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April 2024 Contest Winners

Congratulations to our April 2024 contest winners!

Spring Fling  was won by Carrie with the poem Spring Fling

04/24 I Was An April Fool was won by Geezer with the poem Fooled Again...

04/24 Waiting In Line was won by  Mary Beth Magee  with the poem The Last Time

04/24 Are We There Yet?  Was won by Rula with the poem We're Almost There For It

04/24 My Favorite Cookie was won by Leslie with the poem After school treat!

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Vote for this month’s image prompt contest winner

Voting ends May 6th 2024.

Vote at the end of this newsletter.

 

Backwards

By: Carrie

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

G
I wanna fly a kite
A
At night instead of day,
C
I wanna drive a big old truck
D
The opposite way
G
I wanna laugh when I’m sad,
C
And cry when I’m happy and gay
D A
I wanna do what no one’s done
G
Any other day.

G
I wanna wear all my clothes
A
Wear em all inside out,

C
I wanna be real quiet,
D
When everybody else wants to shout
G
I wanna see the stars
C
When everybody else sees the sun
D
I want my day to end
C G
When everybody else’s has begun.

C D
Wouldn’t it be weird, wouldn’t it be funny and strange
A
If everyone thought like this,
G
Slightly deranged.

 

 

Lost Love

By: Alex Tanner

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

For fleeting months we tarried,
Each time we met we knew
This may be the last time
For lovers hours are few.

If I love ten thousand women
Tis you I will recall;
You gave yourself so willing,
For your passion I did fall.

On black nights as the wind howls,
As I lie in a bed so cold,
Your soft voice echoes 'cross the years
To warm my lonely soul.

                                                                                                                                         

Vote Here

Thank you for your participation.

This week the Neopoem is

 

 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on his first contest win as a neopoet member.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Imagine

Imagine there is heaven,
Consciousness of a feeling,
Euphoria that cannot be found,
Whilst we live attached to our ground.

Grounded only in truth,
Or lies that grow from false reality,
Spawned by temporary enlightenment,
What grows to ingest by you and me.

A taste of imagine,
The hurt of permanent transcendence,
Or slowing to stop then move on,
Imagine there is heaven.

Maybe Baby

Maybe I should have told you how lovely you were
when the sun made you shade your look-away eyes.

Maybe I could have been more help with your troubled daughter
when you spoke of your regrets for her.

Maybe our concert tickets I left for you after we parted
was the right gesture for me to say goodbye.

Maybe I should have realized your crowded past
didn't leave much room for our future.

Maybe maybe just wasn't enough.

Floating

I remember how it feels to levitate,
To rise from the floor and hover there.
Recalling how I glided across the room,
Breaking, overcoming the law of gravity
By my own strength of belief, I laugh with the joy of the memory.
So clearly the days live in my memory.
How familiar the sensation felt,
How perfectly normal to skim along
Light as a whisper against skin,
Mere Inches above the floor.
In those innocent days of childhood
I believed I could float, so I did.
But how long ago it has been
Since I could float?

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine - Feeling Lost

Feeling lost at presence
with a broken heart
mourning for the losses
at a devastating sight
drowning into
a deep sink-level
of the body wash
carrying with a
heavy burden weight
bringing tears to flow
in an emotional stage
with life barrier
whisper in grief
embracing with helpless
words have no form
are falling from the lips
with a heartbeat race
at an excruciating fright
in asking for help
to shed a light
of guidance
for peace and
forgiveness

Springtime Brings Fun Time

It's a lovely day
Springtime is on its way
Azalea ‘red slippers’ is in full bloom
Monarch flutters by in all its majesty
Hardworking bumblebees are busy pollinating.

Springtime is busy with life
I hear bumblebees are friendly and won't get agitated if you pet it
Are they flying pandas?
The black monarch bounces from bloom to blossom
pollinates and brings balance to our ecosystem
Springtime brings fun time after the winter blues

I made a good impression today April 19th, 2023...

getting fitted for a new pair of dentures
at Liberty Dental in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania;
The tab picked up courtesy
Aetna Medicare Advantra Cares (HMO D-SNP).

Unfinished Poems

Does there exist a special place
Somewhere safe in time and space
For poems started, bright with thought,
But never finished? Well, there ought
To be an orphanage for verses
Whose forward motion struck reverses
And never quite became complet…

Friday 3 am

Too troubled to speak he grabbed pen and paper — this
in the days before nearly everything everyone was connected interlocked
chained together in the air the ether — and let words flow
words of angst pain rage from the tips of his fingers onto the page

Before Alexa and Siri were with a spoken word available at beck and call
to summon a musical mood or answer a nagging query
the words said there’s nothing to be said that hasn't been said
no matter what you've read original thought is dead

Wait For Me...

I was waiting in line,
just standing there.
Been waiting so long
I needed a chair.

Why was everything
taking so long?
I stood fidgiting,
humming a song.

Long hair and jeans,
a Pink Floyd T-shirt.
I knew in a moment,
this look would hurt

I'd be searched for the drugs,
they knew that I had.
I was a smuggler,
they knew I was bad.

What's in the bag,
that you have right there?
My clothes and a doll
for my dearest, sweet Claire.

The Day John Lennon Died

I had lost a child just five days before,
a stillbirth, and so, time was already meaningless.
Hours bled into each other, and heavy thoughts
settled around me like a fog - cold and empty.

And then came such irrational news that December evening.
Dakota.
Shots fired.
The Catcher in the Rye.
Lennon, dead.

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