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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.

 

For Stan again Pastoral workshop

This stroll I’ve taken time and times before.
Each moment was as pleasant as the last.
I’ve seen the trees and harkened to Stan’s lore
while trodding grass as green as days long past.
For green and lush they were spite all the pain
and now I can recall the loveliness.
The fear is still remembered, but as gain;
those lessons learned that helped me to address
the joys and how to keep them close to me.
And so I walk again with my old friend
to gaze at flowers red and blue he sees.

COMMUTER

Ensconsed inside my cubicle
beneath the false florescent light
eyes strained from flickering monitor
I glance at the clock's hands
then stare

The sweep hand at last passes twelve
as the short one lands on five.
I rise and stretch then join
the exodus
from sterility

Elevator to the parking level
somebody farts
an unwelcome sharing
from one uncaring

GONE FISHING

GONE FISHING

My mind is still sharp and clear
and I understand the world about me.
but my art is no longer true
to the visions I seek
and when I speak
I disappear into mediocrity

I think It's time
to leave it all behind
and let my silence tell
what my words fail to do.
It's time to let go ...

Portrait of a room (pastoral poetry workshop)

A curtain yields to the light inflation of air
Then, earnestly as an ushering hand
Shoos the stillness of this room
Leaving a fledgling light for you

Sometime...Somewhere (Effective Pastoral WS)

I always wished to live where angels are,
on shores perhaps… but oceans often rage
and put down everything including dreams,
I'd rather pick a safer place to dwell.

So maybe higher places, 'way and far
where mountains touch the clouds, the moon is full,
but then the eyesight jars the skyscrapers,
and sure that's not where angels often are.

DECOPAUGE

pause
paisse

crush your midst
lean nude upon
the frame
coated in the cruel light
the cold of night
pressed in the shape
rising
basalt
seamless

the light burns
in its urn
upon the wall
the television
an eye
the blue headlamp
stalled

the bruises
run up
creep like
shadows
the brilliant
eye
glitters
hot
sad
haunted
lost

Hold me my love

So soothingly
so beautiful
coming from the cream
of modern youth,

my time since then
you make me recall
you wet my lips

and

Whet my appetite...

I love her still
though tis late,
sans we are
sans all

But still we admire the years,

like you we did once kill
but desire lingers still,
let’s be a part of youth again
and
ask time, to for a while stand still....

I and she try still....

Delivering Male

I'm secure in my maleness,
never give it a thought
but after events this morning
even I said " what "?

To me it was cold,
sporting two shirts,
had to get the girls up
for school and work.

My daughter had made
a delicate bracelet,
pink and yellow beads,
in my hair, she placed it.

I turned off the fans,
my wife likes it cold,
but here I was shivering,
needing a coat.

Pastoral poem

A cool summer rain is a blessing,
a panacea.
A wild winter wind is a cursing,
a cursing of God.
A warm autumn gale is relieving
from mad summer heat.
Spring has a special breeze sent from that God-
a cool summer rain.

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