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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.

 

of lovers

Love is sublime
keep awake and enjoy
whilst there is time
and youth’s fragrance
does beseech love
lovers seek day in day out
no rest!

then as the bottle bursts
times become worst
and age catches on
when balls become empty now

then sleep all the time
think of the kisses stolen
and spills happen
as time becomes old too
and to kick the bucket about are you

Fraudulence

silence. absence.
no one will speak, and no one will step up
and either way we are hungry.
hungry for food, but what does that matter
when the hunger for solace is greater?

when paper becomes water
and your family starts to drown
you start to think about the bigger picture.
the bigger school. if you'll ever get there.

you wonder what good your paycheck will do
in your own bank account
and you wonder what you can really give.

Girls Fun Poems

My girl with the dreadlock hair
Her nose was spaced out,
I called it a snout
No one else would ever dare.
My eyes had a killing glare

The rest of her was a shame
It was all the same
Spaced out and spirit free
I said to my mate I'm going to be late
She's just my cup of tea.

He laughed out loud
This seemed to gather a crowd
They laughed too
When he told them of me
A cup of what, more like spaghetti.

Workshop: 

Muddled fairy tales "For Humour Workshop"

Little red Riding hood
She is as cross as ten snakes.
Some tool wielding dwarfs,
Dug up her Grans garden
Even broke the gate.

They gave a short story
They were looking for Diamonds.
She gave them an apple each.
That went straight to their heads
Put head to toe in her small bed.

She snuggled up in the big bed.
There falling to sleep.
Later she was awoken.
Standing there were three bears,
Complaining that it wasn’t fair
She was in the wrong story that was clear.

Workshop: 

Rapunzel tried on the glass slipper
brought her by Baby Roo,
monitored closely by Badger,
whilst the Wind in the Willows blew.

The Emperor had on his new clothes,
ready to marry the one the shoe fit,
unaware that, from head to toes,
he was as bare as a closely shaved armpit.

But she cared not a wit, gave a squeak
of excitement - held in his thrall;
she was quite taken by his physique -
not an ugly duckling at all.

Workshop: 

Fairy Tale Mish Mash (Humor WS)

Little Bo Peep lost her sheep
When he fell down the rabbit hole.
Quickly she followed, landing in heap.
Squashing the caterpillar and a mole.

The sheep looked up and went back to smoking.
Bo Peep was in shock as Alice approached, waving her hand.
There's only room for one down here, she took a drag, nearly choking.
Then kicked Bo's ass back up the hole to Fairy Tale Land.

Workshop: 

Lunatic Fringe

Lunatic Fringe

I trip the light facetious
in purple suede with fringe
to mortify conservative elite
were I more ambitious,
this skit would be a binge,
and my vengeance all the more complete

An Oldie of Spring

“As you Grow”

The valley grew silent, amidst darkened soil
Just under the surface was complete turmoil
Pushing aside the soil of cold times gone by
A blade shaped leaf just for you and I

The green blade darkened in piercing the day
It feared to spoil the remains of coal dust decay
Then to show the world how wrong they had been
It sent a perfect stem through the blades of green

H U R R Y K A N E

There goes the dish in a wrenching cry
no porn
no shopping
no channels
now
blown in the gusher
the sceech of wind
howling
with her hair
billowing flat out
in the wind

shes an animal
pulling down
the rooves of the
town
drowning
the lonesome
strays
in midnight grey
she's matting
down wiping
ground
free
fresh
destruction
born of the
Gulf
with wanton
spree

the world beckons who first ,

the world beckons who first ,
none know

who will have the first cup
you, i or Joe
tis all unknown

but the fact that i have an eagles eye
and a monsters fastidious brain
can't be just let go down any drain
in stream all my works shall remain

let our grandchildren read the same
and like Jess ,
hopefully they will not call us insane
as jokers amongst poets
we leave by the bye lane
let us as Neopoets
till then remain

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