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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.

 

Gone With The Tip of A Knife

After being in pain for too long
I can now sing a song
gone with the tip of a knife
I will regain a life
this broken tooth will be gone.

Affliction

poetic soul
his phrases form a melody
they control
me
surrounding my presence
with his essence
and plunging into deepest parts of my being
His eyes speaking without pronouncing
a word
He contrives schemes to make me love him
We are love birds
He is my love limb
I'm hanging on to him
and his every syllable
Our saliva creates a binding chemical
Recollections of his kisses
Continuous passionate pawing,
He is my Mr. and I am his Mrs.
the closeness of his face

But How Do YOU Feel, Lovey?

what if i wrote about love
like it was still lovely

i could do that.

i sit and i watch them, and i'm happy. they're good,
they're alright. i'm actually happy.
in that secret presence no one else gets to see

it's strange to think you never liked this.
it's strange to think that you never saw me in that gentleness,
but
i guess you never did.

No Second Chance

Don't tell me you're sorry,
that I'm your man, not just a friend
I refused to repeat old history
and let you play your game again.

Did you forget how you insult me
after I caught you with another?
How you cursed and spat at me
and mock me with your laughter?

I used to feel sore, staring blankly at the door,
losing focus as memories haunt me,
my mind swollen with thoughts of blood and gore.
I want you dead for toying with me!

SILENT SONGS ( extremely rare title change)

A mute choir exits from my pen
and lands upon an empty page
where my verses all begin.
They lie there silently and age.

No voices join to sing them out
so they can't be remembered as a song
to be hummed or talked about
or even recalled for too long.

There is no accompanying scale
to guide the way it should be read
smoothing the rhythm of my tale.
The words alone supply it instead.

all smiles

I never miss a chance
to smile
nor do I trip
over smile poems

love to smile
my while
at young and old
gals and guys

they look into my eyes
and smile

that leaves
an everlasting image
in their eye
as my smiles
are ingrained in their eyes

so I smile at all passers by
at least they won't frown at me
but smile by

you do share your
love fully smile
for all what's yr worth while

The Dreamer

I am a dreamer:
I put pen to paper and will it to happen;
it never does...
it never proves me right...

Emotions cloud my judgement,
Forgiveness a second nature:
Only pain is returned
my reflection is of a girl covered dirt...

My heart is sucked dry,
every emotion gone.
i am the shell of the girl that used to be,
a girl wishing on a star

Narcoleptic Days

I'm so sleepy
my hands falling when I play games
my head bobbing when I read
I'm drowsy from all the medication in my system
sugar, glaucoma, heart, cholesterol, pain
is what's consumed on a daily
now Antibiotics to kill the infection
cycling my body for months and months
tomorrow that broken tooth comes out.

Nothing I do shakes
these narcoleptic days.

Monster

It used to be under the bed,
in the closet and in my head.
A harmless figment
of an imagination,
exaggerated by the mind
of a little child.

These days, it is real
it is what I feel,
the darkness residing inside.
In my heart, is where it hides,
waiting to be unleashed,
demanding to be released
in a moment of weakness
when I am helpless
it will strike like a viper,
the terrible monster

Homemade Life

seeking
happier
pastures

green
flowing
sappy
with hope

and soft
supple
nights where
world weary dreams
no longer
stomp
and demand;
the spell, broken
the strive, forsaken

rips and tears on my life map
had exposed a failing cynicism
(the hard, hip, city bred kind);
cracked
crumbling
debased;
every residual fragment
now swept
swirling
into the great
anywhere-but-here

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