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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.

 

Teenage stage

Being a teenager is hard
So many things happen at once,
So many expectations and obligations.

At times I gather strength to go on
Or simply I break down,
Wanting to give up,letting go.

The are days when I need a hand
A hand to touch me,
And tell me that everything will workout.

Somedays I need a hug
A voice to tell me am loved,
And needed in this life.

Somedays I need a soft look
That tells me someone understands,
And I was not born by accident,
That I am in the right direction with my life.

The Moon

The Moon.

The moon her yellow fingers, grasses light,
invisibly pale, white, underfoot a winter crunch,
a cloudless sky, the pastel globe afloat on the
blue moat of our castle home, as she in azure
heavens waked by dawn, a perfect sphere,
this october day, two thousand and eleven.

I know its last years! LuvAnn.

CERULEAN

.
lay beneath the crest of a dream
troposphere grave
glean of a hot scene

the frost fire sheen

Inkland

I
Oft there comes a wind to tell a tale,
and oft am I without the wherewithal,
to set my ship on voyage forth to sail
beyond the sight of sheets, where ink will fall.

But now, I must recite in measured verse
a tale, yet famous, but in me sublime.
I hope I do not make this tale too terse’
and spoil a song in less majestic mime.

So shall I tell the tale of Inklindon,
of merry inky folk and of their cares,
and when at length, my verse is spent and done,
I shall move on and leave you with my wares.

APPROPRIATE BIRDS

Do birds still sing at Gettysburg
in fields where Pickett made his charge
or is the weight of history there
.............too large?

I can't imagine cheerful quail
or scornful mocking birds
are tolerated at that place
where brave men screamed their final words.

And meadow larks don't belong there
where crows still silently fly by
recalling souls carried to elsewhere
by their forebears with tired sigh.

RITES OF PASSAGE

RITES OF PASSAGE

in the front parlor
on heavy purple
worn and bare
he sat
legs dangling
in the air
silent cries in dresses
sequenced black
passing by
wooden floors
that cracked
cigars and pin stripe
whispering in the back
blue chiffon and organza
in a mist sickening red
empty stomachs
stale coffee on the breath….
the touch of death.

Once there was a lovely land
'twas specifically so grand,
where a king ruled, with his queen, and the couple's prince;

they lived their lives without a care
for an even hand ruled so "fair",
such a great king had not ruled, ever since!

The young prince was coming of age
and minus squires and, his page,
he was given a quest to accomplish, on his own;

after there were two more 'morrows
he'd find the pond of double sorrows,
thus proving, he was now completely grown.

The passing...

The passing…

As his head was writing of battles,
his heart ached for peace. He
longed for the comforts of his
mother’s Serge.

The Divas had eyes of reddest red,
they danced on the bodies of those
who were to be dead.
Stiletto heels scarred the skin so
horribly tight, their dance would
last well through this coldest night.

a cross stick

Glad you told us twas an acrostic
I was about to my a neck stick
but beauty lies in poetry
emotion ...

who says it must always rhyme
while composing an acrostic
you commit no crime
rhyme or no rhyme
it was acrostic
I wrote for quite some time
till someone told me
you are...
that is..
I was
an expert of the kind
now you all follow
the free verse
of Loved's mind...

KDT

KDT

outside lava throwing fire
deep inside a little girl bent like wire though she hides

She fell once
I offered my hand
Her tears pressed too thin
to see
but she reached for me

she laid me down upon the gravel
we joined at the chest
and shared.......something
voudoun, darkness

I have never been the same

elaborate fog tendril
moves as it pleases
it hunts for those marked
upon hot summer breezes

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