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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.

 

The Uncomfortable Man

He won't go 'yes, yes'
as you spout some homegrown
mystical bullshit

It is not homegrown,
it is not common sense,
you forgot to question.

He doesn't think he's right,
he knows it.
No faith,
no lies,
just knowledge
he nullifies your comfort zone.

Why would you put up with this
arrogant old prick?
He without the authority of guns and bucks

The rules of engagement

These are the demarcation lines of hate,
The crude black daubs of a battle plan.

Unspoken rules of some other’s fate,
Silently inscribed by unseen hands.

And whom, do we suppose, lands the final blow?
Among the innumerable rain of fists immune
To the fire below.

Forged, wrenched, wrought – an old and heinous plan begins:
Unleashed: the thousand shards of violent delight

For those who come willing to sow and fight,
While high above the bloody heaven,

A sardonic watching master grins.

the sadness of being

the mourning light
lays upon your face
spilling its sadness
wearing your grief

we hold on trying
to halt your slide
under our hands
leaves of skin flake
to float the breeze,
you are vanishing

smile lines are erased
a flawless mask
takes their place,
looking into the unknown
you are lost in dreams

each day a knife of anguish
carves at your mind
you've forgotten
the majesty of life
and a love all carry for you

Mental Transportation

poetry

designed
sublime
pretty, sometimes

yet, simply a vehicle
a word driven craft

certified and licensed
for transporting
minds

d e c a n t e r

copious example
held aloft
the good life
shinning through

beneath the bitter milk
and sour bread
we tilled the salt
with toil and sweat

trickle aches
the open dreams
like runoff streams
and miles bred

porchlight nocturna
waiting for visions
from heaven
and whispers from
the grasses

hunting bat
on moth glass
chase

drink heartily
these chaste
allowances

Moving

A disassembled life of pictures, books and curiosities,
scattered all about.
Huge jigsaw puzzle meaning little at a glance.
The reason for each piece recalled as dusted off and
packed within a pasteboard box taped tightly shut.
Each box stacked neatly in the center of the room,
waiting patiently to be gathered up and carried off to
some new lodging near or far away.
Their contents emptied in due time and
transformed into a life again.

poor those sullen minds

I thought poor … like pee
of those sullen minds

till I met and read ye
you held my hand….
many try to kill…
and upon others soil till …

that is the way with this wicked world…
we all know…
how the real ones perish…
whilst others glow…
and so it's time to surface here ..
and form a tracer… like a bullet...
and so may it be the violet...

I held to my feet
dug deep ...
as I learnt then
when we did meet

HOUR GLASS

HOUR GLASS
A sudden winter chill
stills the night
and steals the fire of day.
my light grows dim
the past fades into oblivion.
there is no place to hide
and I am lost in Time.

Sparrows

Why do the sparrows fly so high,
so near the sun,
so out of reach of limb
and rifle shot?

Why do they call,
but more,
why do I hear them call
when I cannot share
their merry song?

Why do they come
and go
like fleeting ghosts;
like happy little phantoms
dancing to a tune
that only God
and angels know?

That I do not know?

Why can no shaft
dethrone them from
their airy seat
into my empty arms?

wounded

In for repairs :)

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