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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.

 

Soliloquy for Ian

Loved or lovedly....

I have stopped posting here
having taken a sabbatical
entered another domain
where busy I remain
now breathless

Neopoet doesn't need me
I have learned a lot happily
so let me be me
and Ian all my love for thee
you are the only one who held my hand
all these three and one half years

a soliloquy for you

Oh! My friend
philosopher
and guide
stay alongside
let no colour of skin differentiate you and me
I have the same with- in

A Night Of Folly

Loud voices filled the air
as exuberant youths spoke.
One drove the car at full speed,
breaking rules of traffic,
showing off his skills,
Seeking the thrill
felt in the movies
was his wish.

A reckless moment
carved by the speed demon,
caused life to screech to a halt
and blood splattered
like a messy art.

Then the silence settled in
where the car has crashed off road
and souls wept over young bodies,
completing a night of folly.

A Note To Loved

I shall write a little for you to peruse,
As I see my hands flitting slowly across the keys.
My skin I notice is a whitish brown,
Due to the suns rays that fall around.

This brings thoughts to me and makes me frown,
Why is it only the skin we sometimes see.
You know that every man should be colour free.
Yesterday I scratched my hand and out from beneath ran
A flow of red and I thought again
That everyone is just the same.

THE PESSIMIST

Pessimistic. Referendum 2014 - SCOTLAND

One more day, the Runes are cast.
One more day, then peace, at last.
Which politicians told most lies?
I doubt we’ll ever know.
But who would curb my Scotland’s rise
Had best lie low.

Freedom is our Northern light,
It brings a luminescence bright.
Some comfort in the autumn’s chill,
As leaves are slowly turning.
We must accept the voters’ will,
Yet feel the salt tears burning.

The act of walking (a prose poem in parts)

The act of walking.

1. Barrack and Melville Street

Buoyant and flinging off the clinging vestments of town, heart pounding and now top head throbbing bobbing up the hill burning thighs afire, forced to wait at traffic lights, then still, then onward past that place -hello gorgeous and breathing so heavy that it betrays a death rattle, the battle of wounded lung, spun phlegm and coughing up he goes, panting and palpitating - bugger the top too far.Near as damn it as near as I'll get.

l o v e..b y ..f l a g r e n t .. s u i c i d e ..

tried these violent needs
anticipation of affect
the rage the dark
that raises like the voices

deep into waves of great anticipation
the voice murmurs
catch words throttled out
choked on dryness
and trembling legs
the twitching middle

the hitching heart
swollen
in tides
while shadows
of sun on the edge
stray ribbons of
motion
across the white
sand madness

reconcile a want
so wide
like a dance
that soothes
from inside

necro neon[auschwitz alpha-zed]

ashbrook stroll the wars go out blood less
only to conceal blood haberdasher
dressed with negro catacombs. Niagara cataracts
the executioner slashes one limb dribble
sells it to the trader necro
our future child's postmortem
opium mothers are glad they came tame.
financial starvation as a weapon
like defacto and dejure abrasions
first said watch-dog eradicating concern
parliamentary trial DE-riquor echelons
slums deter tether mead's
giving amputee's a new lease of legs

THE SUPER BREED

Every evening
I love to relax
glass of whiskey
in hand
in front of the TV

It gives me great
pleasure
to watch Arnab Goswami
tearing into
corrupt politicians
asking them tough questions
which
sends them into
into a mad spiral

No answers
are to be expected
only prevarication, lies,
deceit and denial

Ghosts...

There must be ghosts in our house!
First, I saw an old man in our bathroom
this morning.
Then my wife thought she saw some frumpy old
hag in the bedroom!

I went to look for her ghost and she went
to look for mine. I saw the old man in her bedroom
and she saw the old woman in the bathroom!

There seems to be something strange going on!

We decided that someone must be playing tricks on us.

NANA

Can she just live forever. She's my best friend. You're not allowed to take her. She has to watch Dani grow up like she watched Trinity and I grow up. She needs to spoil Dani like she spoiled us. She needs to rub Danis face as she lays in bed with her at night. She needs to watch her grow up. She needs to see Trinity, Dani and I grow into beautiful women. She needs to get better. I love you with all my heart Nana. Kayla Marie

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