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Neopoet Weekly 09/22/24 to 09/28/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-28 15:22

   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!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-21 14:59

                                                                                      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!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Thu, 2024-09-19 21:21

 

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

Neopoet Weekly 09/8/24 to 09/14/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-14 14:30

This Week’s Winner is  Edward nigma

 

 Cage of cards

 

 Chaotically clustered
cage of
cards covering
all
cynically silent
sides of life
plainly plastered
before my
persistently passing
presence of
the present day.
Thoughtlessly thrashing
out the leisurely
overlapping lanes
of possibilities
prancing through
the pressuring palms
of probability.
With a single stern stomp
taking back the cross
mask of control.
There steadily
stumbled down
the obliquely built
walls of ambiguity
freely falling at
my frivolously
fleeting feet.
Vigorously revealing
the vaguely vapid
valley of victorious
vultures who
persistently preys
upon the weak
minded ones
who decisively numb
themselves within naivety .
But still
I walk forth
ahead through
the foreboding facade
of fear
lying before me.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Neopoet Weekly 09/01/24 to 09/07/24

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sun, 2024-09-08 00:50

This Week’s Winner is Trail

 

Echoes

 

Once there was a man
Who wrote beautiful music
He wrote the music because he was sad
He was sad because he was all alone

But he was noticed for his music
He ended up being loved for it
And in being loved
He lost his sadness
And his music soon after

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

19 September Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest Winner!
14 September Neopoet Weekly 09/8/24 to 09/14/24 Winner!
8 September Neopoet Weekly 09/01/24 to 09/07/24
31 August August 2024 Contest Winners
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

The belly buddies

Submitted by Frenchf on Mon, 2013-02-04 13:33

Lala was the female front for twiggy belly buddy
Twiggy married lala to pretend normality

So no one knew that twiggy had nefarious activities
For twiggy was a gay bod but he didn’t want to be

Viewed like all the other men who were belly buddies
Ostracised and criticised for their sexuality

Poor lala traipsed with twig for all the world to see
While dips and po hide in the background happy as can be

For lala does not know that she is just a pseudo front
A pretend wife whose only use is just to bear the brunt

Frozen

Submitted by sueb on Mon, 2013-02-04 03:42

Frozen

in shock

Why didn’t I knock?

You could have locked the door
or was that part of the thrill
knowing you’d be caught for sure
If looks could kill
She’d be underground
I’m trying to keep my temper bound
I thought both of you were my best friend
now of course that has to end

Frozen

in shock

Why didn’t I knock?

those precious moments

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2013-02-04 02:00

those precious moments we search for
in the far recesses of our warped minds
we keep searching for solace,
as we leave time behind

and

march towards a stage
where rage

is the order of the day

and
page by page
we recall those very moments tall
we wish to time and again recall
but moments of momentum
are all so very few
we all love memories
how so ever old or new

Learning to fly

Submitted by Jenifer James on Sun, 2013-02-03 23:52

I am dark and fierce, full of shadow
bolt and lock the inner door
pebble water river poem
heart ease pale distraction
placed in haste totally at random
verbal stepping stones
but where-
to place my feet

my battered thesis curls with dust
academic failure cackles on the floor -
I thought I would be famous

I am

Submitted by jzarmel on Sun, 2013-02-03 14:12

Unscathed by decisions made
Knowing no one will relate
How I behave is the effect
Subliminal silence
Tattoos. Artistic dialect
Chemical vibrance
As I place pieces of my soul
Into poems untold
Hidden behind what I reap
I've sown an impression of deep
Darkness

DOUBLE VISION

Submitted by scribbler on Sun, 2013-02-03 13:35

I see you sitting over there
holding grandson in your arms
in your old Boston rocking chair
captured by an infant's charms

And I've seen that look before
years and decades in the past
contentment, love and so much more
a look I thought whose time had passed

So grandmadonna rock that child
the tiny son of second son
sing to him with pure voice, mild
another journey has begun

Nuerosanctity.......

Submitted by Esker on Sun, 2013-02-03 08:42

cascade this blade of light
sharpening the eyes
your stare finds me
through the thicket
and dream wicket

How you lead me
transfixed through resolutions
of moods and emotions

how far i travel
shadowlands
you find me with
a look a call

the delicate footfalls
behind me in my
labyrinth halls

to lean against
an arm
and feel this
soft length hair

alive like the worlds
winter wonder
in the morning
arctic air

Legally Tender

Submitted by crypticbard on Sun, 2013-02-03 06:44

.

The key of currency
is the changing of hands,
a baton passed on
in constant motion
that binds together
all its participants.

A fresh, crisp bill
is a virgin still,
between your fingers
whose anticipation
and epic journey
are yet to unfold.

.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening (great poetry shop)

Submitted by scribbler on Sat, 2013-02-02 22:14

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake

Workshop: 
GREAT POETRY (a workshop)

GREAT POETRY WORKSHOP: Storm by Tomas Transtromer (translated by Robin Fulton)

Submitted by Jenifer James on Sat, 2013-02-02 19:03

Here the walker suddenly meets the giant
oak tree, like a petrified elk whose crown is
furlongs wide before the September ocean's
murky green fortress.

Northern storm. The season when rowanberry
clusters swell. Awake in the darkness, listen:
constellations stamping in their stalls, high
over tree tops

Workshop: 
GREAT POETRY (a workshop)

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