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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.

 

Kissing is a train journey....

You buy a ticket,
she buys hers
both board the same train
don't look at her …ignore,
then she looks back in your eye
and does smile…
smile back still ignore…
then the next move,
move a seat closer
she comes and sits next to you...

the rest is all a sojourn
a long one ahead
ere the end of the morn,
kissing is the travel
throughout the night …
till both have had sufficient delight

Kiss me here,
Kiss me there,
just now kiss each other anywhere

Mosquitoes in the night !

THEY

Maybe the angels
Saw the light
Like mosquitoes in the night
Bulb turned on
In my room

So they hurry through opened window to me!

And I'm telling them

-There's no life in here for you,
you're going to die.

I

I'm peeking through keyhole!
There's me in an empty room

It's summer night
Just to let you know

If I open the window
Mosquitoes will enter

This way
Completely is enough for me

from famine to flood

astonished veins
are bursting
with poems
among the debris
I find a notebook,
sitting on the edge

midnight sparked a flame
and ate through the page,
my first word
was confused and excited
burning to a nova

images of purple dawns
bright green moons
pink trees and yellow blooms.
flood my memory,
these are the shining eyes
of a night walker

reflected in the window
of your black soul.
a skein of feeling
pimples my skin

POETRY WAITING

My poetry is waiting in the wings,
its melody is halted by so many things,
with dashing nurses, pills,
all sorts of holes to fill with this and that 
and stop my pains
waited on, our every whim 
rewarded with a smile,
while storms of rain accost the window panes
warm wrapped in blankets we remain prostrate
helpless in our present state
wondering what time it is 
as time has gone away
and soon its night before another day. 

Tough Love

Tough Love

Slithering on shards of bone, I bleed profusely now
rapture streaming from a fractured face
nothing to impede my passage as I seek the love
of she who sits upon the throne of grace

ebon hair cascading down on breasts of sculptured pearl
eyes that glow a luscious evil green
a goddess from the nether realms intent and hungry now
waiting for my lust to drain me clean

I felt it die

the night screams
as I rip at the fabric
covering my mind
attempting to
tear out the ‘look’

poisoned barbs dig deep
your anger descends
as does each stab,
you look down
from so very high
but no longer see me

curling under the stars
and held in agony
without a single tear
I cry a river of silent voices
on a pillow of crimson stars

bleeding out your venom
I become transparent,
again I feel your ire
and seconds later
something dies

a m n e s i a * A r t i f i c i a

emerald skein
clothed in a haze
resolute and brazen

treacle breadths
and spirit sheen

cast me forgotten
in plainclothes warrior
worn

i was first foremost and last
the ember shrouded
edging out the watermarked
curling celluloid
into smoke

taste the future on my wrists
hot bow breath down the
wastelands of her spine
writhing soft as the oracles
pallet of tinge
wrapped in cascades
entropy wins

and the little values
of vertigo
spin

Alter Ego

Emerging like a shadow
pulled from the night.
Outlined by light,
he waits.

On noiseless feet
going where reality dares not
Those who did her wrong, he had not forgot
nor forgotten was the promise made.

On rage filled wings
he soars through the sky
deciding who's turn it is to die.
Talons outstretched, searching for prey.

Soul catcher, dream snatcher
A wounded heart, sworn to protect
following years of neglect.
The Raven will have his day

Ian and Loved..Duo poets

Ian and Loved.. By.......Duo poets

Better to walk the beach alone,
you too
Better to walk the beach alone,

Friends will gather,
as they call
your name
one by one.

Ian
and
Loved

Loved
and
Ian

Life can be so
very lonely
even when...
in a crowded room

Better to walk the beach alone,
never moan
one day the world
will you, alone own...

The small bard was
also ours!!!!!!

Confession

Confession

spawned from lustful fornication
born without a name
reared by those unfit to coach
the playing of life’s game

absorbing knowledge like a sponge
daring to be strange
yet all the while still wishing
I had the will to change

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