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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.

 

analogy

when you stare at a dim star
it vanishes
then you see it
when you look away

it was an analogy waiting to happen
i left it too long

autumn or sunlight or
long shadows, does that help?
how about hawks, do you know now?

what i want to tell you
can only be said by
avoiding the subject

Smokeless...

With clogged lungs, I awake
I cough up all this phlegm
Even though my airways are baked
I torture them again

I've tried to quit, but it seems
That my willpower is just moot
More smoke filled with tar and nicotine
I can't give these cigs the boot

I can't play, and I can't run
and no matter what the task
My body says, "Hey I'm done"
"Where's the oxygen-mask?"

Ten bob hooker...

Ten bob hooker,

Street corners she uses
for easy cash,
hotel rooms are costly
always brash.
Scuffed boots she’s now
worn a while,
denim skirt short, frayed,
out of style.

Friendly pink or lace
that’s all gone,
had to grow up early
to face a horrid dawn.
Father was a good man
maybe to damn kind,
mother was weak
and always love blind.

SHADOW

forgot about you old freind
the sunshine streaming bright as then
the lithe and limber youthful you
now tall and limping thoughtful view

we celebrate our birthday way
the sunny sun another day
out mute raindays and puddle view
the sorrows joys and things we do

SEASONS:1 and 2 [second poem added July 12]

SEASONS I

The branches on the old birch trees
Began to feel the weight of ice and snow
First a brief crackling to show their resistance
The weaker ones fell in the hush of the ground below
All that was green and alive died to winter
Lingering ghosts frozen still
until the first breath of Spring
There is no resurrection without a death
No continuation without a Spring
Each of us dies to our season
And we let go of one dreaming
To wake and dream another

Submitted by Geremia on Mon, 2011-07-11 02:49

perception

there's a bird on the wire
eyeing his world from my vantage point
worlds collide

we see each other through the window of
perception
and reality takes a bow

there is grace in this moment
I pedal uphill and down hill with ecstasy,
crossing thresholds with robin's wings

there is a blade of grass that sings.

I listen to my listening.

PROCRASTINATION

Worthless Lethargy
Zilch to nothingness
We hang fire
Put off the flame
Dally handed on as delay

This block to progress
Keeping me deferring
Till the morrow
Evening exploits of today

When we holdup
Or drag our feet
Then postpone
Our good intentions
The world suffers

I need determination
For nothing is so hard
Lest my aspiration
Be for naught

Beach Sand and Weak Legs

I took my first vacation to the beach with the family after me and my hubby separated in 2009. He thought it a great idea to take us on vacation after years of pleading to do something as a family. So he arranges the finances so it would be possible to go and have a really good time taking in the sights during the day and walking the beach in the afternoon.

Forgetting Mystery

They are painting buildings,
constructing new roads,
expanding old ones
which once lead home.

Ancient trees
are being brutally slaughtered,
without second thoughts
to what they've endured.

The couple down the road,
been married for forty years
just called it quits
because they discovered the internet.

Individuality is being mass produced,
while the cotton fields are burning
and the wildlife is losing ground.
I woke up lost in familiarity.

Krystal

walking barefoot
the blue glint
shinning of her
sunwashed eyes

the shadow of the crow
slipping brief across
her brow her perfect
cheekbones

summerbrown
alone in her vermillion
sunset thoughts

a single sandwich
wrapped in wax paper
slung from her fist
in a clear Wonderbread
bag

in the dark windbreak
a single cricket sang

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