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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.

 

sun is my god and our god

sun is my god and our god

can you imagine
anything born without the sun

nothing

so god is manifest
in SUN only
that only time can tell
but when I discourse with normal
intelligent humans
I don't discuss religion

' tis ones faith and belief
let them in themselves
find a relief

who am I to over shadow the heavens
and imagine a sky without a sun

then there will be
NO
HUMANS ...
ANIMALS
AND
PLANTS

NONE

EARTH WILL BE BARREN

Beyond the stars

we still see
hoping to find the God
who blesses and relieves

but where to find
such a universal being
overseeing all human
Now its 7.5 billions

can he count em?

P A R A M I N T Z I A

pressed fortune
in the black oil of night
halogen feeler
ignites along the
sleeping stores
slips over cars
and fences
a living ghost of light
and everyone ducks
and freezes not breathing

some of us in the tardark
protection
some of us lumped
as abstract
heads tucked like geese
feeling like sheep
in the camo urban
fleece of everyone

Sinister Mistress

across from me she sits
choking a butt
in her steady manicured fingers
we exchange what could have been
glances of amusement or a study for observable regret
"He really deserved it, I wonder why I waited so long."
That was the first thing she said
after a whole hour in silence
" I am so stoked you were there with me."
She snuffed out her cigerette as if to puncuate herself
"Ah, the look on the slobs face."
some how all my confusion and nausea
faded with her exhale that settled into a
sinister smile...

MEN AND RIVERS

There are rivers for each stage of life
as well as for 'most every mood.
Some run wild and full of strife
while others seem to slowly brood.

Like us, they start with two joined parts
love for us and streams for them.
Both begin with fits and starts
as if their birth were a mere whim.

The rivers of my heart and home
spring from Blue Ridge mountain hollows
where they laugh and rush with foam,
their pools dimpled by evening swallows.

when you are gone....

will you love to see me crying
tears rolling daily
and all relatives weeping
along with me

will you feel happy
beyond the silent clouds
as you see your spouse
draped in white and black

will you like to see a
widow staring out of a window
and just waiting for the Sunday
that should also take her away

no I know you wouldn't like it that way
so I will spend a simple day
maybe a week
to enjoy the hours we shared together daily

the temporary poet

when I compose
I have none in mind
I enter the one I am reading
and you think its me

that's the whole beauty
of an actor of poetry

you should not let any one know
who or what lies between
you and mystery

tis your self ordained destiny
some one
say some one
will think of me
who am I
certainly not me!
tis the one who resided
in me temporarily.....

f u l f i l m e n d

stilted
whorl
dark as starlings
lean tiny against
the giant days
the gaunt bed
with its night remains
the television dream
stains

copulations of stars
like grams fired
the water rising
in a gurgling world
overflowing capacities
lull
crawling like silver
flesh in the shaded
contours of carpet
the waxed nicotine
yawl of time
scratched like a trapped
pack
menthols from the
sunshades pack

A drawing in black ink

In morning I was shown
The character of myself
A drawing
In black ink

Some lines in bold
Like consciously
Left trails

And a proper shadow
Of a thick frame
Resulting
From light

Writing Poetry and of Poets

I will write of the gems I have held
Some in my mind others in my heart
Yet they are held with a love so pure
A thought that will fill eternity’s hold

They are a band of poets striving away
They are from all places with all thoughts
Here they play with words in tidy rows
Though we must take each word carefully

When you talk of their words talk with calm
Be gentle with their lives as they burden you
Think of all they have been through or why
They come to us each day poetry to unfold

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