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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.

 

Fearing Death

Death left a void
and filled it with ingredients of sadness,
the tears of a mourning mother,
the ceasing of joy and laughter,
the calmness forsaken in the moment,
as the air greets respectful silence,
one last goodbye denied,
in the sudden end of lite.

Yet the worst I fear
is to be a memory,
buried underground.

While my legacy of love,
peeled away from beating hearts

Permanent Solution

(to Claire - trust works both ways)

You offered me pennies for my thoughts.
Are they even worth that much? Are they worth a thing at all?!
Why is this even a question? I did not accept.
I could not accept. I pay you for my words.
That is the game we play,
like children bouncing balls off checkered squares on rounded walls.
At times we miss. At times they strike us.
It hurts. It doesn't hurt.
Yes,
It hurts a lot.
I came to you to protect my words
and still I am hurting.

I linger
lovingly
on each bead

Nothing between
the bead and touch
No time, no space
no contamination
no taint

The delicate membrane
which separates
turns into thin blue
smoke
and disappears

At the confluence
of space and time
journey and arrival
I imbibe the essence
of being and becoming

Pillow talk

as she slumbers in her sleep
she mumbles
come home tonight
tis so dark
but he in some
Pillow talk on ones
else's arms
does naked stalk
can't walk
dead drunk,
my is he,

how he wishes
he was with thee

your poetry is not only lovely
tis sexy
says romantic poet
in me
so be happy!
.

vast endless brave

you the heart that never dove
but rose upon the winds you strove
your airy laugh and dark storm face
the fancy airs
your pretty lace

how you chose and chose
the wary dark
you fought to tame
carve in your name
on the hearty bark
with your sharpened wit
and hasty lark

the lashes dark
and vintage hue
the iris pools
whose gaze you parked

i'm in the crowds
and on the roll
my bitterness
extravagant and droll

Chill of September

Chill of September
Fall approaches
The north winds rolls in
As the fair comes to town.

Children ride merry go rounds
Tiny women sits behind a curtain
Carnival music and food doubles in price.

Police descends on the crowd
Carefully watching for agitators
Hired to maintain order.

The youth fight
Gets thrown in jail
Moms standing at the gate
Hoping it's not her child.

As moms take their children by the hand
Others get a call to pick them up at the precinct.

SENRYU

fissured dawn
tributaries of fire
delta in the sky

Don't cry babe

This is a beautiful
crying piece....
it has taken away
all her peace....

she alone is to blame...
but both have a partial game....
they dwelt in some others arms...
Oh what a shame-----

man can enjoy any number of women...
but can't tolerate another one...
eying his woman.....

now they both must keep
secret liaisons aside.....
and
with a firm mind decide.....
they will not go for another ride...

beside or side by side....
they alone can
over this decision preside...

Me in Me

Why does the evening hurt so,
is it when you are not here?
Let me open my own mind.
Drop off my window sill,
let me see that land below.

I dribbled the words as I saw you fall,
it was all pretence, though felt real.
Where to next my imagination?
Will you guide me to places?
Get hold of your thoughts in there.

You loved her so, that you shivered,
then you had to leave her there.
Why imagine when it’s real.
Let me regain my ways for a while,
they have been lost without your smile.

naked hands

wont you die
for the partition of such gynecologic
Inuits and kraal as a Newfoundland
on a dog night afternoon eating mangetout
nakedness overwhelms all relent
consent and content. In tent
the nurses are a bridal infantry
cheer leaders to the chair ring-leaders
feasting less on drear satisfaction
than the game for swollen heads
for gloss was a crossfire
typhoon in pigment hemophilia

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