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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: Main Thread.

Section One
Victoria is Queen in London Town.
The Empress rules it all with velvet hands.
‘Tis eighteen eighty eight, the city’s brown
with coal and cholera that vex the land.
But down on Fleet Street starts a tale of woe.
Her Highness will learn nothing ‘til too late.
For Secretary Fitzroy’s caught a blow
delivered of a monster’s razor hate.

A Study in Pink ( Section Two)

It's late, yet none could fall asleep
while Mog the monster's free somewhere.
Mystery wraps, the demons weep,
and rain won't wash what has to scare.
No footprints, or bullets are found,
it's Mog for sure, again they face.
the bobbies desperate, they are drowned,
confusion seems would close this case.

Dream of a droplet

I dream to be
a tiny drop in the Sea,
only then would I
fathom the depths of its emotions,
feel its turmoil
pulsating in tides,
as they ebb and flow
in relentless toil.

Yes, I crave to be
that tiny drop in the sea,
swirling in the salts
a million rivers bleed,
seeking salvation
beneath the awning
of celestial skies, cleansing
in His divine light.

Stradasocilliaus

of depth and silk like
work
the twitch of eye
alight like a ray
the beam that reaches
down from the heights
and smudges in its
dirt the knowledge
swept
away by the rains
driving us down

the omnipotent rage
and rush
the push of light
and the break of
sound
smashing us into
startled fear
while others
stood calmly
waiting round

Magic

Magic

Softer than a morning breeze
her lips caress my cheek
the scent of her so full and near
leaves me warm and weak

silken hair like summer rain
cascades around her face
eyes bluer than a bright lagoon
yet deep as distant space

Because I can

If god could do anything he would,
if he does do anything he's a cunt.
A worthless,
evil,
useless,
outdated,
divisive
piece of shit.

A Study in Pink (section one)

Victoria is Queen in London Town.
The Empress rules it all with velvet hands.
‘Tis eighteen eighty eight, the city’s brown
with coal and cholera that vex the land.
But down on Fleet Street starts a tale of woe.
Her Highness will learn nothing ‘til too late.
For Secretary Fitzroy’s caught a blow
delivered of a monster’s razor hate.

omi o loota o[water has no enemy]

ko ko konga- for drums rumbling on
perhaps not the flower frowns at rampage
settled in controversy among its height advantage
em-bulging in the circus of a ring rose
fourth to the finger that weds a man
duple and doomsday riotous for trepidation.
valley for yon settlement riverine, worms
maggots and kindling fuel blazing emissions
contestants for wriggle and variety valour ,
open in the gaze, ponder in the laze
by itself originality was fair share
that was not floating dead and drowned

Just Another Fucking Poem About The Rain

You left me standing there
with only hands to fill my pockets.
I was hurt and in pain
as I turned to ponder my regrets.
And if you were to say
you chose well when you didn't choose me,
I would have to agree.
I turned out just like you thought I'd be.
A little thin on top,
a little thick around the middle,
the toilet seat is up,
and I still can't play second fiddle.
But those things were minor
when you spat those nasty words at me.
I couldn't be the man

mine thou art.... art thou not final edit by Ian

Yeah! Thou hast the heart of a reindeer
taking part, ere the lioness ensures that it does depart
With his better part and upon the paws does surrender
To be eaten by the lion as tender

Then you will enlighten the world
with soft skin so tender
Then all will stand asunder where art thou
Who hath made the blunder to unveil thee all over

I still wonder, who art thou in the doldrums of time
a gold mine or a glass of wine
a divine integration of the flowing river Rhine
but for everlasting time

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