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Neopoet Weekly 10/13/24 to 10/19/24 Winner!

 

 

Congratulations to This week’s winner Trail

 

DRIFTING CLOUDS

 

The sun rises a little earlier each day
And each day is brighter than the last
On evenings I walk out to see the sunset
And I walk back with a rested soul

I've tried to be more sincere with myself
To hold my own hand
As I walk through the darkness
To sing to myself once in a while
So that I can hear a voice
Of someone who loves me

It hasn't been an easy ride
But the clouds are coming back from the south now
And with each wave I get a feeling
That it's all going to be alright

I'm waiting for the first rains of the season
Hoping that just maybe
The heavy part of my soul
Will be washed clean
And I can smile again
Even if it's just for a while

I carry a weight in my heart
But when the breeze blows, I look up
I am stunned by the majesty of the clouds
And of the moon, and the stars
This, I think
Is how I survived for so long
A.Swantalala

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

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Kast brakken

Bare streets
brare skies
like lidless
eyes awaiting
visions from
the sulken
brawl of lamp
lights

An odor of
the hour
climbs the
speaking
steps of stairs
creaking
in its case
a ghost mandolin

Baby why we need
to turn against
Love
the flush cheek
burning like
a wind slap

Happiness was
a cup a home
to lovers
crawling through
its lairs
sipping of its
ale its drink

now its silence
and tranqs
by the sink

Beautifully Murdered By Buddha.

aimed my eyeballs
with slow precision
became Zen like
lost myself
quite beautifully

Buddha staring
into my probing
vision
no sign of
the Virgin Mother

High Noon
minus the violence
the intensity
almost
knocked me
over

stop!
no more seeking
no more
worried looks
which scatter away
the weak visioned
sleepwalking drones
who contemplate
nothing

The Back Scratcher

I can no longer scratch my back
My left wrist hurts like it's crazy
Running all way up my elbow
I can barely use my left arm.

While some with ease can twist their arms
I can no longer scratch my back
Like I'm used to since forever
Now my wrist hurts like it crazy.

Carpal tunnel has my right hand
The pain running way up my arm
I can no longer scratch my back
As easily as I used too.

A Time To Grieve

Just shed your tears and let it pour
Don't hold back, your heart is sore

Release the anger! Go ahead and scream!
My friend, I know that life can be grim

Don't let the pain consume your soul
and leave you bitter and feel so cold

Do spare some time to grief, my dear
but don't dwell too long here

The dead will want you to move on
to strive until your time is gone

So cry until your tears are dry
and keep their legacy alive

THE ROLLING CREST

Now...
where I sit and recall
the times passed
music, loved ones....all

But
it's also where I dream
of things yet to come
plans and hopes

the future

So here I am
in a never ending tension
being pulled forward and back
Ever riding the crest of Now's wave
as it rolls across
the ocean of time

And as years goes their ceaseless way
they change
just like me
as I surf onward in
the now.

NO brothers R Coming?

When we are gone

There is no one there to welcome
no garland
no red carpet treatment
no special coffee
no juices for me
no milk no sugar is needed

but by then we are all just a memory
hanging about a tall Eucalyptus tree
far in the distant ocean
or simmering horizon
they all ask fast
has the sun set at last?
I hear someone say in my ear
though deaf be I may
sweet guy don't cry be happy
no cancer injections now for thee

Chequered path

In the labyrinth of darkness
i script white spaces between black ellipses
on these cobbled thoughts I walk
some hurt others soothe
till somewhere in between those oohs and aah
I'm tranquil

come dawn
I re-tread the alpha beta omega.....

Against the Night

Against the night
you huddled up against my chest
and begged me
not to let you go.
And silently I begged you
not to let me go.

But sometimes we've learned
how cold winter can be.
And so you retreated
back to your cocoon.
And so I retreated
to my old torture chamber.

Now don't get me wrong;
despite the best efforts
of man and beast
I still smell you.

I still smell you and I.

grieve not

nirvana’s here, ‘tis not a destination
and understanding transience, the key
creation brings, of natural course, cessation
to grant inception, birth, of what will be

impermanence, a fundamental means
of death and birth and death, the rhythms sound
when this is done and that has also been
then what was not, will be arising, found

becoming, as a seed to plant, to flower
as river to a stream’s connected flow
where one thing passes into something other
and nothing’s lost, while all exists to grow

The Sound Of Rain- The Sound Of Rumbling

I love the sound of falling rain
Sounding louder on my rooftop
Steady sometimes faster it sings
Outside my sliding glass window.

I look harder to see it rain
I love the sound of falling rain
I see trees swaying in the wind
And hear the rain even louder.

Ahh, I see rain fall from gutters
Outside my sliding glass window
I love the sound of falling rain
As it pounds on top my rooftop.

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