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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.

 

Future Days

Future Days

fragments of
dissipating clouds
a backdrop
for the fading sun
framing memories
of my hunter days
when I was constantly
on the expansive run
now my path has narrowed
and my step has slowed
I recline on frayed pillows
closing my weary eyes
I remember younger days
When I had my choice
of all the young men
in my pavilion
I was mistress
of all I surveyed
then my eyes fell upon you
and never strayed

Peter Pan Nightmares on Chatham Avenue

out of sync the wheel
squeaks, too many little
brown mice with big mice ears

have chewed my bearings
a sunbeam sits on my
dislocated shoulder

and the cat's in the cradle
sleeping with the whole ball of wax
(what a yarn that is!)

i sharpen my nails and
dig in the posthumous dirt
of my arrival, coming

undone by the light of the silvery
moon, sprinkles melting on cupcakes
and newlyweds

A moment in the many

The days pass like mist now,
Swept gone before the sun,
Left fading as it blows to night,
Left fading as it takes a bow;

For I’ve spent too much time here,
Casting pebbles at the sea,
While I’ve known what I dreamt of,
While I’ve known what I fear;

But the silence does haunt me,
The sky shimmering to grey,
Half hoping for the coldness,
Half hoping just to be;

THE DOOR OF MY NIGHTMARE!

Not a whisper can be heard
from my constricted throat
by the image
I behold with my eyes

Oh freedom, save me
from this creature
who's stepped out
of my horror filled nightmare's

Praying for escape
While held in the grip
of a living hell hound
born of fire and hate

Is there a God?
I hear no answer
from above
is my pleading, lost

I am a non believer
now caught in heated fear,
I seek
of him that does not exist

“Drugs”

Drugs can aid the ailing
And injure the consumer
Lacking in judgment

It hurts those using to amusing
Making folks yearning for highs
Remains unhealthy and unwise

Those entertaining
In place of sickness and ailments
Yield to deflate influences
Turns souls to evil

Destroying lives and minds

Various ones damaged by deceit
Others remain in Sheol
Waiting for renewed
Opportunities in life

May the spirit go back to God
The amusing drugs can overcome

Cursed Vein

Morning crawls
the worm of light
with mucus mists
seeping

Dark drama filled
valleys
and predator dreams
slink
pushpointalism
breath stinging
on flowers awaiting
the warmth
the touch
of majesty sun

take me back cracked
wall and mildewed
tub My room where I wallow
where tommorrow shall
come

Skirt so yellow and bright

Skirt so yellow and bright
Eyes blue and wide,
with lips pursed right.
“Where is your joy,” she sighed?

Cotton showing years of wear
still flows yellow, and bright.
Her lean body craves to share
him hard and yielding tonight.

After she threw the bridal wreath
their joy spilled like carpenter’s glue.
No longer did they sample from beneath
yellow skirt and sweater taut and blue.

HEARTH'S CALL

When I chance to go afield
to harvest the wild places' yield
of the myriad sights and sounds
which in this sylvan spot abounds

Matters not how far I stray
once it comes the end of day
like an old trained milking cow
I know where I must head to now

To the warm hearth of my home
at the finish of the long day's roam
and the ever young girl I call wife
with whom I've shared most of my life

At What Price Money?

Half the world is starving
and look at Suri Cruise -
a four million dollar wardrobe,
and a hundred pairs of shoes.
At nearly five she has everything
and throws a tantrum if refused,
Tom and Katie you’re too foolish.
You should be ashamed of yourselves.

already this

my logic in a tartan knapsack of my
scientific mind,
i searched until i found who
was who, looking for the
essence that is me
behind the pontifications of the
ego that would be mine

i traveled every well-known path
worn and frayed around the edges
until i was smooth as a
stone in the river of my being,
i trudged the meanings of what it means
to be until
immersed with every shade of green
in the constancy of my open heart
echoing pineapple winds of change

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