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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.

 

item09

was there
hours drawn
in hot morality
an electric shunt
in mortal stunt
sheen of thigh
to knee brunt
applique
of pressure
not a brush
laid slow
like a torque
the gentle pace
to a pulsing
crush

caught eye
the sliver
luminescent
rush
through a dirty lens
like window thrust
astride the empty
clay lucidity
of the fall
autumn borne
stillness
crept impresario
down skin raised
like mesmers
magic a
skit of static

The Thrill Is Gone

For weeks I've been writing easily
but coldly, shielding myself perhaps,
behind a sturdy rationality,
against a loss of basic love.

Where has all the feeling gone?

Patiently I sit and smoke till dawn
(wishing I could somehow stop)
waiting for a surge that doesn't come
to help me write a poem again.

Am I getting too old to be sensitive?
Perhaps our skins get thicker
like our toenails, with advancing age.

RIVERS AND MEN

There are rivers for each stage of life
as well as for 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 births are a mere whim.

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

It tastes like 'Shit'

Lost in a mire of vomit
cascading hair hangs in drabs
yesterday’s pajamas
have forgotten what day it is

The rolling sea
lurches with wave
after relentless wave
and the light fractures
a rainbow of tears

Sullen nights stretch
into half lit days,
shadowy afternoons
are haunted by dreams
of sunlit beaches
and Tuscan ghosts

Dragging a towel
a change of pajamas
into the breach,
I am cleansed

But I still feel
like death has
me in his maw,
shaking...

A TRIBUTE TO AN AUSSIE POET PAR EXCELLENCE JESS

George Bernard Shaw said

"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world;
the unreasonable one persists in trying
to adapt the world to himself.
Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man."

I have also swum against the current
all my life
even though I ain't a swimmer
yes
et all breathless!

Many friends fall by the way side
as I alone stride
the world takes a pride
when one has gone aside

SILVER*RECIEPT

wove fingers
dexterity slender
the light like a
morning decoy

mist upon the
shine
of your most peculiar
aura
like the poplar dew
on its life stirring
in its evening voice

dusk an embrace
of your power
you slake a shoulder
to the last breath
of sun
soft like a luxurious fire
basking in the moons
powder light

your dark hair
with ribbons
of luster

The Red & White Blues

Change is on it's way
like a surely adolescent
the Blue is on the
ascendant

Blue is on it's way
all grown up
suddenly needs to
stand tall and sway

With the beating heart
of independence!

So, you want to leave home?
Go alone
eat your pauper price
enjoy the fatted federal fruits?

Enjoy the party whilst you can
the hangover
in Hanover
will waste your Highland hubris

And what of your family Union?

Sure you do stare

Sure you stare
I gaze at you
as you stare
then watch you take off
with your lovely pair
despite not much hair

in any case I'm bald
I don't care who
at my head does
gaze or stare

as long as they leave my balance hair
I'd love their stare.
take care

yours too!!!
I seem to share...

MASK

MASK

You always were a flower delicate
that withered in the noon-day sun
a heart that bled for everyone

But your eyes were empty and cold
and pierced my soul with venom
in your serpent dance of lies.

DRAINZ

lurid
blitz bulb burn
the dry dust beam
bling

chrome fridge charmed
handles
and bleeding aubergine candles
patchouli
dampness in summer season
cotton for deck chairs
fading
the makeshift bed
by the cellar sleeping
furnace
just the flicker light
gas rumble
of the water tank
the laundry faucet
leaking
the water drain
running an underground
torrent when the rains
thunder outside the
old bungalow geasy
tri pane

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