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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.

 

the light of stars

The light ripples
as night comes
and falling
forever falling

I brush the satin
skirts of night,
I ease onto the black
bed of stars

Twirling galaxies
ignite on my palms
to stretch the universe
within my reach

a handful of moons
a brilliant milky way
lies within heavens
lost to our eyes

Rumors of shooting
stars fall in my sight
as I turned around
It was reflected in all

Peace

Ask citizens all over the world
to invite immigrants of a different race
(and/or religion)
to their homes on Sundays -
for lunch and then a chat.

They might enjoy the taste
of unknown recipes.
They might have fun
and soon make friends.

The man or woman on the street
does not want war...

Ask politicians (or better,
oblige them with a law)
to study compromise, fair play,
and how to just give in a bit
whenever possible...

coming...a new ..a fresh light in the sky!

lights lit up the streets
of Paris
and
London's streets
so also American

the American doll
of TIME SQUARE awaits
the one who adores
all gals are fair
some are tall
many small

I await the one who will last with me
no not as an American doll
but a pretty lovely one
for Lovedly
as Loved has gone...
technically

Hanging in an Orchard Glade...

Hanging in an Orchard Glade…

They had a life till evil came along,
places to go, things to see and admire.
Both dreamt of lovers, of a gentle song,
instead they have their funeral pyre.

No other animal does this to it's kin,
yes they’ll fight when hungry for food.
As far as I’m concerned they win,
when battling man for common good.

These girls just happened to be there,
upon this same earth as you and I.
Then the imbeciles laid them bare,
two young lives hung out to die.

STAPLEDMATCHLOOK

syrup in these crystalline
image
a spoon poised in amber
deep
swallowing the light
like the hand of night

an hours clasp
touching the pulse
like a black beetle
scrawled
legged
upon his throne
in a wire wound

the silence room
all starpowered
widths

on a hip of a forgotten
sleeper
are the words of a second
guessed dream
grasped
in a link
when morning
shattered
in

a new principle
of garments
from the corner

Waiting For My Grandchild

You may be born any day now, any hour even.

But here I am alone, just waiting,
with a mixture of trepidation
(having seen too many disasters)
and anticipation of a new age,
not old age exactly,
but grandpa age.

Just as long as all goes well
I may soon be able to teach you a little,
calmly, slowly but surely,
fruit of experience,
knowledge of one life at least.

Denied Alchemy

readings denied
so I scratched your name in shale
alchemy of sand

You Must Have Looked Good

You must have looked so good when you were young!

You still have shapely legs,
high cheekbones,
sparkling eyes,
a mischievous smile,
a neat figure,
slim neck,
strong shoulders...

You must have looked so good, but I can't remember you
as your were, unless, too occasionally,
I take down a photo album from its dusty shelf,
and there you are in your young glory,
making me feel that other men
must have envied me then
and perhaps they do now!

where eternity and infinity meet

Many serious thoughts …cross one’s mind
when the need draws
some say it's normal,
just wait… others shed tears
what will happen
when I'm no more!
who shall whack my back
as I whine
who will say a bloody good man divine
and who will laugh and shout aloud,
gone is the self wallowing clown
then there aren't many dirty fish
In the ocean of life,
many suffer beyond variable strife
yet survive … some die
ere and ere…
but no one about them does care
ere they die somewhere

the seed and the flower

quite like an old man’s gaze
I thought I felt my shadow grow
as the survey extended to gash
the weighted blade sparing the bones

the sole horizon no longer pure
against marring pedestals of mud
which these hands hollow built
growing harder with each sun

seeking to silence the past
is of no use for the chamber swells
the reverberating echoes
live and shake the cracks
the only perpetual character

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