Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Home

Community News

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.

 

But I wanted fire in my eyes

i.

Your lips wound me
with the beauty of your poems,
parchment-thin my heart
must always listen,
I do not know what comes over me,
even now
is it my shallow art?

The moon rising near the end of August banishes me
to the hinterland,
sea to sand,
we were destined to meet.

"There are better uses of time.", I protested
you said nothing
and left me
with
a killing frost.

ii.

STOLEN GLANCES

Bar me not from gazing on
the form which sets my blood on fire
and has done so for many a year.
Don't reward my gaze with flippant ire
in attempt to quash growing desire.

That mirror you depend on so
only shows a flawed reflection.
It never shows what I behold
when I chance to look in your direction,
stealing a glance of near perfection.

Stuck

One time
I tried to use krazy glue while assembling a model,
and it got lodged in between
my left thumb, and forefinger.

Another time,
some anonymous smart-ass said somehing to me,
and I couldn't for the life of me
think of anything at all, to come back with;

then, there were other times,
where I was but, ignored
and life just went on, and on without me
because, I was put on pepetual pause.

GARRI AND THE MAGIC CUP

Run to the market
Buy some garri home
Here is the money
Take a sack along
The pot has some soup
Waiting for the garri
Three and twenty cups
For sweet smelling soup
Run to the market
Bring some garri home
Six cups of garri
Was all he could bring
What about the rest
Seventeen cups short

‘Where u bai de garri’?

Nocturnica

The moon rises in the twilight.
A pale orb in the dark.
Illuminating all in its phantom light.

Silken cream beams,
Mutilate the black velvet veil.
A terrible shriek of wind pierces the night,
A shrill and mournful sigh.

The moonlight leaches the trees of their color.
The wind strips the branches of their leaves.
Pale, skelletal cut-outs of wood contrast sharply with the onyx sky.
Like ink on parchment.

Last You Knew

Last you knew I was a wreck, alone again
Lost my heart in a fire that grew from sin
Held her hands to my face, she pulled away
Captured my soul with nothing to say

Last you knew I was in love, alone again
Left my hands in the fire of love and then
Pulled away from the ones who cared for me
Sheltered my heart in selfish ways, you see?

And then I knew, I was lost in the sea
Caught in the waves of love and jealousy
Pulled by the currents that lead you to me
Drowned in the dark, in misery

Experimental Poem

There is a rage that dwells within me, white hot and flowing vibrant, living crimson through my burning veins.
I want to tear, to scream, to shout.
I want to get all of this anger--OUT! OUT! OUT!
--No, no, fury has no place within this broken body.
Sadness wells within me, swirling uncontrollably, whirling me down into its soft blue grip.
Gently, gently it overflows and tears begin to spill--down, down, down.
Tumbling over my skin, sliding across my lips.
No, no! Sadness does not belong near me.

Irene (ver 2.0)

Oh! Goddess of Peace
have mercy on the mortals
do save our souls

Irene (ver 1.0)

(Please read "last few words")

why are you so enraged
leaving all in your trail
frail, fragile, screwed?

are you a nymph
aroused by titillation
of amorous waves?

Bah! you symbolize
feminine beauty and beast
in such stark contrast

once you sate your lust
you will breeze upon the ramp
like a beauty queen

Religulous in the Barnyard

"Religiosity" meowed the cat
rather languidly as cats
usually do
"is for the birds",
just then a cock crowed
with cock-lust after the plump chickens
in the hen house,
but the door was locked by the evil wolf
wearing his usual sheep's clothing,
casing the barnyard
ready to snatch anything that
clucked long enough to suit his fancy,
and the swans swimming in their pond,
stretched their necks to see what was
going on....

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.