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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.

 

Just You Wait

I need to look at days gone by
To see if there are things that I
Have missed in my every day
Things at work and then at play

Do you know the things I miss?
A stolen look, that long soft kiss
The talks of love and other things
The friends I had, then my siblings

Things that may seem every day to you
To me they are lost, I can never renew.
It is an age thing I hear you faintly say
If I turn my hearing aid up all the way

Frozen

Limbs lie frozen
Moonlight twirls
Wind plays
Shallow symphonys
Calm night
Something new
Dark shadow
Presence strong
Flowing quietly
Hovers close
Reaches
Takes Arm
No longer
Afraid.

still ...tis digital kids

and perhaps you know not still tis digital kids

my brain is made of golden chips
that's why that alone works mostly...
hold one...
will you
and
then someone will say
a diamond one is now on ..
whose
will be news....

the chip will ask a question
is it now on?
or
diamond slow down
better on than off ...

so digital God gave a hint
one for that
and
zero we can't say
we all know not

hence one and a dot
keep fixing a lot...

Rainstorm

Winds ferociously growl
with weather most awfully foul.
some trees buckle and bend in the sway,
blown by the blustery day.

The sky is overdressed,
with swaddles of cotton soft pressed
churning clouds of rumble and tumble
‘til water sluices crumble.

Pouring buckets to earth
that skip into puddles of mirth,
falling down from the heavens in pelts,
drum beating watery welts.

Until all is unhinged
and vapours are beautifully tinged
with vermilion dazzling drops.
after the torrid rain stops.

"Digit" (For the story telling in verse)

“Alfred Digit” a Summary of his papers passed on to me a month or so ago.
They are taken from the diaries of a school chum I use to know.
I have written these mostly in the third person as it would explain the whole sequence of his later life

"Digit" Pt 1
He tore at the flesh as the screams subsided
the poor fool’s world and his had just collided
A short walk that was all there was to extinction
another flesh crazed attack his mark of distinction

A New Life

We thought that moving to a place

with springs, grass-field and butterflies

would make it better for us, but it was all vanity;

like in the city when we were complaining about overdue bills,

traffic, noise and lack of privacy,

we are now polluting this serene place

with our petty fights.

If it is possible to move to heaven right now,

I think God would kick us back to this blue ball……..

Honey, I think it’s time that we change our attitude

towards each other, and rekindle our passionate love,

What’s in a cuppa? (Iambic Hexameter)

One must be in the moment to enjoy the tea,
a time of contemplation; nowhere else to be.
Aroma, taste and warmth alone to hold one’s thought.
A sentimental cup and may perhaps a pot.

Arrange a lovely view to set the mind at ease
and should it be outside allow naught but a breeze.
Then choose the tea with care- it must be brewed to soothe,
a bitter taste or something cultivated smooth.

Stifled

You smacked a moratorium
Across my mouth,
An invisible hand that said:
"cordoned off, keep out"

Ideas were muffled,
Freedom of speech, A no-go
Whatever was said
Represented a no-show

You built a wall
So high I couldn't see
Not past or around,
Merely, inside of me.

You scratched away
The surface of my smile
Said "hide it", don't confide it
You look like a clown".

Ounces Steeped Out

Ounces Steeped Out…

I once stepped out on to the stage of time,
after all I know how the actors do act.
They’re mostly in pursuance of mime,
you know it to, it’s a moment we refract.

We can play to an audience of just one,
behold the actors find they’re in love.
Simply that’s the way it’s always done,
all that they needed was a gentle glove.

But when audience becomes two or more,
as they pass on to a different set or stage.
Rattling on like a train to a musical score,
that’s when notes become difficult to gauge.

a t r o p h i n

stale palm
the sweat work pallour
knocks the sun slipping

honorary scars
and sun dyed cars
a desert blossom
in a cacti needle forest
glistening sting

knuckle
fallen
rest

with overcast
shades

a ventilators
steps
risen
and dropping

barometric
loves flame
in the cupola
of a pilot game

take wing
pretty verse
in a slipstream
orchid dusk

pressed
on peaches
of gravity

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