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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.

 

Underwood

bygone echoes
keys moving rhythmically
saturating kitchen walls

odd globe secreting a stingy glow
while black ribbon smears worn ideas

your locution impeccable
assuaging a thirst conceived by barren heritage

each numinous page
moulded my threadbare soliloquy

now across a pale light screen
orations still exchange

though each birth now sterile
soundless

it still grafts new shoots
but weaker
than the underwood

hello me now adays no one reads poetry?

half our lives we waste
looking what to do
what to eat
and ask others too…

whereas we must realize
we all are individual entities,
what suits us best
we ought to eat,
what suits us most
we ought to wear,
what we must love to say
we ought to speak...
what we must listen
is all that pleases me

think not that the other one is wiser
it may suit him or her
what you are only you know
don’t depending on others
nor your ignorance show,

FLUSH OF COLOUR

Great bloom of love,
like the flush of colour
that blushes mountains in the evening light,
its sudden burst of realisation
entertained in silken robes of red and pink,
as the sun sinks ever deeper into the horizon's brink,
eclipses the senses,
darkens the must of scented breath,
all panting like the fangs of fox and badger,
tongues hanging out, night 's animals
that burrow far beneath the ground, in mounds
that, Venus-like, resound with pants and gasps,
as flowers push up through the loam to light,

Thoughts On A Cold And Sullen Eve

Let us raise a little glass
and blow on little trumpets.
Let us toast, dear friend of mine
while the minutes march ahead.

Time is swift and time is soothing,
but memory disturbs the dream of living.
Dark the shadows, long the raincoats,
the pitter-patter of the raindrops
oft reminds and often hinders
one from going about their daily duties.

Still let us raise a little glass
and blow on little trumpets.
Fairies make me glad by day
and singing elves by night.

K onstant

bear me oh wind
your fissured realm
show shivers in the dream mirrors

and your cauldron of tears
the river lanes of rains call
and I feel them fall

dancing in the dark
and leeching through
the cracks and dust
sweet errant memory
swept free
the sheltered craft
for a journey to take

awake thee spirit
and flesh
for I have slept
while the towers leaned
pressed with the pursuant
winds

the streamer quest

Absolution

young chemical voodoo eyes
sedated from fates
torn from swollen infected wombs

quixotic wards of indifference

nettle the Mercedes peace

gaunt parody’s of scholastic dreams
huddle together in their purgative sanctum

a scourge upon the chaste

untouchables

puberties barely blossomed
guidance shrewdly abandoned

derision their loft
from which they may exonerate the
ignorant

bestowing
their unbathed sweat

Baptizing the odium

Grace at time of leaving

For all the wondrous peals of shared, sad, laughter
At the frivolities and serendipities of life.

For all the care and listening given non quid pro quo
On accounts tallied against future interest.

For the quiet calming silences made the more so
By the gentle ssssssssnip of grey white locks.
The hummmmmmed clip of tumbling tresses.

For the knowing without asking.
The questions and answers spoken by our eyes.
For the love of stories told and spirits called.

For these we give thanks.

are you happy

my in search of happiness

to my imagination
happiness is simply a state of mind;
it has nothing to do with money or wealth,
health
maybe yes.

But some with scores of dollars
are unhappy,
many with a loaf of bread are found smiling,
some have sex daily with many,
but are dissatisfied …
others don’t know what it means
and are still happy
saints they!

A Double-sided Thorn in my Side

Empty corridors leading to
rooms that hold the sounds
as to the heighth and breadth of a life;

blasphemy and unconditional love
has exited simultaneously
from, said mouth.

Avenues plowing through to
dens, that shelter the sights
as to the width and depth of a life;

honesty and deceptional activities
have existed at the same time,
from said brain.

it sounds insane
but, the fact still remains,
truer words, were never spoken;

AWAKE

nocturnal daydreams
slumber of elder babies
rescued briefly
battered, beaten, broken ones
inhale deep
relief fading
abrasive, harsh transmission waves
lapping over sacred grounds
soothed lullabies jolted
scorching light consumes
inevitable reality

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