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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.

 

AT TOWN'S EDGE

What little hair I have is white
which peeks from under my hat's brim
as I head home to beat the night.
I pause a moment on a whim
just to look at all I see.

I've stopped between the town and home,
not really country but hardly town,
where both house cats and white tails roam
and not all trees have been cut down.
I shift my weight off old sore knee.

Born to love

Bryan Adams "everything I do " is now playing
Who needs Spotify when there is iTunes
Listening to iTunes Radio through my headphones
Keeps my depressed state in my bowels
I won't run away with the winds of my mind.

Some got it good
Able to move about with a clear mind
Not confused by the stormy winds of life
Trouble come to visit and never leave
Between two people hoping for a better way.

B U T T E R M O T I V E

dirty boots
and greasy hair
wave a cigarette
about in the swirling air

on the matress of weekend sheets
spilled cotton candy perfume
sin and collisions
smeared on the latex
on the varnish
on the tiles

a fan whirls
the sweet motor hum
stirring
long hairs
straying on the pillow
an arm draped
full of soft down
in the light
creeping through
the venetian

full lips parted
glistening in hot pink
and dark sky rimmed
dreamer blues

Asturian beaches

Most of them are small and may surprise you
with their clean sands and odd shapes,
as you stroll along a rocky, sea-bashed coast.
Few are spoilt by second homes
and many are ringed by fields with grazing cows.

Waters are rough and cold round here
so only the intrepid swim,
but surfers take advantage all year long
of heavy, rearing waves.

Indian Summer...

Crows... ancient tongue in his ear
as the dawn does break
A shadow against the purple sky
before the earth awakes

Mother earth holds his feet
Father Sun sends the wind
He feels the world enfold him
He loves his forest kin

Shadowed, dark-green woodlands
The waving, golden grains
All the beasts, that roam there
The forest and endless plains

A whispered prayer of thank you
for another day of joy
For the mountains and the water
and the life of an Indian boy

If Only We Appreciate...(A Sonnet)

How many eyes have looked, yet few could see
it's clear though, if they'd only meditate.
Among the layers find the real beauty,
just try to comprehend-appreciate.

How many listened, few however hear,
though clear it sounds, the charms beguile the feels.
The ocean waves, the flows and ebbs; a sphere,
a given chance, for everyone's appeals.

Yet, fully occupied, we oft forget
to employ our perceptive eye and pore.
We fuss; we over care for issues; fret
for silly things that healthy souls ignore.

Duple coots morbidity

Palm oil daughters artisan tramped
plunge eels deeper cousins
the years fantasia in Chibok
contumacy needing child coot as you
hooks worm insalubrious
intangible leukocyte stiff stump oasis
nestle of grimace apt neither clove
tropical hearts beak peaks
tambourine elf's widget wand
to gravitational and scuffle
magi intern........................... love that is
inimical to young pubescent
divulge for mounted shrill incandescence ;
candle light she used reading
wax and glow for bed time prep

Donkeys

Donkeys look like massive cuddly toys
but life's no game for them.
Almost everywhere they bear unfair loads
piled high on their sturdy frames.

In England they're loved by kids:
their smell is pungent, and riding one
is the pure stuff of childhood.

When well looked-after they warm the heart
and seem such enviable pets
that people dream of having gardens
big enough to keep them.

Time Up?

“What about a bit of fun, remember how, when we were young?”
“That was such a long, long time ago, things change”
“But I know it still makes sense, we’d be hidden by that fence!”
“Don’t be silly, dear, Now try to act your age.”

“You know I still find you so cool, so attractive; I’m a fool:
After all these years, how could I interest you?”
“That’s enough self-pity talk, let’s go out and have a walk.
We’ll catch the bus to Doonfoot, see what’s new.”

Rage

No one knows where she came from or where she has been
Her heart has been baptized in a world immersed in sin
Walking a destructive path trying to contain indignant pains from within
Removing the stench of humanity that coarsens her delicate skin

She had desires, her flesh rest upon test that left her stressed
Her soul screams in agony from the lassitude of eternal unrest
Lies resembled daggers that simply pierced through her frail chest
And even though she lives; it’s as if she walking in the valley of death

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