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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.

 

sorry and retort a re-thought!

Fundamentals of life
are just two
for me and you

first

if you are wrong
simply say

sorry!

but if you are dead sure
you are right

fight!

retort
till things you sort...

remember these two
and be happy

let the Lord take care of after life
in which who still believe

you too
okay do!

take care
not to please!
me
loved...

Sweet Pea

There's nothing so pleasing
as sitting and easing
'neath a hazel weaved bower
covered in tendrils of sweet pea stems
that blossom with clusters of winged flower gems.

Relaxing and easing
just sitting and seizing
that touch of heavenly bliss
gorged with magenta or cyan blue
flecked with a carmine or ivory striped hue

It's nice to be seizing
that fragrant smell, teasing
my nosey perfume senses
with multi toned aroma filled shades
from rosy pastels, to violets and jades.

The life of a dead person [soliloquy]

All is pain
I've tried again and again
There are people who drag me into this life
I love and resent them

If I go it will hurt them
I am not unkind
So I persevere

Narcotics give me not the nods
not the itchy scratchies
just a sense of being normal

The solution?
Death seems best
though that would hurt people

Keep trying to find a way to live
without chronic insomnia
and continual pain

I know you can't answer

The birthday party ( part two edited for play Drama)

Grampy lives alone and is becoming angry at the visits from his close or so called close family
Grampy has reached his limit, with most of his family.
We will follow the day through his birthday till about a week later.
This happens in many families but not with an ending quite so abrupt.
Most times you watch the old person sink into an old folks home totally alone, it is hard to be old.
Let’s pop in and listen to Grampy’s thoughts for a while..

"Grampy's Birthday"

"Opening scene" Grampy in his sitting room,

p o t h a l l a

pivotal
this brush
against each other
the mirror knows our lies
a cabinet of thieves
like that finger of wind
through the vines

glitter and go
adjusting the bold
dusted black
cupping your breasts
your smooth spine
the valley of your back
how my hands
sooth the warmth
and strength
your weakness
to me exposed

we drive
the wheels
flashing
along the windows
the trees expressing
the light
like film
staggered like slashes

The Girl Who Didn't Exist: DRAMATIC VERSE WS

(In the early morning hours, Sasha emerges from her captor’s home/prison. This was several days after one of her alter-egos reared its ugly head and ended the immediate hell they were facing. She had spent those last few days in the house watching the body of her kidnapper rot in a mess of his own dried blood until she could take it no more. “Rescued” as an infant and held in a single locked room, with no one else around but herself and the old man who had taken her, this was her first exposure to the outside world.

Season Of The Bitch

Season Of The Bitch

Lethal accusations fly from twisted, feral lips
as once again the feces hits the fan
demons skulk in shadow as she places hands on hips
fearing what they cannot understand

eyes flash super-nova as the verbal maelstrom grows
searing soul and sanity with flame
estrogen erupts with words more virulent than blows
causing gods to cringe in mortal shame

Soliloquy An Unheard Voice

A Voice Unheard Dramatic verse

I missed you, my son
so far away from home
unable to see you, touch you
don't you know I did all this
for you?

why wouldn't you talk to me
when I called?
greet me with silence?

I want to hear your voice
telling me about your day
about your school, your friends,
Grandma, everything
there's no need for us to grow apart
I love you like no other

Our Song

If it were in my talents to write a song

the heart of its theme would be you

you are always reminding me

abstain from the melody,

concentrate on the lyrics

they carry your feelings

it is the words you say

you are always speaking to my heart

they do more than that

they have always captured my soul

i want a language in which

only you and I ever share

A play for the Dramatic Verse Workshop

What Men Hear, What Men Fear
(being an original tale of the epic poem
Ҫaҫo, Man of the Morning Star)

Cast of Characters
Lord General Amos Reid, a robust man of eighty nine
Marla, a lovely girl of twelve

(The cavernous highway deep beneath the River Lurien)

Pages

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