumes,
looking for an answer, searching for loves lost,
and opportunities tangled in the distant past.
Reaching for a future.

I recall the pub crawls and the booze soaked brawls
and in return receive a fist filled with splintered dreams
the boy i once was, three sheets to the wind ,
and drowning in my grief, hoping for a tomorrow.

FALSE ACCUSATION

Whilst weekend purse went lean
Except for five Naira tucked away
For a time like this, in a book
I couldn’t find the money
I left my doors always open
That is just who I am
Frustrated in my search
I leveled accusation
On the little boy next door
Assertive quiz, convinced
Ingenuousness stood tall
I was the one who lost money
Three months have passed
Strain continued to dig the divide

LAST GOODBYE

All somber, those who stand around
this wound cut deep into the ground
beside a box so square and stout
as if they fear you might get out
but from the casket there's no sound

The preacher murmurs on unheard
my attention's fixed upon a bird
a hawk soaring nearly out of sight
within a sky so clear and bright
as if nothing special had occurred

Nomad

In your hands, a potter's wheel,
shaping substance into form
the physics of involution:
broken shards along a
caravan longing a
sweet alchemy, precise
fingers on snow

In the desert bloom.
I weep your nearness.

You have made a fine vessel.

Fill me with sunrise.

Shrink

Power surging twisting and dipping
Poleaxing and reviving me
Currents travelling to the brain
Joy a sense of well being
Pleasure untamed 
Limbs and body thrashing out of control
Lurching undulating driving me insane
Shocks of pure terror 
A loneliness remains
Draining my will
Going for the kill
Driving home the thin sharp blade
Lacerating my soul
All Is calm filled with mind numbing boredom 
Unrelenting strain

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