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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.

 

_v a c a n c y_____

astride the plastic truths
rain falling like silver hoops
shop stolen vermouth
drizzling in a patter

pooling reflections
the dazzle blaze of
your eyes
"what's the matter"

seconds curling
within the steel
casing
curtians soothing
sway
drone keep television
bray

whisper to a sigh
the stagnant
heap of order
waits
like a wolf

peach tranquility
luminous on the
extended thigh

Birth of a gc

Nice waiting for a GC

When my first one arrived
or was to,
I knew the caesarean was due
but the doc thought poorly of me
what does this grand pa to be

Think said she

so many gcs have I delivered
now he makes my inner quiver

Lo and behold
the nurse went running
doc, doc breathless was she,
I knew they have to act fast,
ere a disaster should pass

and the doc went into the ops room quickly,
controlled the situation
a grand child was born

6 >6 ** S U F L I C A U T E

cezanne eyes and widths
butterscotch eyes
tendrils of cheap rain
falling from the old peel
bending sound of traffic
the fast hot wheels

groceries dead in a fridge
and a monotone fly
circling through the flak
of steamy humid air

there is fire in the glass
and sultry hisses in
little s's
Jim Beams and
strong gum
glistening pink
on the old bible
like the fifties
(book of issiah)

Fire Meet Gasoline

Fire meets gasoline
There is sure to be
An explosion.

I'm exploding
Everyday I'm awaken
And see that
My world has not change.

Simple interaction
Ignites a spark
Trying to get it right
Explodes into a ball of fire

Setting my flesh to flames
Like lightening
I reach for the truth
But it leaves me burning
Wrangling on the ground
For some water to cool me.

This Economic Crisis

My son has given up his job:
he survived for almost a year
but finished up stressed-out.

He worked fourteen hours a day
for 1,500 euros a month.
He is a land surveyor;
he studied for five years
to get his degree.
That was his first job
and he is disillusioned.

One night they kept him in the office till 5 a.m.
then he had to go to work again at 8 a.m.
and measure accurately all day.

If he made a mistake
the company would lose money
and he would be responsible.

the hounds of a butcher

foot rounds to blood in side-pocket presumably
the ants of hill sun-smote refill
hounds, players above, below game
and the ballot is an ultimate forestry
cannibal cluster to let go our egos
quicker for the range of impeccable yoke's
primates for sullied yolks, car in these posters
ape the large size of submitted hearts provenance
infidel caliph to his masters ante-room
where cameras dangle around his neck

the ultimate design

This is always on one’s mind....
where to consolation find

.'''Where to go with you today
Your house or mine just fine....''anon...'''

as long as we both entwine
that is the ultimate desire divine
to swim in ravines
and let rivers flow from mine
to and within
ere the summer ends
and
we forget the golden mine
where then together we ought to dine
reverberating thoughts of the ultimate design

Imagination

I walked the shore
It changed as was my mood
Cold sands compacted
Hard surface that would hold an elephant
Tiny grains to shift as I
Pebbles as thrown by the sea
Jagged rocks with harsh surfaces
Just a beach that found the world as I did

Night Shift.

I salute you night-shift workers
wherever you may be around this globe.
It must be hard to sleep next day,
through morning light and noise.

Some of you put up with a lot.
Taxi drivers for example,
patiently waiting your turn in the small hours,
only to have to deal with drunks
or drugged-up, dangerous men.

Or night staff in A and E, or para-medics,
or prostitutes ready 24 hours a day,
or bar-men or bouncers or police.
All of you have to be psychologists -
specialists in misfortune and aggression.

Your Move!

That high-dollar chess set
doesn't help your game,
the look-how-smart-I-am-comments,
to me, seem lame

but you can't see it,
to you, it's success,
that shit won't help
on a feel-my-words-test

so get it out, release it,
let it fester on the page,
let us see something more
than your juvenile rage

dig past that pocket degree
show us the dirty lint
take us on a journey
make us glad we went

Show me

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