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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

 

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
25 August Neopoet Weekly 08/18/24 to 08/24/24 Winner!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Compositions

Submitted by Shamoneness on Wed, 2012-11-21 00:29

Who am I?
I’ve never really known
I find myself in those moments
That bring me to my essence
Melancholy and innocence
Dark and Light
One in the north, one in the south
Through the east and through the west
On the surface it’s so hard
I myself seems very far
I find myself in those I love
All of them different, but all of them me
So who could I be?
I am not you, I am not you
Composed of such variety
Who is this, my entity
Difficult to pinpoint one source
Who is this, something more?

Carefree

Submitted by sueb on Tue, 2012-11-20 19:26

Experienced darkness

enveloping blackness

I'm a blank canvas

death would be bliss

Memories haunt

enemies flaunt

dreams taunt

life I no longer want

Lost in a maze

a disturbed gaze

happiness no trace

hell I can face

Be happy for me

I'll be finally free

hold me in your memory

imagine me carefree

If Life Were Only Poetry

Submitted by drachm on Tue, 2012-11-20 11:33

Oh, if life were only poetry!
I would fill my love’s cup
With yonder bright stars.
And make of her life
More of heaven then earth.
I would take from her flowing lips
The sweet charms of nippy kisses.
I’d watch her eyes flicker as a busy bee
As she takes in the nectar of a garden rose.
Oh, if only I could fill her cup
With the passions from my heart.
To endlessly write of her loveliness;
Yet, dwell in ever word penned.
Oh, if life were only poetry!

poets strugglers

Submitted by loved on Tue, 2012-11-20 11:05

poets strugglers

you are more than what you are

a star
born star…

in poetry the other poets
never or rarely give one

you all hearts have won
and
I still live in hope

someday some moody one

shall come by my way,
to say hello poet !

how come so long
barren you did stay

my inner feelings
for your dad
I know how one feels
when one loses one ...

I lost mine decades since…

Enedentian Epic: Canto III

Submitted by William Saint George on Tue, 2012-11-20 09:34

Before the world was given hue,
ere mountain rose or forest grew,
and young was river under sky;
before the frost capped mountains high,
when young was leaf and new was root 5
and youthful brooks run round the foot
of hilly country, wide and far,
and lightened by the roaming star;
when wind would whisper with a voice
and grasses in response rejoiced, 10
the maiden's song, creation's strain
still could be heard. A sweet refrain.
Creation's strain, the maiden's song

Workshop: 
Storytelling in Verse (sempiternal)

The Void...

Submitted by Geezer on Tue, 2012-11-20 07:47

The void was wider than first appeared
Bigger and deeper than he had feared
Emptiness there, was all he could see
Sick to his soul, spewing debris

Who would know, what was happening then?
It was something quite beyond my ken
If only I had known... if he had let me in
Then I might have saved him from his sin

He disappeared, then came back one day
Wanted to know, if he’d been away
I couldn’t tell him, ‘cause I didn’t know
He’s my brother, but I didn’t see him go

BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS: Portuguese/ English

Submitted by Geremia on Mon, 2012-11-19 21:43

Trás-Os-Montes

faz um milhão de anos
parece
que deixei os vales
altos
trás os montes
altos
acima do mar
onde a lua amarêla pålida
faixas de vermelho escuro
sangra noite
e a chuva entristece dia
Há lugares nêste mundo
onde vai a natureza
a chorar a sua tristeza
lugares que seguem
o coração
onde quer que vai

Antique Mustard

Submitted by BettyBuff on Mon, 2012-11-19 15:13

'Antique Mustard'
Is the colour of
bile
It's going to be
revived in
vapourous vintage
magazines of
style

I never liked it
only said it was
"Devine"
so you'd be
inclined
to behave like a
rampant dog

The pre-paint sex
was splashed
on our walls
mingled with the bile
secretion

It's a primative pleasure
to look at the walls
and secretly want to
smell
them

how happy can Loved be ?can you imagine

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2012-11-19 09:08

how happy can Loved be can you imagine
for siding me
the world of poets have taken my advice,
more compose freer verse
and avoid being routine-sh terse
many no longer adopt
ab ab ac ac
and what have you,
if Loved didn't exist
nor would have Shakespeare too

So be yourself and express
what you need to say
poetry is just an emotion
a flow of feelings
a desire only to ease tension
as more share with you gradually
so thank
Lovedly

Cenancestor

Submitted by wesley snow on Sun, 2012-11-18 23:31

The protoplanetary disc
would make a man.
Organics there assumed a risk
and life began.
In alkali of nascent rain
new RNA had much to gain
and much to lose with lofty plan
to make a man.

The chemoautotrophic bisque
unhurried span
abundant seas now teeming brisk
with microbe clan.
And bathed in this interior~
The Universal Ancestor
shaped carbon as an artisan
to make a man.

Bisque; a rich soup (French)
As for the rest of it~ Google!

Workshop: 
fixed verse – it's not a curse

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