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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 VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALL S C O R P I O ' S

Beautiful November scenario
just the right time
as autumn still seeps in
and the sexy Scorpio permits
the winter storm to be ready in
to her warmth
to get steady
as most of the day the night
we have to stay indoors
active and bright....

a sexy Scorpio
must always be kept in sight
the warmth is needed alright
with a Scorpio
be kind and bright
don't ever fight
sex okay
twill is about just right...
with a Scorp never ever say you are right
twill is no delight...

Eye for an Eye. (Serious Limerick WS)

Guns keep booming with no end in sight
bombs keep dropping with all the might
war being fought, tooth and nail
bleeding bodies leaving a trail
no glimmer of light, this fateful night

Two Limericks (limerick workshop)

Li -li -limericks are filled with wild words
that most good old folk never heards.
They make it their pride
to keep them inside
and not trail along 'hind the herds.

A Limerick is not but a fable,
produced by small men hardly able
to give a good rhyme,
a cent or the time
or I've fallen out of me cradle.

Lilith

Lilith

Succulent kisses occurring at dusk
from lips that give birth to desire
seductive, warm whispers that murmur and coo
fueling the flames of the fire

soft, silken fingers that tickle and tease
fondling what is in fashion
emerald eyes staring boldly at yours
awakening slumbering passion

Be Yourself.. Serious Limericks WS

Look not to my old fashioned way
That reflect faults that would haunt your day.
You've a brain to use
A world to peruse
Just be aware of what I say

A Fast Food Day

Regulars lined up for a
caffeine transfusion and an
egg McSomething or other.
With the new breakfast of champions
in hand they’re ready for another
day in the neighborhood.

Back at noon along with some new faces
for a double what ever I had yesterday.
Did you want fries with that?
And none of it is fast or cheap.
They don’t call them the
golden arches for nothing.

THE PIPER

Come follow me! Come follow me!
I'll be sure to not leave you behind
for I myself walk haltingly.
Time, to me, has been unkind.

Let me reveal what most don't see
in the bustle of their life,
the large as well as the tiny
which both can mitigate life's strife.

There are many things in forest's deep
which are living metaphors
which insinuate like a small seep
once we exit our mundane doors.

Last Cigarette

It was sexy and alluring, daintily tucked between her fingers
the paper slowly charring away to the naked glow of tobacco
the smoke rising in a perfectly random pattern
there was nothing more I wanted at the time
to feel that heat on my lips like a long slow kiss
the energy swirling deep in my lungs
the racing of the buzz about my head
I remembered that first drag with a longing fondness
and then I recalled the last puff coughing out of my mouth
and the stink of my clothes came racing back

too late tonight ....edit by a friend

All rivers flow from North to South
except the Mississippi which flows from East to west.
As does the hands of a man sailing over human breast,
so they then follow the normal flow from top to toe.

As all rivers naturally flow.

Sigh, they heave like the Nile,
the Brahmaputra the moving oceans to sense;
and tease then ease every commotion.

Soon these rivers will merge and submerge
with the real vast ocean and human sighs
will fall and satisfy in solutions.

Night of Fright...

The pad of small feet, approached from behind
he stood and thought silent, lost in his mind

Small, trembling fingers clutched the cloth of his sleeve
Caught unaware, replete in his grief

A little, white figure dressed in a sheet
the very last thing he expected to meet

Silver-blue ribbons in the black sky
revealed a sad face, to his unblinking eye

“Please sir, please help me, I've lost my way home”
“My friends have all left me, left me to roam”

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