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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.

 

unnamed

The stars no longer shine.
The moon has lost it's glow
No where can I find

The light that I have known
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow
Days to night, roses to thorns

Never changes, ever changing
Awaiting first shards of shadows
Dark comes the night

How many dreams
before again twilight

the once sweet one

OKAY I accept your challenge
next one will be on a house wife ...
one who is nagging, 55,
most of the while...

your tummy is so big
tis like you were ninth month in
your beard so grown
your shave a rascalian
gosh smelling foul teeth
use some sweetened toothpaste
wow your nose you pick
like a chameleon

what errors did I make
when I gave unto you,
youthful mistake
all gals make

Thoughts...

A quick note in the morning
“I love you”
Last night's ice-creamy kiss
on my mind

'Spicy chips in my lunch-bag'

Coffee, doughnut and smiles
quiet book and radio
Cocooned in limbo alone
passing tires muted

'Orders from headquarters'

Yellow life-boats for mom
hurried working-man
Traffic-gods against us all
beep, beep, beep

“Good morning, have a nice day”

War

There are so few reasons for war
and so many against.

Among the latter, I'd like to underline
the loss of countless limbs.

Bravely, the maimed do wheelchair sports
or go on adventurous treks,
but leaders never say sorry
for having created this mess.

Cerberus

They are buried away, far away.
The tempest lights the skies above me
Clouds twisting,
as they bellow hurricane winds
The momentary still of the sea
before it trembles at the roar of the maelstrom.
I glide through the water with purpose,
chased down by memories,
Burning emotions that hunt my conscious mind
like ravenous hounds…
My foot sinks into the snow.
The distant sniping of teeth carries in the blizzard
Wind and icy snow break on my face like needles
as I gaze at the last sunset.

S.O.F

sold as a sexton crusader
chute at every altars boyhood
our commandants indulge us
a service gun, Himalayan ghats
flay pecker banquet whistling
from the roof vultures drone Parsee's

camaraderie limp fire consternation lack
limb our one true trade union
like cotton of sunset steep
steed protagonist we supper at our-selves
ebb verve sporadic aimed at random

demo soldiers

Soldiers are simply shields to bear the brunt

of swords and bullets
soldiers have no right to cry,
they should only orders apply
else they would have been in a better position
If ...
Do you know?
the dullest guy reaches the highest pavilion
where angels fear to tread
soldiers love to go there
till they are stained
dead.
okay blasted too.
if that pleases the soldier in you

Pen

Damn!

My written thoughts halted,
A trusted friend abused
from night time overuse,
has run out of magic juice
to feed my passion

Ideas dangling in my head
denied in reality,
give birth to frustration.

Silence interrupted
as I paced about
trying to disentangle
my jumbled thoughts.

A lesson learnt,
never take things
for granted....

SOLDIER'S PRAYER

Might not we leave this cursed place
where all is naught but stone and sand
and utterly devoid of grace?
I've had about all I can stand.

Too tired of false comraderie
from "allies" who'd as soon slit our throat,
they have no use for you or me,
their hatred learned as if by rote.

Gave them a chance but now it's gone,
democracy is not their choice.
Brute force is what they depend on,
there's little reason in their voice.

On Being Recycled

the worms tickle as they scour my flesh
I'm getting used to it
but soon, I won't know anything at all

in the meantime, I'll be reminiscing
on the late me and my former life

I was a silly man
unaccomplished
a fool
taking all for granted

and now I am dead

would this moment feel any different
had I been a king,
or world renowned,
or even a saint?

I think not!

tickling worms will always steal the show

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