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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.

 

C H A R I T I E

an open wound
alive with warmth
steams

rising
as the soft
new snows
gather

past an
alarm of light
blazing in
its lonely
place

wet
with leaves
disguised
with night

a cold fire
with a scald
alive
within a heart

laying layers
beneath
fluidity

each slow world
dissolving
soft texture
of sound

delicate
impressions

Painted Green Pastures

The street light strayed into the room
piercing like cat eyes
stalking the night
patiently waiting for the field mouse
to let its guard down.

Only the shadows move
as the heart races,
pumping a raging chemical river
flooding through the valley
of your memories -
you'll never think that way again

In the morning,
a pair of slippers is slid on your feet

(shoe laces are not allowed in here)

then they walk you to a chair
to teach you how to sit again

a wild heart

light traveled
to the heart
of the dying day
mingling with
the unknown
until,
this black
timeless
wonder
entranced me

warning clouds
cleared the face
of the mountain
as a tempest
kicked up,
a whirlwind
of dust covered
a darkening sky

a flickering light
announced
the beginning
of the first act,
the stage was set
as lighting flashed
a drum beat out
windows shook
my blood was raised

Homesick too

1 in 5 stars may have "Goldilocks"
(Earth similar)
planets.

There are around 300 billion stars in the Milky Way.
There are around 250 billion galaxies in the universe.
We have absofuckinglutely no idea how many universes there might be.

So just in our universe
300,000,000,000 x 250,000,000,000 ÷ 5 =
... a lot of potentially habitable planets,
and that's just for carbon based lifeforms.

f i s h t a i l . . .

powdered blush
a dawn
broken
a fractured mirror

in the winds
the arms
speak
high in the dark
limbs

s-curve
in the light
melding
through
to the other room

free of the wings
and shackles
all that you strove
for raising all
hackles..

For Ma'am Ann

'''When all the birds have flown,
remains their song....;;;--------ma'am Ann

but you are not left alone
younger kids join in to read
what in spring one was sown

and

a dream we harvest....
ere tis autumn
let all bygones be bye- gones

strength within 1940 born...
is reborn
and
the pen strikers continue to remain on
yet as powerful
if not more
so you too must carry on...

There is yet to be many a morn
when poetry should rise
like sunnier summer sunrise

A Thought A Feeling

You are there without a form
Just a pattern that I know is you
What can I do for you as you draw near?
Things to me in the now are not clear.

I could feel the colours of your touch.
Your gentle think inside my mind
Yet there is no message that I can find
Oh! Thank you! I know why you visit so.

Just to tell me that you love me is fine
my love for you spans all of time.
There is an infinity of things to learn
I still need more time, before I return.

A GLINT OF LIFE

I watched a leaf float from a tree,
no breeze to guide its path,
it flew as delicately as a flake of snow,
undetermined where to go,
landing here on branches, there buoyed up,
its ariel shape,
its colour brown and pale,
and with its gentle dance
my thoughts began to meditate
on autumn's quiet expressions,
their subtle grace;
it landed with a little sound,
a full stop as it found its place
among its colleagues on the ground.

The Center of Desire

I run my hand
over the fabric
of your skin
slowly,
moving my hand
over its textures
and plains
memorizing
your form

a raging want
burns through
my need,
I am transfixed
and aroused
your words
clasp me
into the center
of your desire

separated I despair
for only a moment,
this growling beast
this fiery lust
eats to the heart
of my core,
returning, you
tease playing
with my passion

There are no happy ever afters
on this side of Gloomy Hill.

Most smiles are feigned
as are the faulty souls
that look through squinted windows
at a world turned black and grey.

There is no joy,
but only sadness,
masked behind a cordial mien
that shouts conflicting creeds
in its undertones.

Laughter is a chorus
of broken glass
against entombed regrets
but I am the eye that sees
into the darkness.

There are no happy ever afters
in a world of broken things,

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