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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.

 

Life has never been
for me a piece of cake,
nor for all the homeless
in the Victorian age.
Working in the coal mines
for almost the whole day
which has been my cell; a hell.
I thought that poverty's
the real monster; a Mog
that Victoria the queen
never heard of afore.
We've been ganging every night
looking for the next prey, together
with Mog, and the heartless Anable.
There we left many slain- headless
(those who have always been
a body without a soul.)

The Courtroom

Here, the drama unfolds on a stage
where the judge, the panels of juries,
the lawyers and the accused
are actors, seen and heard
to deliver justice as they see fit
in accordance to the law

Voices have been raised to attract attention
the battles are fought with wits, words and actions
bold lawyers trying to put their points across
with the display of evidence and clever talks
laying entrapments in questions
hoping to appeal to the judges' and juries' favour

Flower Power

It is sickening to be sick again,
Pain turning life insane.
The gains feeling thirty once more
Lasts but a mayfly's gaze.

Penning stories of murder, horror
Thrills and soars the power
To feed the latent talent
With flowers that cover defeat.

Tomorrow is another day
Tonight is there to view.
The flowers' power refreshes the soul,
My youthful thirties bloom.

A STUDY IN PINK 28 DESTRUCTION AND SALVATION

As the fire from Macwill hotel spreads,
shouts and screams filled the air
the people of London strived to save the city,
while he enters John Creel's hotel to confront his enemy.

Armed with a knife, John Creel moved with great speed
Macwill saw the man's eyes turned red but he felt no fear
even when his wounds started to bleed aplenty
he died and Mog left John Creel's body.

A Study In Pink: Anabel's Story

NOTE: Before you begin reading, I need you to put yourself inside the mind of Anabel. Imagine the unremorseful, sing song voice of a killer who is telling their story, reliving their crimes as if it were yesterday and getting pleasure from it. Imagine the twisted smile, the psychotic laugh. Note that this is written in the third person, even though he/she is telling the story. Keep in mind that Anabel is a psychopath, so she is not speaking in perfect structure or form.

With Fair Crossed Eyes

wrong
or
right
desire prevails
in facts
at night
lusting
love
acceptance
equality
growth
---oOo---
capable us
terrible us
sociopathic
narcissistic
twisting
judging
presiding
apart
---oOo---
lines of truth
move
subjectively
under
desires duress

Ruins

Where untold stories breathe within
the fractured faults of rumbling walls;
where muted spirits mime
an Opera of yore;
sculpted along the rocky terrain
of the venerated edifice
crumbling in sunshine, rain and hail
more alive than dead.

L A S H E R A X H U N

the worn warm leather
clasps a dryer tired shirt
with frayed collar
and dog chewed legs
of denim hauled across
the boney haul
of journeys
tested and bested
and forgotten

Worn buttons
like ragged hair
and finger smudged
glasses

STARLIGHT

STARLIGHT

Streams of silver sparkle
in a moonlit sky.
The darkness wraps itself
around me like a blanket
on a cold Winter's night.
My soul is at peace
and I am safe
from another day.
I can dream and feel
no pain.

.

Antifib

Real eyes
realise
real lies

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