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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

Nepoet Weekly 09/15/24 to 09/21/24 Winner!

                                                                                      This Week’s winner is Jokerface82

 

Grandiose Majestic Mountain

There stood a majestic
Craggy face with razor blade
Edges of a monstrous
time honoured mountain

Turning its rocky nose up
at anything below him, robust
Jagged and risky, high stabbing
armour with White shark tip
Cut throated fins.

Bald rugged with a silent manner
cold stone as white as marshmallow
steep and strong, bold and old
broad frosted shoulders

With powdered freckles and a storm grey
complexion it wore a white necklace
and a frosted crown, made
by heaven.

 

                                              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.

 

d e s u l t a t i o n z

fragrance
set like waves
upon the valley
the wind shift
dance
in the dirt dry grass

cry alive
the bitter burr
the clasp brass
golden sheen
of the watch machine

step on gusts of routes
and rows
spinning clouds
aloud
and new

of all things
auld
of what was took
and knew

these soft sup shines
touches kind
nudges
like knees
upon velvet cushion
pews

A King's Folly

So it was Ulric, the Heathen King who rode on a black warhorse.
The ten thousand men he led, all giants from the north..

Savages who lived for the kill, raid and plunder.
Such was their cruelty , that they spread a reign of fear.

Undefeated in many battles, they became so arrogant
that they thought they were invincible after many seasons,

Yet the worst was their king who claimed to be God,
demanding to be worshipped when he was a mortal lord..

The Same Journey

Together we gather
Alone we judge the results
Leanings of lifestyle
So changes the seasons of the mind
Yours to your roots
Me to mine.

Yet do I hear a similar song
Taken from an ageless tune
People always seem to walk in shadows
The shadows of those before
The same sun shines on us both
Though at differing times
Then relative position
Hammers another song.

mirrror me mirror

A mirror simply reflects ...
the surface
depth is measured by ones eye
don't feel shy
we all are worthy creatures of nature ...
and...
we only mirror
what!
ourselves......

feel the essence of the individual,
mirrors
are only silent observers,
this is what anyone can tell

SKIN DEEP

I've watched as years crept up on you
the mirror became your enemy
and you've avoided its clear view
because of what you've come to see.

You focus on the graying hair,
those wrinkles (actually laugh lines)
and a few pounds gathered here and there
as well as other aging signs.

All of this is superficial
just a part of nature's plan
and to me inconsequential.
I'm not that shallow of a man.

Acess Denied / User bloggin '

facade foretold
by bodin' eye
glimpsed looking
glass the depthful guise

the pressure twixt
that held us fast
on a hairline crack
that shatters fast

the falls
glimmering
ice
shower
in shiver steaming
spout spitting
like wounds
from an old house
shaking
in the turbulent
flaw
of wind seeker
soul weeper winds

and in the deep
pressed
a hand against
my heart

and started time
in reverse

To share and impart

The best teachers are those that show you where to look
but don't tell you what to see.
The best students are those who don't look at your finger
when you point at the moon.

What kind of teacher I would be
would not show the moon too soon
and not allow my finger to linger
or clench into a fist of despair
to swing futilely at empty air
where I think your head should be
it having already outpaced me,
so now we are both free.

Reflections On A Song By Simon and Garfunkel

Reflections On A Song By
Simon and Garfunkel

Passion wanes like slack, neap tide
upon this island form
with little that can be denied
by distant, offshore storm

the weathered rock that is my bone
aches constantly within
a pain so deep that faith alone
will never heal its sin

The spectator

Happily chirping
And flying about
I saw you
Basking in sunlight
Agile
Singing your own song

Picking up bread crumbs
Sitting unaware
I saw you
Getting caught
Caged
Taken away

Inside a golden cage
Hung in a garden
I saw you
Asked to sing
Listless
Sitting in a corner

Being fed
Fresh nuts and water
I saw you
Looking through the bars
Sad
Longing to get out

k a r n i v a l e

winsome toy
the wound mechanics
of taut swirl
plaster sadness
the watercolor sheen
of magi works

darkness is the visage
pulled by horses of speed
canvasses of pleasure
chrome
glass

images through
sorcery

while rain drizzles
in churned mud
strays nuzzle
for the wicked hunger
of the lost
treasures
of souls
gleaned

from the garish
of seers

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