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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.

 

For Carrie

And what of the night, Titian?
What of the night?
It is all I have now, Titian.
It is my only light.

By moon and star I see.
In absence I see greater.
In torch and candle, hearth is he
who changed me for the better.

But what of night Titian?
What of the weary night?
Such webs imprudent spun!
I begged.

He laughed.
I never thought the change would hurt so much.
Ah, wicked was the whoreson’s touch.
He laughed.

a p a t h y

paperwork paper
hang on to documents
lose documents

without them you dont exist
progress
and yet

treasures bus slips
needless things
catch up

The River Runs

Spirited away into a void,
suspended in nothingness.

Moving pictures
of life flash by,
momentous moments
pause in transit,
allowing one
last celebration
of remembrance.

Instances of sorrow
smear sight,
the wretchedness tears
new holes in regret,
stamping days
that cross the soul
with melancholy.

Closing the shutters
of consciousness,
slipping into the
divine form,
swimming through
the dying river,
finally letting go

Vampires' Night

Arise my dark children!
Kiss your slumber goodbye.
The night has returned,
let us soar across the sky!

See how mortals tremble,
their fears so fresh and alive.
Some will be our slaves,
others will scream as they die

Hunt down the faithless,
the weakest prey of them all.
The unrepentant sinners
won't escape their fall

The virgins' blood will be
so sweet on your lips
you'll drown in ecstasy
with every droplet you sip

PUNCHING PAINT

The paint flew in heliotrope
splashes
wet splurge

On canvas
on rooftop
on studio floor

speckled sprayed smeared
a fist of vermillion
POW!
a gloved chartreuse
azure was tender
THUMP!

The punches for real
all pent up fury
and poverty

The gallery needed action
the artists needed cash
so spectacled
ridiculed
a school of performing
paintbrush limbs

In Daylight, On a Park Bench, One Summer

Too many times I have sat and watched as
you have told the little lies you tell to
explain away your actions and begin
the tired process of justifying your
callous behavior and desperately
horrid statements whose only purpose is
to viciously demean and brazenly
cower any small voice of compassion
directed toward those you savage as the
vile entertainment that is your sad life.
Then I recall these conversations are
just another aspect of my illness.

A Stranger Sort Of Slumber

I saw you swing
a lantern like a star
above your head,
you waved
and maybe called my name,
or sang it as
you'd often do
somewhere between
a whisper and a sigh

I clambered through
the rising mist
looking for you,
but then you disappeared,
and all that howled
was the empty wind
through a gaping cavity.

The world capsized
or I tripped
perhaps,
in a tumble of earth
and broken wings.

porpoise teeth

purpose teeth to tongue
how can it speak, lick lip stick?
deplete complete biscuit
seek six sick sins
sat in SETT badger badge
barge barrage bar rage
cage as wage on stage
wadded ledge hedge pledge
verge dirge dire spire spaniel
cruel sequel Daniel in well
dwell dungeon cell
fortress fourth stress
Canaanite cane mite
dusk dust of light
knife of life
separate time , serpentine

Love Affair

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.

Toswawtomo.. or

To Swim Within Those Moments…

As I gather up my clothes,
from the river bank the sun
steams our skins.

We had swam naked, eyes
wide open to the chill as
parts shrunk from the waters.

Our voices were echoing
male female in a
scattering of time,
from the old red barn the
Owl hooted his annoyance,
it had no clock.

This moment lasted hours
and the hours of this
present time were ours,
we held our time gently
as not to break.

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