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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.

 

woodland wandering (To Serve Poets' Workshop)

WOODLAND WANDERING
The sun goes down.
Day yields his kingdom to the night.
The moon appears.
Confirming sun’s disgraceful flight.

On woodland trails,
Forgotten years ago by man.
The Axeman hunts,
With sharpened blade kept close to hand

The young girl waits,
Her boyfriend gone for breakdown aid.
The car, still warm,
Lulls her toward sleep, unafraid.

He sees the car;
The Axeman takes a ragged breath.
The girl awakes;
Her fate is horror, pain and death

Workshop: 

today there is a burning fire ---- within me

The poetry please!

today there is a burning fire within me
to perform a newer kind of poetry
this ignites the infallible minds of humanity
such a kind of poetry
where two lovers face one another
and
as one smiles
air-full of kisses fly

and

the crowds in great abandon....
hide behind a veil of time

no clouds are needed...
they all want an audience blind

so be it my way to say
stay
do read my works
once in a way....

a meeting of minds

In the silence
of this crystal night
shimmering,
entombed in light,
we'll tippy toe upon the stars

Moving in a universe
the tips of our fingers
write poems of stardust
as we shift
the mists of time
being graced in part,
a poets Valhalla

Fishing in the black holes
reeling the next dimension
through, meeting minds
from the center of the think
they ripple with the solar winds
ghosts of the eternal flame

FLOWER CHILDREN

....They all were born in sixty nine
at least that's when they came to life ...

The poet capturing the time
to hold it for the future young
in verse that didn't always rhyme
with words which soothed and often stung.

The singer taking poet's words
then unleashing music in the air
where it soared, where it rang
to be remembered by all there.

Also the thinker of new things
new ways to live and love and Be;
newly defining his generation
which tried so hard to become free.

With Words

with words we cursed
feigned laughter
then ducked

with words we whispered
touched lips
then fucked

with words we transgressed
improvised apologies
then smirked

Porte De Porc...

Madness tries its' tricks
But, he pushes it aside
He cannot let it in
He does his job with pride

The guiltless are protected
He does his very best
He takes the sin upon himself
Puts the impure-souls to rest

Tonight, it is a rapist
He caught him as he fled
Too late to save the victim
Sprawled upon her bed

In his spotless kitchen
The chef gets out his knives
Hot kettles boil and simmer
So full of useless lives

Graveyard Train

Graveyard Train

Coffins move on rails of steel
across a moonlit plain
those within indifferent
to passion, pride, or pain

they met their fate in distant lands
where terrorists now toil
but were they fighting for a cause
or merely foreign oil?

I Am Me

Have I become a puppet to the people I loved,
bowing to their nays and ayes
seeking their approval each time I have served
in every role I have played?

Let this not be true! A man without identity
is a slave to other's perceptions
in all his actions, there is no sincerity
seeking for approval, fearing rejections

I'm reclaiming my rights to be heard
the muted voice has awakened
no longer will it revel in silence
it is their turn to sit back and listen

My Garden

I walked into my garden today
There you were, I said go away
Why you asked of me, "Can’t I stay?
It is not your time to visit my home.

I have been to your home I know,
that was so you would not be alone.
There staring from your window so
It was the tears I helped you let go.

This garden of mine will be here,
when shadows greet winters cool
It is but a tool of eternity, can’t you see?
I tend it so, that you can walk with me.

***********p..l..a..n..c..h..e..t..t..e***************

error
slip margin of sleight
fault visage
and mirror hosts\

seething haste
of spedthrift
ghost

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