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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.

 

Raw

Since I no longer rest in your bedding,
My head is no longer resting,
My mind is slowly infecting
All of my soul which is protesting.
My heart; only accelerating
As anxious thoughts are manifesting,
Your lips are all that mine are requesting.

Choked

My throat has a lump
nearby there is no sump
where one can go and throw

The voice yells
go man go
but then I to maintain dignity
do swallow,
how shallow may be yes
may not be

but sometimes
my own voice chokes me…

Fresh Blossom (To Serve A Poet)

You stood out as a delicate gem of nature
the epitome of true passion
before your youth is ravaged through time

Weathered of your prime,
you bow to fate's decree, leaving behind
seeds of your memory to the birds of flight
that will spread them across the earth

The memory of your youth will linger
in the fragrance of the soil
until its time for it to be revived
when another's cycle begins

Workshop: 

A Lasting Olympic Flame..

A Lasting Olympic Flame….

The starter’s gun was silenced by their roar,
in the velodrome not a wheel was turning.
Crowds of hungry people trying to score,
looked on as their homes were burning.

One had the strength to ask their leader,
should we just think this is an Olympic flame.
What about my daughter now I can’t feed her.
my homes burning but you say no ones to blame.

Hidden Love (To Serve Poet)

Hidden Love

I sit here listening to soft music.
Spirits of the Isles, touches my soul.
Racing as silent tides toward my shore
Gathered, then gently left for all to see.

Thoughts of things gone by, touch me now,
visions of things to come satisfy a need.
Where are those voices that echo love
I need them now, to fulfil a space in time.

Comfort in knowing our love is safe.
That you and I loved without earthly ties.
Come sit a while with me, here as one.
Catch with me our love, because I care.

Workshop: 

r u s s i a n r i d g e

wildflowers
filling fields
arriving
towards a sun
brightening
blossoms
against a darkness
violet and crimson

Underneath...

I imagine a dense network of tunnels;        
malleable, hollow tubes narrowing        
then swelling - breathing a complex        
language beyond my comprehension.              
  
The synchrony is beautiful        
and I long to understand it.      
  

Yahooo!

Woohoo!

Yeehaaa!

Yobs yell to be sure
so everyone knows they are having fun
don't they know it themselves?

The bottom lip quivers,
perhaps pouting a tad too much.
A quick sly glance
betrays,
that the lady needs to know
her grief is seen
in-between
sly glances

Workshop: 

satyr in sepulchers non odious

serenade saffron
dazzle damp darkness
duct in concentrated concession
braiding on sea-mollusc shore wise
the dawn dreams with seance
by groove that ply breath tendril
tender dew fresh easiness oiled
sebaceous soft sweating
youthful glands baptizing flowers
synthetic to foretaste chill oceans
lit green gulls morn Mediterranean
not mourn ignition timorous
of potent heartbeats death-row
convent flag twine shifting impulse
from barometer of illusions elasticity
like when clouds thresh hold

It's No Vacation..

It’s No Vacation….

How can I vacate from what’s in my head,
Jackanory moments we get now and then.
Dreams or words, I hope to leave in my stead,
they must be written, then read again and again.

For then the truth will always be known,
if I write honest about what I’ve seen.
The young people of today must get shown,
what has really happened, what has been.

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