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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.

 

E L L E ME N S H U N N E D

A fire broke out in her bones in her soul
and glittered like the black wall coal
diamond hard, the family traits
inherited her fathers hate

Riding in the old oak growth a saddle
supple her youth so bold
an old service revolver her skill
fast..a steady hold

Long tresses of midnight would fly in haste
"that girl's tainted" said those of the faith
but none would spare their pointed tongues
they'd seen the work with knife and gun

Telekinetic Torment

With a click off thumb and middle,
Skin Separates from skin,
Suspended in space and time,
Equal sections, spread equal distance.
There are radiant green shards of light and energy,
Echoing and surging through the gaping hollows.
Atoms divide and become rival.
Chromosomes sever and revolt.
The human fabric is exposed and scrutinised.
...euphoria.
Then with blunt, undisguised melody,
Another thunderous snap,
And the peices jolt back into slumped composition,
And all that remains is agony.

a version of life

Yul Bryner hath rightly said
''man is born... lives and dies alone...''

I add on
then why moan?

we all are alone
born and die
in many a similar way
some live long to see others go
some die ere even others know

today as everyday
I read obituaries
some one of 1917 born is still not dying
another of 68 went passed by
even your gods don't know why

Oh! Those First Glorious Days Of Conquest

I have come to colonize in the name of, oh! what's the difference
I'm here now, so it's
my way or the highway
oh! that's right, you have no highways, no roads at all
unless a goat path counts,
which it doesn't,
because I define all things from now on,
and a goat path is definitely not a highway.
sobeit.

MIDNIGHT PLOW

The furnace hot breath blows
the little family sleeps
while outside the roil of snow
snakes its strength
past the trees and posts
etching with cold
this resolute beauty fast

Throw on an old familar jacket
worn tattered
and shoes with a torn lace
a collar patched on to thwart
the winter
no hip name brand
keeps me warm
mitts on each hand

this lighter burns alive
the stub and I marvel
at how life goes on

and near but unseen
the Winter Plow like
a beast thunders past

GENESIS

GENESIS

I cannot stop the sun from setting
and the day from ending,
I cannot stop the world from turning
and Time from flying by.
We are creatures subject to greater forces,
faulted individuals, imperfect and insignificant
in the Grand Scheme of Creation...
And we all suffer from the same malady
that brings us through the same journey
and the same end.
We are born to die and pay a harsh price
in pain and suffering for the Life
we are given.
That is the Grand Mystery
cruel and unforgiving,

Complex Texture

I hear the sound of crumbling bone

The vultures breath is warm however laboured

It's thoughts are tunnelled... savage.

Feinding, forlorn and floating.

The blurring smell of blood and innocence,

A blinding sense of disorder.

Who knows better the sensation of nature?

Not I,

For I am ecstatically preoccupied.

thera putic

computer lah land
where is the sanity
when the mutiny
tries
nece pas

Wheelchair Man

As I ride
I want to take you
to the far side
though me and you
stayed in the same place
looking for my fortune
let me grew out of touch
aint flashed a smile
for a long while
to concerned of how
I gonna provide for my family
my thoughts takes me back
of who can I trust in this cold world
as I roll I grew of a strong will
rolling uphill I battle on
even though it’s a long month
I tag along
it’s the last day now
it shouldn’t be long now
before I can smiles

The Nine Muses

Calliope
A long story to write of you,
An Epic will that do
On many tablets as in days of old
This is how your story is told

Clio
Of times past you tell
Of battles won, and times of hell
Rest a while let your scrolls foresee
A calming image, for you and me.

Erato
Sing lyric's softley to me please
A beauty toned from your lyre to tease
Play to me in dreams, stories of old
Tales from the Greeks so I'm told.

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