Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Home

Community News

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.

 

Wait for me

Wait for me

Wait for me
around the edge of time
the edge of time
when I am called

hold my hands in yours.
press them to show your love
come to my arms
just for a while,
as time slips by
below my feet
in a puff of smoke

I’m about to go
over the cliff
hold me tight
just once more,

for then who knows for sure
whether I shall be anymore
your love is all I sought
these years gone by
how time did fly
none can say

Cat-like on the prowl

Her assignment was easy,
almost drooling with the thought of
the delectable Simon.
In London, the train stations
record human senses, one just
has to be on the prowl, cat-like
on her jaguar paws.

He nearly missed the train this morning,
and everything changed for a few minutes,
Can you imagine the silence of suspended
animation? With a little help, he did catch
the 8 a.m. just
as he does every week day.
She would sit
next to him, soaking in his aura. Inhaling
him in her love.

SLABS OF EXISTENCE

SLABS OF EXISTENCE"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 25th March 2012.

Slabs of existence, 
we move them, caress them, 
climb them, 
they are with us 
wherever we go, 

inescapable boulders of awareness, 
'so beautiful, (should I take out these two lines of value judgement?) 
so ugly,' 
so all embracing, 
so much, our senses 
gathered in a bundle 
of being;

we see out of eyes,
mirrored, 
like the facets of a stone, 
its gems, 
some hidden inside the rock, 

Magic Trick

You are dissolving

Before my eyes

Like a magic trick

that has gone horribly wrong

Soon you will have disappeared

Into the open atmosphere

And I’ll be left standing alone

In front of the empty space

Where you used to be

Days like that......

Like its one of those days; it’s one of those things;
All mean the same to you:
There is an unseen weight yet still so real
weighing down upon you dampening your spirit
stifling your growth
It’s like you are suspended in mid-air; you are in stasis
With some strange being at your rudder;
You are at its mercy: turned, spun, rolled, rotated, pulled, pushed
your activities are futile but all you feel like doing is nothing
your environment have become this barren

Whispers and bone

There are hardwood pews at the end of the path
There are beetles that shimmer and shine
But they sit there so humbly as if they were safe
Is it all down to chance, their survival, and mine?

I used to howl for the moon, in the wind, in the storm
And sit on my own by the lake
I used to sing for the sound and the comfort
Thinking all that I had could be anyone’s take

Through the Dust Did Come....Movito

He did appear to have possession
of a Mojo with a Konk-konk-cheroo!

his hesitance cost him, valuably;
he'd still be sitting in a room with no "view".

Take my place, won't you feel the "magic"?
one could learn a thing, or three;

this cursed, dusty, desert's hollow,
with vacant emptiness as far as one can, see.

Then, came this way....a stranger-boy
who could see right-past, the dust;

and, then know what was coming, next
with a sixth sense he could trust.

Beginning of a Lie

I begin to panic
Caught in this frightening event
With so much to loose
Oh, how I dream to turn back the clock
But I cannot.

Looking down, I ponder through every memory I have recorded
And I do not know the truth
I do not know how to explain
There is no way for me to justify my action.

Caught in this place of fear and anxiety
I begin to fabricate a fantasy
And as my false tale drips from my lips
My body grows numb
Sweat at the palms
Unable to move
And difficult to breathe.

T A B A R E T

your mouth slips phrases
through bruised nights
stars upon your flicks
and at your sides
the worry shadows
keep like windows
locked

milkweed sweet
the monarch drinks
beneath the fat eye
of this sordid dream

a heavens creature
rapture rests
music of chimes
the wavelength nest
spun cup the thoughts
of stirring dark
and rising star

where magic and illusion
mix

Curious

Remnants of palaces owned once
I have seen
as in shadowed screams ,
as hallucinations
which once were dreams
and
since the emergence of time,
I still see the shadows
dark and still….
cobwebs of my mind,
but my nerves such occurrences don't kill
as I am the steel
behind caged minds,
holding my own hand,
as in the loneliness
of darkened ravines
I alone stand,
hopefully
no one can me kill!

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.