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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.

 

Tree Fruitions...... revised twice thanks Judy

Tree Fruitions
Submitted by lovedly on Fri, 2015-01-16 16:58 ....Revised and REREVISED by Judy

I've heard it takes a tree
twenty years to bear quality fruit

I have taken five decades
and am still looking forward
to some juicy ones
yet a distance away
somewhere in the background
of a horizon far away

glad but I am
many still come my way
the fragrances of my love alone
sway many

and shall
for some time more
ere I pass

writer's block

They all heard the scream, ‘Someone’s murdered the butler
(or, if he’s not dead, he’s a really good actor.’)
So started my story, I just blindly wrote....
then fingers stopped moving, lump stuck in my throat
and stunned me to silence. The butler was dead;
slaughtered most foully alone in his bed.
Of such a weird crime, have ever you heard?

‘Tis the valet that’s seen as first suspect - absurd
that he be done in at the start of the show.
What now’s there to do, where can this tale go?

F O R M I K K A

Two worlds within walls
once large forboding
not lost like now

coffee from the jar
the hands shake
and no words
part air
soft curses
fear

no mentions

a television
throwing out the
mill of sound

a spoons clatter
in the sink
and the glow
of flourscent
from the kitchen
counter light

slept days
nights
waking
and back to
the depths
snow outside
the window
the wind
in the trees
like a dream

Snafoo (Sensitive New Age Fakes on Overdrive)

one metrosexual
and one real snag
standing on the corner
huffin’ on a fag
one says bitch
and the other says ho
blown is the cover
of the snag metro

I'm No Rebel....

I’m No Rebel

I’m no rebel I have no cause,
it’s just my pen and I against
archaic laws.
Written by ancients a thousand
years hence, these laws are trite,
Insignificant, make no common
sense.
Here we are in our world today
fast moving unjust, still
the same sorts in charge, greedy
fat pigs fit to bust.

Homeplace/Homer's Place (humor shop exercise 3)

Homeplace (original)

I came upon a house today
though most of it had gone away
and left behind its mossy bones
of listing piers and cracked hearthstones

So I took a pause for pondering
in midst of random woodland wandering
to think of those who once lived there
where none go now but deer and hare.

My gaze took in a lonesome hollow
and found that it was bound to follow
up its course to a clear spring
which issued from a small stone ring

Workshop: 

Me

There used to be a girl who's smile was real
She felt the way that you are supposed to feel
She was filled with happiness and no hatred
But soon the ugly feelings escalated
She no longer smiled or even tried
All that she could do was hurt and cry
She never wore a sweater
Except in inclement weather
She used the sharpener for pencils
It wasn't, then, her favorite utensil
I miss the way that beautiful girl used to be
I miss her so much because that girl...was me

Changing Times

Changing Times

Suitable placards are not to be found
carried by those who protest
Hippie and Flower Child far underground
no longer aiding the quest

militant factions now cry their demands
while terrorists lurk in the wings
neither are certain who really commands
but both have formidable stings

ample (serious limerick)

the world that we live in has ample to share
with plenty to eat, drink, sample and wear
but poor are still needy
‘cos people are greedy
oh shame, to be selfish with ample to spare

Let me tell you 'bout Mr. Face,
who dwells in the luxurious space.
He hasn't an eye, an ear, nor hair,
and lives though never breathed the air.

He's good friends in a very huge amount,
these are so many than any could count.
Because friendship is all that he'd care,
he'd travel to almost everywhere.

He lives on the thoughts yet he's anencephalic,
and always known for being abibliphobic.
along with him everyone would surf,
and yet he would never lose a nerve.

Workshop: 

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