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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.

 

HAPPINESS!!

I would have married happiness
if happiness was a man
and cuffed its hands-
if a thief - to mine,
I would have caught it-
an infectious malady,

for that would gurantee
dying blithely :)

time's solemn truth

We are just ghosts
enslaved by time
slipping through
the portals of seconds
squeezing through cracks,

freedom is the illusion
reality lies in delusions
as the soul is raped
by the mind ...

why Darkness is black (an abecedarius)

as to why Darkness is black...
bruised, she is - that's why
co-ordination being something she
definitely seems to lack
every evening she gracefully approaches, then
falls
gowned in jewels and shiny clouds of
homespun gossamer silk
inelegance seems something unconnected, but she's
jinxed to slip, evey time, on the Way of Milk -
kismet – her fate to
leave bruises to add depth and
meld with colours of the apex of
night’s bewitching cloak
open is the heart of the poor lovely Lady Nyx

open ALL doors

do remind me
Sparoe /ion

when the doors are about to close
I shall then enter
through your open door
and open a pandora's door
(OKAY NO METAPHOR THEN BOX..)

beware lots of bees will be there
keep your door secure
and locked
or have a fire near by
ere the bees stick to yours

doors friends
what else ?
happens
behind closed doors....

For Niamh, A Stranger

you, irish girl, i will never see you again
but of course i remembered you then.
brown hair and light eyes,
you should know that i never remember
the color of people’s eyes.
you are tall and beautiful and spelled my sister’s name
and swayed my entire body with that breathtaking voice
an enchantress, i was bound,
my heart fluttered.
you shouldn’t have had to change your name
because they couldn’t say it
because they don’t know that it means “bright.”

ELIZABETHAN SONNET # 1 (sonnet shop)edit 1

I set myself to write a sonnet now
a style which gives me headaches, starts and fits
and turns my thinning hair more scant and gray
I might as well try growing perky tits

Bare brow now furrows on my old head
to join the other wrinkles living there
and eyes now squint with queasy sense of dread
this page remains, yet, pristine white and bare

I think and count and count and think some more
I pick up a Webster's worn and torn
my temple throbs just like it has before
in darkness on this rainy winter morn

the world

the world took a lot
the stars
heaven
earth
the sun
the moon

it was close
the atmosphere
the words
lies
love
trust
reality

it came to be the best
humans made it
call it man made
the satellite
the food
the cars
mostly by men

the world came in with it
all the glory
at a certain time
love was lust

feelings
hate
fate

anger
stranger
afraid to be us

take the world down
to a better place

Cages

Are the wealthy truly free?
They live in luxury
envied by many
in their arrogance forgetting
that Man are all equals in the eyes of God

They mingle amongst themselves
parading and boasting their material wealth
while outside, people suffer
from the grip of poverty and disease

Their pride in their gold and silver misplaced
by their inability to be more humane.
Their smiles and laughter hollow
lacking in sincerity, they don't know
what ails the restlessness inside.

Decision Bell

The winds have left us, here in a lull,
that makes the native ghosts audible
in their groans

There is an office, aloof somewhere
shaking hands, with barely
tactile strength to hold the promised pen

Less sway, in the hurricane corridor of power,
they decide today-
which manipulated, manicured monsters

Will tend to our flocking fears,
which charcoal suit, the colour of burnt gum
will leave us in the paling townships

KRIMSOM

happy fall
my long walk
across
rail yard bridge
uptown
somewhere
headed
the cars on the
tracks as small
as the ones
passing
large and
swift on
the blacktop

crisp air cool
with its sheen
white birds
cutting the sky
white clouds
so clean

Step from the
buildingside
with style
dyed dark
cropped hair
with your best
drop dead
little voice
asking for
a smoke

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