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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.

 

A Demonic or..True Democratic Rant....

A Demonic or
True Democratic Rant…..

Democracy a myth
scratched on deceit,
religion controlling
wheels of our minds.
As children they bring
us up to greet,
false gods, totems,
or a cross of kinds.

Pretending that
we have a chance,
to reach the
cookie jar of truth.
Regaling us with stories
of romance,
images dropped from
a photo booth.

I Am Pausing My Cultural Exam To Tell You

the snow is falling softly behind the tree in the window
and you could easily guess what I think about now
it's always the same.
yes, she would like this. curled up on the couch with me.
I keep saying that I want to know
I want to know when I won't think these things anymore.
but I will leave it at that for today.
for today, I want you to know
that I know I was stupid.
I want you to know that I will stop listening to little birds
and my angry heart.
I think you know that for me, at least

Aching Stone

darkly filled
abrasive edge
cloaked in shadow
a lacy web

spidery fingers
cold of touch
holding tight
needy
for love

craving
yet raising
and waving a shield
deflecting
denying
all who would kneel

for history's fist
retains its grip

and a heart
once broken
becomes
such as this

What

I stared at the darkness
It enveloped my thoughts
To hell with this,
came to my mind
I switched the light on
Now I am delighted
Which seems to be
a contradiction??

G r o u n d d o w n

sparks we shone
brilliant
drawing heads
and doubts

throughout the jealousies
and envious hooks
we stole the pages
of each's book

sharpening like a skill
this trade
we flattened and dulled
the tempered
haze

Its winter now
fulfilled
and late
we throw the walls
kick stones
in spate

how we crowned
the victories
being first
drawing further
lost
further tossed
till we
are lastly

lost

If you follow The Creek, from The Pond, to the west,
turn north once you’ve reached the Top Paddock,
by the Mallee-Shrub Maze, you will reach a small crest
(near the home of the kind Sylvi-Rabbits)....

In The Maze, just last weekend, they all had a party
(it developed to a loud, wild affair)
for Will Willy-Wag-Tail's very first birthday.
Everyone knows him as Billy-Do-Dare.

Shut Your Mouth Girl

I'm on a fiery warpath
I'm done with you talking smack
you think you got me duped,
but your butt’s about to catch a boot.

Take your rug-rats
and pack your bags.
find your own house
before I go in your mouth.

I maybe half blind
and feeling bad half the time,
but, I'll be dang gone dead
before I let you take my head.

Telling your lies to everybody you choose
won’t get me to step back my shoes
nor will I take back the harsh words
I said, you blatant, disrespectful girl.

Hopeless Romantics

We were so young
with our bellies full of naivety.
We scorned the sun
that cast shadows on our fragility.
We rode the wind
and never left room for any doubt.
We fought with time
like it was never going to run out.

But we were young
and love was still a lesson to be learned.
How could we know
that we died a little as the world turned?
We were anxious
and in a hurry for life to begin.
No one told us
that we would never feel this way again.

silver sands

I cried a flood of fragile, perfect rainbows
that washed through childhoods’ simple, silver sands
so grains of unformed innocent not-knows
were scarred with dull, unlovely coloured bands

I wept for past naivety, now stained
with mortal ken - apocalyptic knowledge
that I’d forever be bereavement-maimed
my silver sands were gone; destroyed - my courage

Big john

Big john…

I met a man called big john B,
he had a strange affect on me.
We were stood on the edge of
the Mississippi, near it’s end
a mile from the sea.

The affect he had was to free my thought,
to dream of things I thought I’d forgot
Taking me closer to that which I sought,
away from the fears and worries I’d fought.

Travelling we were from here to there,
never quite knowing the days end.
We took each new road without a care,
I’d never again find a closer friend.

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