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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.

 

V E S P E R I N G

in the trench silt silence
slitting neuron night crush
hope glitters up
and stains the books
dead poets eyes
dust cover falling
beneath the droll words
rushing like a mantle
crumbling in a cry

here in this hiss
sticky glimpse the life
behind besmirched frames

footsteps of grit
to window seek
slowly there

Passion I hear you
cellophane longing
unwrapping a new
book of love

The Fog

There are times
still
when the fog
rolls in
and you can't see
for sheer
density

You forget
for a moment
that the light
doesn't dwell
somewhere outside
but breathes
from deep
within you

but that is ok

Being lost
in the fog
brings it's own
beauty

IN THE WAITING ROOM (imagery shop) rewrite

In this waiting room I sit
old eyes are red from lack of sleep
hospital chair don't ever fit
wall clock's hands just barely creep

Stomach wanting to vent gas
as it rebels from vending food
but I refuse to let it pass
unlike some here in this brood

All the magazines areold
the newest May of oh eleven
one has even grown some mold
this place is near reverse of heaven

why everything turns green

My head is killing me with passion
and the dog is barking poetry.
It's Saturday and crows are honking
with an early morning mist. Sea gulls
shriek their displeasure or to argue
about why humans waddle like ducks
in and out of their cities.

Sometimes, I am so filled with love
for it all, there's no one left to speak
of romance.

Not today.

A Stranger’s Visit

He stood silent
With an empty face,
Clad in invisibility
And leaned on a monstrous sickle
Right there at the entrance
Pitilessly watching
-our beloved
On that grim bed
As he laboured
For a piece of breath

A sad sight
And we who claim
Ourselves masters of herbs
Could do nothing
Not even see,
Plead or fight
Him that stood
At the entrance
Neither reaping
Nor helping
Or away leaping
To a different field

Crushed Velvet

Crushed Velvet

Plunging into
the crystal clear waters
many secrets hiding
under the luscious
sapphire pools
of lonely
indigo shadowed desire
meets with delicious
subaqueous forests
of rich emerald
crushed velvet desire
revealing a haven
of beautiful acceptance
where the starlit silence
of her fairy
childlike devotion
pure and resplendent
in a swirl of melding
this tide pool of loving...
the meridian of the soul

Indictment Of A Passive People (Pt.1)

The words that will leave my mouth I dear say
May not be what you want to hear
But now is not the time to cast your bait and hook
Hoping that you will catch a fish in time for lunch
The time when you could have relied on hope:
When time was on your side – when you could have
Afforded to take aim and miss – that time is long gone!
But since you are blinded by your self-delusion
That your present state could only be worst not better
That your standard of life is the way it should be
You have unconditionally resigned from

CRYSTALLED CRACKS (Imagery Workshop)EDITED.

CRYSTALLED CRACKS

Listen to the still of winters exit

lulled in the heat of march midday

hear the great tit shout for joy

see the silver drips

that drop from snow-clung clumps in trees

smell the sudden brew of autumn's pungent leaves

the sky reflected deep deep blue

in pools of melted ice
too fresh to taste

icicles tumble, heavy thuds

their crystal forms crazed, cracked

transformed to lacy netting

holed and patched

A WALK IN THE WILDERNESS

It started like a play at work
I saw some scary shaded forms
Meet a good sister of a friend
The rest is a tall tale you hear

Our people say this all the time
A trickster does not put his hand
In the pocket of one his kind
Lest the two pass others their mess

Looks deceive people a whole lot
The more innocent, the least suspect
Grave is the danger it can cause
Vigilance becomes the watchword

Docile clammy gown
I am the sad man clown
drawn down
these darkened cloak scenes
the shaded eye
with curved lash entice

the water tap chome ignites
with the pallour of the light
the pale hand has taken
the need
from cabinet lair

tumbles a clip for the hair
bright and shiny
cosmetic soft the jewel
colour call

it dances in the grasp
the porcelain world
dulled and sullied

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