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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.

 

"I see you"

We had just moved in to a new house
A place to live in a country far away
A pool and land for the children to play
Then a knock at the door one day

He stood there at my door
Gleaming smile and not quite sure
“I see you” he said to me
Hands palm out for me to see.

A man of the Zulu’s had come this day
To ask of me if he could stay
In a shed we had in the garden.
It had a bed there, I had forgotten

The Smitten Editor

my adjectives caressed her nouns
my adverbs followed her actions closely
and with a keen sense of direction,
my prepositions tracked and guided
her every placement and position
but, by her lackadaisical use of punctuation
I misread her meaning completely
now I am just another unreferenced pronoun
replaced by him , a dangling clause

Don’t Mind Me

if I spent my whole life dreaming
I wouldn’t hurt a soul
you can have your real world
and the bell for whom it tolls
fly the squareness of your blanket
from your stuck and steady pole
use the iron in your magnate
for the shoeing of your foal
you can push the evil button
and blow your erstwhile horn
your achievements are bereavements
golden medals made of corn

so batter down your hatches
and tear at things you’ve torn
make up things convincing
while I’m dancing with the faun

roses

smell the roses on the way
a saying often used
to encourage awareness of the day

amiable, perfumed petals
the aroma of harmony
the joys of living
captured within....
the bloom forever true

unfailing redolent bouquet
steadfastly soothing
... one can forget
lurking out of sight
there are prickles

and some seasons
the barb jags the finger

for each chance we take
a lesson is learned
while both flower and thorn
share the telling

Imperial Madman

Heirs of this dark earth,
You must wait for your due

None are yet certain
What Legacy holds

The bright and emboldened few
Own the truth, bound and trussed up with string

They hold it close to their chests, a privation of history,
A great and inglorious thing

So, what does Mother sing to you?
As you lie in the scarlet room

What promise, what hope, what lies beyond
The walls of the waiting womb?

The Promise

Pain grips my body,
forcing me to face
my own mortality

i will conquer it
until its sting fades
and I can rise again

Until then,
wait for me, dear friends
for I will return to you,
once again.

ABOUT CLOCKS

ABOUT CLOCKS

Tick tock
time marks the clock
each hour lives
and then it dies
the days slide
one into the other,

waiting for the shoe to drop
cannot stop
what is to be,
watch T.V. to stay away
from me.
violence . insanity
no hope for mankind.

Lonely in my own fear
the minutes hard to bear
terror strikes suddenly
can't shut off the mind
whirling out of control
memories that remind.
Mortality,

at his behest

HERE I COME AGAIN

You compose it on my behalf
and
I will stamp it fast

I only know you do read
and
only you remain agreed
that my poetry does breed
but alas as Jess says
legs up in the air
come and read me,
if you can't come in
at least cum....
he does mean
and
now he is our poetry chef,
I can't or dare not take liberties
ere he mixes chillies
and
rum in my wine
and cuisine

but so be it

DAWN OF THE NEW YEAR

I sit and shiver in the dark
awaiting this year's first new day
bathed in starlight cold and stark
as the old year quietly slips away
...My thoughts wander as I wait

The silence gives me room to brood
about the last year's fails and foibles
and the wrinkles I've accrued
from one more year's toils and troubles
...My breath fogs as I contemplate

Poor Old Mr Bandersnatch ( For Humor In Poetry workshop )

The frumious Bandersnatch,
so little understood
headed for his cottage
deep down in Tulgey wood,

Goldilocks went skipping by
and said to Bandersnatch,
“have you been out hunting
and bagged yourself a catch"?

The frumious Bandersnatch
ran on toward his house
as grumpy as a bear;
yet quicker than a mouse!

'twas then he called a lawyer
to moan about his case
telling him of slander
while tears ran down his face.

Workshop: 

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