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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

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

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

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

 

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

wondering words

How do i start where do i begin,
words slowly ebbing away from my mind
not a love poem
not a poem of depression
yet thoughts slip away

a poem in my mind
a few words on paper
a smile playing on lips
a soft whisper upon my ears

yet words alone do they remain
with out feeling
with out passion
words fall all the same

SHOUT them loud
let the impact fade away
until all that remains
are the words said

Two and Six.

When two little girls look up at me
it can remind me how good life can be
and when I hear their voices in play
I love the funny things, they often say.

They can be happy and sometimes sad
they can be good and they can be bad
and when they smile and ask me to play
how can I not, do what they say?

One of them is six, the other one is two
without them in my life, what would I do
and if they are sad, I wipe away their tears
ready to comfort them and take away their fears.

Gay Means Be Happy

Gay Means Be Happy

How I Wish You Were Gay
its actually as per revised titled

See so many have clicked

On the word,

Gay,

But surely it’s not that way,

In my time gay,

Was gay,

Happy,

Enjoyable,

Great fun

And

So on,

But today in this closeted minds of today,

Gay is with the rear door you play,

Be it with a woman

Or

Perhaps with another gay,

See how sex sells,

I just wrote somewhere,

The title I did display,

Was to catch all you guys

Strolling By The Sea.

Winter has its sparkle, but not for me today
my thoughts have turned to summer, not so far away.
With mild and lighter evenings and days so warm and long
I think of all the things I can do, when summer comes along.

But I’ll just want to be with you and feel you close to me
walking hand in hand with you, strolling by the sea.

WHITE CHAPEL

A little church of white washed wood
back when a few chestnuts yet stood
on a Mississippi forested hill
a place that I remember still

The structure raised by congregation
who worked with little hesitation
to build a place to sing and pray
once a week on the Lord's day

Heated by potbelly stove
with wood cut from a nearby grove
in summer cooled by open window
whenever the breeze chose to blow

The Melody of Rick

With sparks of creativity
Ricks' life created a tune,

he finally played his last refrain
in late January, at around noon.

Throughout his life, this man named, Rick
carved out a tune one could sing along,

he was unaware he'd created a symphony
from a simple tune, from a simple song.

But, that is what he precisely did
as his soul reached down, deep to sing;

his proficiency in playing the song in his heart,
countless joys, and memories does that melody, bring.

Promoted Dreams

All of my life I have tried to fly
Soaring high in the great blue skies
Gliding on dreams that were not mine
A domestication of a young life

I lived in dreams innocent and happy
Never asking; “are these my dreams?”
Never wondering where the answers
Truly lie.

Seeing life only through their eyes
And they doing the best they could
To promote the dreams they saw for me
As I fought to become free.

A Bayliner Across Oceans

My my my looks like fun
speeding across ocean waters
over blue ripples
under summer sun

The cool wind mixed with warmth
blowing in my hair
under summer clouds
in a red and white boat screaming.

If only I weren't afraid
of the vast waters
enveloping my soul
taking away my breath

Sumptious starvation

pearl eyes
you thin laced
sleeve
a magicians bride
of make believe

the hallow trick of streets
delight you make me
crawl of what and might

I feed you realms
I feed you alms
I slide the press
across your palms

this lamplight torch
that hisses love
in its glass case
home
broken winged
like a dove

Puppeteers of realism...

puppeteers of realism,

Us puppeteers won’t cry real tears,
they may run down our strings.
Never be concerned about the dolls,
reap or rape what tomorrow brings.

Controlled events leave us carefree,
this we’re taught as we grow,
In summer we’ll have private beaches,
through winter we’ll ski slopes of snow.

Higher we are and here to rule,
it’s what father has done before.
Forget how life treats those fools,
they’ll keep coming back for more.

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