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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.

 

Imbolc

Soaring summit's
highest grace
fills the soul stretched thin
by old winter's dying moan,
revealing the embrace
of coming spring
in sunshine scatterings from
drifts of pale crusted snow.

Surging
warmth's new enfolding
spreads low along quiet
stands of sleeping trees
still caught between
the frozen edge of Earth's
slow revolution
and nearing summer sun
concealed by cold horizon.

Interesting Guest

A hairy worm found a place to halt,
Smashing it would be my fault,
Thinking so I left it to rest,
Smiling to myself saying ‘interesting guest’
With days passing found forming something around it,
On closer look it was cocoon oval and hard a bit,
Within few more days it broke out,
There it was a beautiful butterfly no doubt.

The Truth and Fallacy of Words

Syllables and sounds
forming
What our heartbeats say with every
thump
Relieving the vibrations of our
throat
Echoes through their
eardrum
Resonates in the
sternum
Reciprocates
and procreates
With the same desperate
Vowels and
consonants

F L E T C H L I N G

smooth articulate voice
quiet like a glade signal
the forest is listening
each drop waiting
humid tension
shadows like the edge
of an iris
at the birth of night
birdsong and insects
stilled
a moment held

like a white wing stretched
poised and held
hypnotic
dose
distraction

spines swaying through
the trails
the light diffused
like vegetations smell
tobacco in its strap
the soil soaked into
pores laces
pockets nails

Mind Games

Each night,
I miss your mint,
in mornings, like my coffee,
and in between
we ride on our breaths,
play, wind and unwind.

I wake up
on a crumpled sheet,
caress to find it moist,
pillows strewn hither thither,
as too is the girdle
sprawled upside down.

My eyes veiled in pink,
lips sore,
nails blunt,
hair disheveled,
and my skin
wearing goose bumps.

Beauty

Would that I knew of a moment sublime,
would that I heard once a mockingbird rhyme,
but there is naught that’s divine I recall.
I know of only the depth of my Fall.

Would that I heard once a musical phrase;
phrases that sung to the heart of my soul,
music that might hold my too weary gaze.
I know of only the forspent and droll.

Nothing in life poses blessings of aught.
Nothing is bright, no not even my thought.
Thence, I am lonely, a bleary, old man,
one who shall muddle the best that he can.

The Trial

Lawyers as fierce as tigers
locked in a battle of wits
Voices raised in anger
fists clenched, teeth grits

I object!
Overruled!
The tension filled the air
The judge warns with a glare

Accusations, condemnations,
the war of words debates
the claim of innocence.
Let the evidence be displayed!

The panel of jury listens
The judge sits in silence
The media witnesses
before drawing to conclusion

Someone's heart will bleed
for the hope of salvation

moments to remember

I refused to spend
our last minute in grief, so
(to remove this other visage
threatening a takeover)
I transposed over it

your face
with that gorgeous smile,
holding in contemplation,
a curious child, me.

then control was lost,
your eyes
swollen in sadness
with an agony
we carried together,
unmoving they
consumed me

and now,
my face burns,
with a heart
arched in sorrow,
in the knowing yours
is now reposed
in heaven

We're So Strange, ARE WE NOT...

We’re So Strange, ARE WE NOT…

Tilting at windmills is tiresome, I know
because I’ve been doing it for years.
Still we’ve got to change this world we
live in, it’s just so ugly as it appears.

People dying for freedoms, they hardly
know what they’re struggles are for.
The next person to oppress them, is
the bastard who took them to war.

We need to take a leaf out of Gandhi’s book,
smash all weapons, use only a labouring hammer,
don’t fight, only work for each other,
you’ll soon hear our grand leaders clamber.

tis metaphorical poetry

Each one of us is an identity
what a pity
we all are so different
and
have a different poetic inference

what of metaphorical notion
poetry is partly autobiographical

and

mostly inspirational
metaphors are known but rarely used
most poetry is generally implied
we thank each other
for being poetic guides
as all enjoy the mental
plateau- tudunal rides

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