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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 STUDY IN PINK SECTION 21

What a night! Riding off with Urilla's body
Beneath a blood drenched sky!
The demon was upon us or so they thought
Imaginations really played their part!

They never knew it was me, too busy worrying about my sexuality.
Back home, I was James Alastair, beloved detective and friend
When the bodies showed up, the Headless Horseman was born
Investigating my own crime scenes.
I was the one, feared almost as much as the Ripper himself.

A Study in Pink Storytelling (section Twenty)

Now anyone in London could be a Mog,
and everyone is a suspect,
even Urilla the pretty detective
by Mog now is fully possessed.

Mackwill thought "I must use Arnold."

"I'll give you whatever you want
if you admit that you had Flitz killed."
"detective Urilla wants a proof", Mackwill said,
you give it to her and I'll make you rich"
or your turn will be coming soon.

this tree!

We, all trees of life

Plants bear we devour
animals kill and also flower
humans alone eat and devour
each other hour by hour

no one will leave
ere the grave
so to face critique be brave

The sun has never set they say
why then we ourselves
should we betray

we are those trees
which alone seed
the genes have become immortal
notwithstanding which tree

there is no soul
there are no spirits
it's only your attitude still
which does not yet you still!

WHEN DAWN BREAKS

WHEN DAWN BREAKS

I sit by my front door
open to the coming morning
and the silence of the dawn
soothes my troubled soul.
I wallow in my own mystery
alone in this semi-darkness
until daylight strikes
to reveal the world that
has isolated me from itself
and all joys of living.

A Study in Pink: Section Nineteen

From section one
Victoria is Queen in London Town.
The Empress rules it all with velvet hands.

From section two
while Mog the monster's free somewhere.
Mystery wraps, the demons weep,
confusion seems would close this case.

From section three
She began serving beer at the Blue Boy Tavern,
befriending an outcast,than an unknown stranger.
Friendships that would lead to nothing but danger.

THE LABYRINTH - First published in May 2009

Even in my most
conscious moment,
there’s part of me
that’s still asleep
Even in my most
joyous moment,
there’s part of me
that’s sorrowful
Even in my most
magnanimous moment,
there’s part of me
that’s still unkind
Even in my most
enlightened moment,
there’s part of me
that’s hard to find
Even in my highest
moment of confidence
there’s part of me
that’s still in doubt
Even in my highest
moment of clarity
there’s part of me
that’s still confused

The Moon Shiniest Bright

The full moon shiniest bright inside its double ringed circle
as I hoped to see the blood moon meteorologist talked about all week.
Sad to say I missed the moment so many gazed
with their telescopes and cameras.

I pulled back the white sheer curtain to see the moon
shining its soft shine into my dark room.
A brown curtain is all that keeps prying eyes from peeping
in the sliding glass door at midnight.

phaded roze

working
in the midst
our time
has shown
and charred
the scars
admired
and sown
by the suns
grasp

in the gapes
of the beds
where fall
was startled

the strands
were ruined
dotting
the dark

we claimed
we drove
the ghosts
and like
a driver
the winds
evaporated
everything

the beauty
an illusion
and winter
will sing
the thorns
i feel most

The Love
of nothing

another sad song fit for recent nightfall

and there was the sudden outpouring of cinders
creeping up my throat and wherever else they could escape
and smoldering still, I attempted to put them out myself
but too much salt will just feed this heat.

I remembered the taste of the tears I always tried to kiss away
and I can't tell what I miss about you
maybe it's more what I miss about myself.

I saw the telegraph, wow they got it all awry
poor Mackwill I ain’t sure did no wrong, should I feel sorry
there seems to be more of a conspiracy.
they have asked me to go into the darn Police
but they, big balls, haven't sent a comfy carriage for me
through my mist of wine I could have been a bit fuzzy
yes coach and horses, big guys numbered three, well maybe
yeah they threw a body out onto the bloody cobble
that night the mist never cleared, it may have had me wobble

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