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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

 

Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest Winner!

 

The Winner of the Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest is  scribbler

 

AUTUMN'S CUSP

 

 

Mid October a cool day
with a northern cooling breeze.
All hints of summer gone away.
The few green leaves are just a tease.

Tomorrow will bring the first frost
so this day finds me 'neath the trees
absorbing warmth before its lost
and limbering up titanium knees.

For I'm not what I once was.
Time has seen that I am not,
So I sit on a stump to take a pause
and breathe autumn's scent which I'd forgot.

Then turn my face up to the sky
as cool front winds begin to blow.
I watch the clouds as they race by.
They leave like friends I used to know.

My eyes water from sun's glare
so I drop my head down to my chest
letting my chin settle there
while I count the ways that I am blessed.

I'm blessed with our cabin in the trees
I'm blessed with seeing one more fall.
I'm blessed with grandchildren to tease.
I'm blessed with being here at all.

I watch a squirrel climb to its nest
for now the sun is getting low
so ere' it reaches ridge's crest
I arise then turn and go.

 

                         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 Actor

Trapped by his passion
Lost in his art
Stealing other`s lines
To mark his own
At war with his world
Guevera`s child in search of
The dust mote that
Defines his essence
Always out of reach
Dancing on the sunlight
Knifing through
A fly specked window
Alone with the breath of
future thoughts

Obsessive Hands

abreast of nightshade tipping the moon
hands of iron cupped my desire coaxing me,
into the shadow-lands of my obsession

the shades moved
as your fingers found their mirror,
and iridescent trails of dark-light
kaleidoscope across my skin

I have visions of your hands
and their movements,
I feel a rush of want
to pull in their need

obsessed
I watch each wave
within every gesture

Beyond

My great friend rested in the forest
Wrapping himself in the beauty with dreams
Enjoying the trees,
The light played hide comes seek
Leaves sailing as ocean ships in a breeze
This was his world as he thought of it
Always there to enhance his being
Part of the earth he loved so much.

American Fault Line....

American Fault Line......

o! sailor dear

when you talk of her

also say solo
my mind rushes
flushes and blushes
as a sailor why!
you ought to know

but that your lover be a boat,
I needn’t quote
twas a surprise
for anyone to read
poetry
as lovely…

O what a coincidence
my mind resembled some ones
but hello sailor
I like to read real poetry
of a sailor at sea

as one rests the night
in a country …..
as foreign as distant from home,
it can be

B l i g h t ment

there is blindness run
like a stain
spreading specimen
illuminations

the soft decay
of our mortal meeting
closed off like the empty
Halls

rain filled and dust kept
annointed with ghosts
and winds

The fire consumed us
like a hungry
burning like brands
striving heavenward

broken halos

caustic tridents touch
in May ritual

I wake
while snow
crawls towards
the alley
past the bent
lamps

fraudlent and free
we wear our scars

There Is No Place For Feeling In Modern Poetry

Hot face
meet cold desk.
Voices carry but not much sinks in,
because of course
you think
no, you KNOW
you could do better.
Fight the urge to speak out of turn
the monster clawing at your ears
clawing at your insides
tearing at your chest.
Spring is coming from everywhere,
possibly
Spreading, contagious.
Everything is moving
and I am not the biggest leaf in the woods
but my roots are coming up
and I am falling down
but at least I can interpret art in more ways than one.

Odyssey

move me past
these words
stroke my face
as you transport me
on the tip of your
tongue, directed,
everywhere

there is nothing
but the fall
to your arms,
no softer
arc to land,
or port for
this storm

without you
I am mindless,
restless flesh,
twitching
an immitation
at life,
in the longing
of this separation

Snow

Snow came last night to rest on her way to colder places.
I woke to her, smiling.
An old lover.
We spent the day in wondering silence.
Two old friends in two old chairs.
Hands touching.
I recalled my tears at her painful diamond brilliance.
How she salted my coal black hair during our lovers walks.
She sighs.
Caresses my face.
The tears return.
My hair is gone but her brilliance remains.
Gently, she kisses my cheek.
With a careless wave and a backward glance
She leaves with a promise of return

conflict

at night when the still is visible
and i bank fluorescent tears,
my heart i bathe in blissless grace,
while i page the angry years

at night when the blanket covers
the indifference of the day,
we muse and we ponder
over our merry world and Frey

at night a dream in wander
find me in feeble sleep
and in a frantic moment
my psyche mount to steep

at night i hide my spirit
to disguise a conflict'd mind
and mull over Jove
and all the negations that bind

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