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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.

 

u l t r a v o t r o x x

supine the syrup sizzle
melting sweetly in the pan
la glace

forming rigid trajectories

bore easy you chew gum
i find it everywhere
knowing that you've come
and left a deliverance
like a worn panache

a fan hums
drawing ideas
aloft

we are light years away
yet you never forgive
to place a smooth pale
hand against my chest
and measure the distance
creaturely and careful

tasting concoctions
delightful in forty watt
light bathe

Midnight Pause

Fascinating is
that momentous turnstile pause
between fore and aft

We hope for the best
Yet must take that extra step
With vigor and zest

Life is a journey
Each day, week, month and year
Milestones to surmount

As part of a whole
Be it a friend or a foe
Trust in tomorrow

May Midnight Angels
Guard everyone from evils
For a welcome dawn

That moment between
The bygone and the new born
Is captivating

An Unexpected End

There are moments,
when suddenly,
you feel as though
someone in Heaven muted
the roar of the storm,

so all that remains is
a noiseless drama -
the angry sky,
the dancing of the waves;
visions that once made sense.

there's uneasy silence
which doesn't fit the scheme of things,
that makes you wonder
if all those demons were hallucinations
even as you contemplate
the flower blooming
at your feet.

Yesterday lies just beyond my reach,
It may never have been true.

waive

mirror age
awakening
the tap roaring
fan motor purring

drone dreams
capacity rush
wake through layers
the strata flood
emotions feeling
while sunshine
basks beyond
the thick comfort
of sheets tacked
the disarray of sheets
empty and alone

coffee in a dirty cup
and the gathering
of all discarded at
the end day

before

exhaustion drew me
down through its
sharp depths

The Story So Far

Hey diddle diddle,
a government fiddle.
The Tory’s were over the moon.
And Cameron laughed
To see such fun
when Clegg was left holding the spoon.

Hey diddle diddle
a government fiddle
When Grant hides her budgeted stats.
The ministers hoot,
highly amused,
when taxpayers pay for their flats.

Hey diddle diddle
A government fiddle
Increasing the front bencher’s pay.
And Osborne chuckles,
seeing the plebs
on seven pounds fifty a day.

Silicon Rebirth

From space to void
from womb to bed
from thought to soft
mewling cry.

I wait in queues
nuzzling long teats
of soft warm fleshy
motherboard.

site searches
reveal myself to
myself, growing
changing.
Reaching with eyes,
shitting voracious
words into napkin
white pages.

I spoke first words
monosyllables like
Manna and Amma.
Then fell reinvented
cyber-born from the
electronic womb,
cerebral plasticity
remolded.

Sacrificial

I am the priest
who glides saintly
to the altar,
round and round
the censer goes
spewing foul fumes
known to hell alone,

while embers fly like those
that fell
before the world was made,
scattering in the congregation's midst;
gathered ghosts, visions
of all I once have been
come to watch the spectacle
with dull, grey eyes,
and tongues
too thin to sing:

Neighbourly Are We.... N.A.W...

Neighbourly Are We…..N.A.W.

Do we really care if Mandela is dead,
just another news item we’ve had a lot.
That a soldier shot his prisoner in the head,
they get our ooh’s an ahs but soon forgot.

Have we become saturated in raw death,
seeing it daily on telly, computer or phone.
No second look or sharp intake of breath,
acknowledging that in death, we are alone.

Deeds indeed

Do well
be good
good deeds are rarely forgotten

though many do
but
postmortem speaks of the whole truth
good as well as bad,

If one had AIDS
tis sad
and
if someone did pierce
tis worse.

Jogging (My memory)

I walked in the quiet,
where the mist swirled,
stretching the mind.
The mist retreated.

There in my view,
a placid pond.
My mind Jumped,
becoming aware.

I thought of you,
yet could not see.
In my glowing hand,
a pebble round and true.

I tossed it into the water.
There from the centre,
wave on wave grew.
My thoughts followed

Then I remembered you.

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