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This week the Neopoem is Symphony in the Stars by Seren. Congratulations to Seren on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly winner.

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This week the Neopoem is Recurrence by Kristen H . Congratulations to Kristen H on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly winner.

The stream (all workshops)

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



HEREFORD ART GALLERY Peacock in rusty steel circles Knife angel cast with iron wings Hereford Bull Iron glancing A winged mermaid with wings A wooden owl with snipped vertical wings Twins reading a book as siblings The face misshapen in hiding The ostrich garden girl pecking The flight of a girl skipping Bright red dragon webbed feet Walking the dead holding up lanterns The Scottish thistle just spouting The standing turning around looking Japanese warrior guarding RED DRAGON The man in the universe star gazing The Sculpted head flower to spring Peacock in rusty garden circles Knife angel c

Let It Be

The American Woman is old

and obsolete

stands at zero altitude

with sagging bosom

and worn robes

but she still salutes

huddled masses

with her hand



The idea that was colossus

and valued above all for so long,

is now unsuccessful,

and measured in milligrams,

Desert Storms

My place of patience always fleeting
Slipping through my very hands
Blown about by my hot air
Like storms that rise from desert sands

It’s best not to disturb the grains
For to the wind they would be cast
Instead I’ll steady mind and heart
Until the savage storm has passed

Rescinding to my inner self
Reflective meditation deep
A trance divine and self imposed
Now awakens me from sleep


Remind me once more
What a man is for
So I know what to forget
Build with me a bonfire
The bones are here but brittle
We are each just a set of impressions
Made and had
Paper soldiers
Biding time on the back page
Burn not the effigy
When the blood you spilled
Was for the man in me
The little lives you traded
For the one we couldn’t make
Paint a picture of a lonely life
I can't make due with holy
Having trafficked in sin
I'll not settle for silence


Red, orange, pink and blue,
these colors make me think of you.

The sun rests and the moon wakes,
the clouds cover the dying rays.

The color will die, and darkness will ensue,
but I'll always keep the thought of you.

In My Element

The river flows with such an intensity
that the very earth is torn away with its current.

The hurricane blows,
Ripping apart everything in its path.

The ocean crashes,
Digging caves and capsizing entire ships.

Destructive by nature
Stronger than any living being,

The very same element that flows through me,
and sustains life itself,

is gentle enough to fall from the sky
and wash away my tears.

(Your Name Here) In Nothing Land

I'm a lonely person
who walks this world
in search of

People say to grab
the world
with your finger tips
but all I feel is

Nothing has become
me, nothing
will always

While I go long on
this road to
Nothing Land.

Wolf Moon

Beneath the moon
The foreboding moon
Raven tress and bare skinned
She came...

The beast within him
Raged with anticipation
As he sunk his teeth
Into her nape

Blood oozing from her wounds
Sanguine stains across her breasts
Gently he brushes a claw
Against her vapid cheeks

Now it was only a matter of time
Before their species intertwined
A gutteral howl rose from deep inside
She was now part of his blood

Life Can Change

It's funny how fast your life can change
How fast you can be flipped upside down
One minute you're working and smiling
And the next you're lying on the ground

That was me, I was living a happy life
But then my dream took me by surprise
From then on I had a hunger for success
It took quite a while for me to realize

Sometimes we think we're falling apart
Our worlds are only falling into place
I worked my body into the ground
And my dreams I continued to chase

Caught in the Act

You used to sing sometimes
    in your man-cave under the house
        when we were playing outside:
It’s only words and humming
       and words are all I have -
            a song not meant for six-year-olds;
You had more than words,
       even back then I could sense,
            I knew somehow there was more:
The look in your eyes and 
    delight clear in the wrinkles


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