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Mother's Day Image Prompt Contest

Mother's Day Image Prompt Contest

Please read the following poems

And vote below.

Voting ends May 26th 2024

Mum... You and I

By: Rula

 

Together we witnessed time ebbs and tides:

we went through ups, we went through downs,

yet luckily we got each other's sides,

you and I, you and I.

 

Together, unwillingly, we grew old,

with devestating wrinkles, and white hair.

We both raised families, yet we're still bold

You and I, you and I.

 

Together we laughed, together we cried:

I uplifted your spirits, you got my tears wiped,

we stayed together, side by side,

You and, I you and I.

 

Together we lived for worse and better,

until Alzheimer's stole you, my bank of love,

although you promised to stay forever

You and I, you and I.

 

My Gold

By Mr joghe

 

In whom I spent my old days and nights,

Who rocked me in my cradle;

And fed my pretty mouth with a spoon,

Did weep while I should weep.

How much will I pay

For the pain you’ve taken for me?

 

Who worked that jumper to keep me warm;

Treated me with diffidence and respect,

Her healthy arms always be my stay,

And always admired my prudent face that filled with laughter.

How much will I pay

For the pains you’ve taken for me?

 

Who tired me with apology for being tiresome,

And asked twenty questions and never waited for an answer.

My timidity struck her at the first sight;

When she taught me to expect something extraordinary.

How much will I pay

For the pains you’ve taken for me?

 

I find such a pleasure

In obeying her commands,

That I take care to observe;

Shall soon come to bless me.

How much will I pay

For the pains you’ve taken for me?

 

I vow, I thought so;

Never, as among queens and princesses

In her age; to be explicit,

I’ve kept very little company

In pretty smooth dialogues with her.

How much will I pay

For the pains you’ve taken for me?

 

Vote Here

Thank you for your participation!

Neopoet Weekly 05/12/24 to 05/18/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 


Mosquitos Suck!
  By William Lynn

 

Congratulations to William Lynn for racking up another contest win!

Neopoet Weekly 05/05/24 to 05/11/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

Ways of loving by  Terumi Sakurai

Let us congratulate Terumi Sakurai on their first win as a neopoet member.

About Contests

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To take a look visit
https://www.neopoet.com/contest/program-description-and-guidelines

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

HEART OF CHALK [Italian/ English]

CUORE DI GESSO

Avvicinati.
Vieni
ancora piu’ presso
a me.
Vedi nell’anima mia,.
Cuore di gesso.
Sa’ cos’è ammazzare,

HEART OF CHALK

Come closer
Come closer still.
Look into my soul.
Heart of chalk,
Know what it is to kill.

teenager single mom

teenager single mom
How is the kid?
love him
many women hanker
in the twilight for they desire
to see the sunrise effect
from last night's sojourn
but we can't reconcile
where the manliness of man has gone
and
left her warmed up oven forlorn
the morn of a dying kind surfaces
when most go in for IVF,
at least small mercies
God's gift
at times prove best
see the sun as a rising one,
its setting too somewhere 'tis true
but a positivity

"VIRGIN" WOODS

It's not as hot beneath the shade
of these old sentinel trees.
And cooler than out in the glade
where blazing sun defeats the breeze.

Yet these are hardly virgin woods.
hold many hints of old farm days,
A silent silo stands and broods
where dairy cattle used to graze.

Low terraces still run the hill
from back when cotton ruled the land.
I guess the farmers lost their will
then left their empty house to stand.

Heart's Dues (Rhyme Crimes WS assign.3)

You said you'll pay my heart its due,
and fill it up with life-new,
but all you bid already I knew,
no sun or air nor drops of dew.

Understand my heart, be considerate.
Don't hesitate,come on now.
Underhand moments let's forget.
Compensate what's lost, it's never late.

It's you who'll bring my heart the joys,
rejoice the broken hearts' reunion,
when soon you give my heart its justice,
just away from pride and prejudice.

Workshop: 

cold snap (rhyme crimes workshop exercise three)

.
for three long weeks, non-stop, the south wind blew
and shook the tender trees from bough to bough
while Frosty Jack, he also took a bow
as everybody’s lips and tips turned blue

cyanosed, so many gasped for warmth
attitudes and postures shrank and dimmed
I supposed that once these days were through
multitudes might then no longer be

with thought of frigid death will come despair
too soon aware, so many turn to prayer
in hope that somewhere, somehow words will find
a god who’s kind, who’ll send his fiery breath

Workshop: 

Claim

Claim by RW
-
-
What matters not is amplified
"This didn't go so well" he cried
the common flagrant combination
of ego and false condemnation
and worse yet, there's a dictate thrown
that poems must rhyme to be shown
it's this that ends my hesitation
to point out that my true oblation
can contain iambs and tera-dactyls
they flow the random path of fractals
-
This is meant for one you see
who openly addressed for me
the way a poem ought to be

L I N I M E N T

Tin sleep awake
the darkened breaths
softly rising
weak like a new hour

We are ghosts lost you
and I
weaving patterns in the
storyboard of weather
permitting moods

the rustle of the rain
at night
sunparched ground
sighing

verdant rivers of wind
complex and seeking
in the mystery of lives

our words are supple
liniments for the woes
we do not own

our histories held in

waiting to be soothed

Anniversary (revised)

"Anniversary"

A bouquet of roses
from your hands to mine,
while chilling on ice
a bottle of wine.

Gift box on the table
tied with red bows,
logs burn in the fireplace
while outside it snows
.
Long tapered candles
dimly lighting the room,
gently dispersing
those tendrils of gloom.

The moonlight streaming
through the windowpane,
soft music playing
an old lover's refrain.

one tanka (japanese poetry workshop)

television shows
sometimes coincide with life
this seems trite, I know
but often happens in times
when my life is full of strife

diluted glut

diluted glut

What is this state we call monarch,
a word poverty, what does it mean.
Can we eat a monarch’s left over’s,
so making the word poverty, clean.

I can’t see beyond monarchs first letter,
when it’s meaning fills me with outrage.
No one should be thinking their better,
than any creature they’d kill to assuage.

Should we just discard the infirm or ageing,
helping only those we deem to be an equal.
Shall a monarch applaud these ways discerning,
assuming we’ve been groomed to their will.

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