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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.

 

windows

These are the first inlets
into gay gerunds
while the loop-holes
are gaiety green

Child, o your windows
shrewd me in crude suckt
and i burn as a star dust
gramercy gape at your gap

I pet a beckoning threnody
not enamel crack of grievance
as milk vessels crevice
in lamb dental's

Moats that mould
can afford no out-lets
and when the bricks mature
biers erect ivory like dolmen

Only a dream

When I dream of two cocks fighting,
I seem to imagine two poets
dribbling with a voluminous load of words,
trying to sort out
who amongst them will come first ….
I dream of a day when they all queue up
for a Nobel
but somehow I am ushered in... My best critiques yell.... hold it, tis unfair
he doesn’t know a dime of poetry
we dive into deep seas
in search of oysters with diamonds,
not pearls,
metaphor is all the more
the sign of a poet
a simile for a smile, maybe

PUSHER POTION

erotixa

slips in between the sterile beauty
the beast machine
nudges my chest
nipples still chilled
from the bold cold
that crept up inside
the last warmth

the light shines on fragments
of my shoulder
held together
by bad dreams
and lurid words

doll head dreams
on faded screens
"lipstick and tweezers"
she says sitting
straight up
eyes open
parted mouth

LOSS

As the fire burns down
the old man feeds it a log
then sits back and dreams

Long past days of youth
bring a quiet smile to his face
memories of her

He then remembers
and the smile melts like spring snow
loneliness takes hold

Ironically Challenged

I've been lost in the eyes of the precious
and breathed gasps of air in so full,
payed no attention to the view from the crowsnest
putting too much faith on the hull.

I've found solace when sad sorrow was boss,
lost perspective in a wee child's grin;
was coerced to feel the sadness of a loss
to truly feel how it was to win.

I understand things much more clearly
from outcomes of events so damn weird;
that sometimes, the folks I hold dearly
will hurt me much more than I've feared.

Love Affair (Complete Version)

1.
We were long into the summer
with the grass sweet and
the crabapples grainy and sour
on our pre-pubescent tongues.

The sun shadowed a clock onto
the street and it was time for food
and families.
That night I lay in bed with the
radio courting my dreams
while you slid into my friend's room and
seduced him to join you
in a world of make-believe,
helping him to get dressed;
pull those pants up around his neck
and tighten the belt.

The Clown

In the parks
and parties,
he charms hearts
with his tricks.

He chases away
other's sadness
to fill the day
full of laughter

His colourful silly attire
makes people smile,
forgetting their worries
even for awhile

But he is a human
like you and me
bound by emotions,
his wants and his needs

Beneath the painted face
he struggles to survive,
living life at his own pace
to keep his dreams alive.

Plaintive

a barrage of rain pours
melancholy onto rooftops,
filling my heart to capacity
with stagnant pools of alienation

I wish I had someone to hold me
in weather like this
as the trite emotion in my gut
reminds me that I am no different
than any other sentimental human being

but the loneliness at the brim of
my heart will never spill over
and the rain will stop pouring
but I will still be here
loveless

t-34

cellar door
slate roof
homemade bombs
and mythic truths

the shadow
of a mountian home
where roads snake
goat path swerve
and borne tunnels
tin funnels
torn shirts
and sheets
for flag flown
ideal sown

tractor petrol
four cyclinder logic
vodka tonic

and the cold twilight
supremacy
of a God
the ghosts lain
the years slain
rising like the springtime
meadowflowers

VISITING PATIENCE

It's Saturday morning , I'm awake
from a strange and haunting dream
(And I hardly ever recall dreams)
they come and go like a wet weather stream.

I was floating up above the land,
(as, in dreams, folk so often do,)
surveying scrub land and red sand.
Over Australia I flew.

Somehow I knew this wasn't now.
I'd gone far both in miles and time
to a past decades ago
ere I had written my first rhyme.

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