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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.

 

The Safety Door (Feb. contest)

He crushed one last fearful thought
and pushed open the dreaded door
Onward into the lion’s den
tingles shattering his body core
Not a moment less
Not a moment more

Each of which held a promise
A dark fearful proposal
He clenched his keys
with a well meant fist
clenched them, until his hand was sore
Not a moment less
Not a moment more

ROADS edit

ROADS

Ironic twists and turns in the roads we choose
sudden beginnings; abrupt endings
choices that bring us to unexpected places
but places where we are meant to be.
Cruel strikes from out of nowhere
that maim and cripple body and soul.
Time drags us along and we follow

Eulogy

Breathing deep
the drinking hard
he's forgotten all
about the card

light under the door
throbbing and angry
its against him
against him
how he tries
they just dont care

His rage wells
and he thrusts
down the handle
and falling shoves
his way in
the words roaring
out

in her hands the
scissors
the glue the glitter
she nicks her
hand
This mess he curses
his narrowed
eyes
the fumes
against the
tension
in the room

Hello all Happy Valentine Day

Hello all Happy Valentine Day

Love is a feeling,
unexplainable by anyone,
some see in love
a mom’s affection,
another a friends imagination,
yet many see love,
mostly as sex
in all its manifestation

But love has a special meaning for two,
who know they love each other
the way you do.
Valentines come and they go,
all that I know
love alone has its unique flow.

VIRTUAL DOOR(Feb. Contest)

I press a key and instantly
with a flash of transformed sand
a screen's threshold opens up for me
to carry me from my homeland.

A chosen tap decides just where
my electron self will go today
and with whom my thoughts I'll share.
To which key should my finger stray?

For each one is a type of door
lined up like portals down a hall.
"Pick me!" they each seem to implore
with their beguiling silent call.

Doors (Feb. contest)

In Rome an arch was like unto a gateway to
a realm unlike Eternal Rome could hope to be.

Two Pillars make one unknown door that will be crossed
despite that on the other side will evil be.

So what then is a door but passage on and toward.
Departure and Arrival is gross meant to be.

So open doors, you must you know or life stands still.
Most doors are changes, ruts are ended, I at last am free.

Qs

I‘ve captured a memory, of which I’m so proud
reflecting an icon of purest delight
to never be sullied with paint, I have vowed
and just what and how, I shall, to you, recite

while snoozing one morning, I heard the TV
Sesame Street was on for the day
I heard my young son, a year less than three
joining the singing and word interplay

I thought he’d be safe if I stayed where I was
I left him there to it, after all’s said and done
I thought I might nap just a bit more, because
he seemed to be having such wonderful fun

S U B M E R Z E

bathed in the wishbone colours
supple blue
the deathly hue

the last late bus
slips away
the worn worm
from the dark bloc hut

the click key motion
gloved turn
and a wall light
yellow hall
falls
the door swinging open
the locks in a canal
of dark
splashing
winters tinder dry

stagger high
flicker lamps
come to release
come to cry
the hollow
room will soak
these sighs

A soldier’s battle

A soldier’s battle

The distant jungles abandoned
it gives me a virtual image of a soldier
across the thick jungles
of a place called Vietnam.
The youth then needs you most
the tenderness
since replaced with anger and wrath
against the enemy
hiding behind the tree...

Jungles are a dangerous place to be
as one doesn't know
a reptile, a snake or the bullet of an enemy
may take one’s life just for the asking

Village King

there’s a corner of my deck
still boasts the sun at two o’clock
where I sit and watch the people down below

and behind them on the harbour
laden boats are cutting water
bringing curios from the land of ice and snow

I imagine I am king
with a sceptre fit to sting
believing no one doubts a single word I say

of secret stitches in the curtain
all my subjects know for certain
they’ll be anchors for the longboats in the bay

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