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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.

 

The Redoubtable Fighter

They are confident in laden with
a lot of energy of driven effort of
the utmost trained quality to and
its actions to defender attacks
and the strength to defend .

With skills in and mentality to have ,
and not easily defeated in thus
to watching out for of attempts of
skillful talent going all for it
no anger but technique .

When in heaven

you can have a palace
as big as heaven
no frig is needed
nothing to store
you don't have to beg
for more
ask those who are there for sure
what you missed here
for that there is a cure….
no condoms are ever needed
so stay pure
have kids galore
may not be all yours

so be in heaven when time comes
you needn't advance your flight
enjoy on earth your entire plight….
for once you are gone
even heaven is out of sight
Friends am I not right!

M inatauro

the wall
halls upon halls
room enough
this depth
this tireless realm

in the light
its fussllade
fingers
you rise
speaking
one of those beautiful
oracles
the flesh full in the light
of your mouth

somewhere a sea mourns
its loss
and a moon seeks tireless
the tidepools for your beauty

Hurt

There is such soaring hurt
in how I feel for her,
for at the end the ecstacy
of life we have together
will turn to dust
and every moment spent
will come to nothing more
than haunting memory.

The agony of truth
is that a hundred years
will not be enough,
that the drug of her
still flowing through
my veins will not weaken
in every wrenching second
I spend without her.

A Father’s Daughter

You can’t do this and you shouldn’t do that.
And who was she in that big red hat?
Don’t wander far when off you go.
And stay off the “I” you drive to slow.

Did you take all your pills today?
At least your clothes match anyway.
How come you’ve got new after shave.
Kind of strong, now you behave!

But buried in those nagging words,
a daughter's love is always heard.
So such is life there is no other when
father's daughter becomes his mother.

Nascent Dream

The rainbow never held a pot of gold
for me, no more than an illusive lust
just a dream of you draped in a lingerie
limbless, stripped of bust.

Not fluffy locks with silver streaks
swirling above in seductive tease,
I crave for the thunder of fusing mass
flashing the hunger in your eyes.

A pubescent bush aroused by steady rain
not enough to quench its parched terrain
for a lashing of furious torrents it screams
to flood its wanton rivulets.

A Heart's Tale

It was once a garden of innocence,
full of love, hopes and colourful dreams.
Then the raiders came with a vengeance
trampling on its virgin soil marking grim

They looted its treasures out of greed
and set them on fire in vengeful hatred.
As the young man wept while his heart bled.
His soul, no longer a free bird.

From the pain of yesterday, a promise was made
to never again be gullible and weak.

dastardly batik my dog dress

market-dress, singularly
each would now trace
pattern for club disarmament
scalpel postmortem needs be
death to thoughts linger...... me
forerunner needing four wheels
man and dog share alike prostration

the oldest superstition
is dogs can ask

crimson batik dress she loosely opts
navel becomes an obese slave
lapdog is protruding intrusion
truants for invasion
recipe of routs juvenile
cast-outs rebirth of her

Mousing

.

The neighbors are fucking again.          
One slab of meat slapping off the other:          
greedy, porcine. He grunts, she grunts.        
         
My cigarette heats a fingernail      
bringing me back to my own frigid hands.   
I ping it far enough to land in their garden.        
         
She squeals; her Polish is music. I wonder  
if she sounds like that when he's out of her.  
I see my empty bed and my eyes fall  
cuntwards.        

.

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