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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.

 

Our Night Sky (Anapestic Tetrameter)

Late at Night in the sky there are stars to be seen.
Constellations abound with a brilliance that’s keen.
But when gazing above bright suburbian glare
all I note is the darkness and stars that ain’t there.

About four in the morning bright Pollox is viewed.
Maybe Sirius, brightest of stars, white, blue hued
and Orion’s wide belt arcs from west to the east,
but there’s no Milky way. Where the Hell is my feast?

I sped at all haste as you called my name
There in the sunrise your form came to me
It called out in colours that spoke in the quiet
The early morning rose, it started to bloom.

Creating a light of its own a word of life to come
I stood in awe of the beauty of its talking colours
Stand for me tall, it soothed as the rose opened
It showered my soul with abundant healing rays

T r e m o r S p l i t t e r

bunch of feats
dripping dither
petals soft as a winter feather

hushed like a hot flames lash
tender as black wax
and red silk solitude
fallen crumpled
silent as a stream
a crowd

the shadow crept
to curl
stirred
in its flight
a logic flash
like a wish
lost
and dreaming

and you bend
me
my flexible
ache
sutured
to the break
the blood
and bones
these sticks
these stones
slick now
with rains
before the blows

Dangerous People

My professor told me that we’re a dangerous breed
Fooling people into the state of mind that we live and breathe
Throwing words around like some crazy son of a gun
Say what you want that man knows his logic and then some,

So have I been a criminal all along
A crook
A thinker
Some crazy man with ideas and on the run,

I've committed the crime of changing your mind
And above all I think I just wasted your time,
Telling you my sob stories and sharing some pathetic rhymes,

Attaining a promising verse

Who would promise a flourishing garden
that is barren and poor with no womb?
With no food or a plough it would harden
the attempt to attain what might bloom.

Who'd be raising the child; that's the voice
of the future, genteel, and true stone,
if his parents do not care with a choice
of upbringing his manhood with hone?

That's the verse with no rhythm or rhyme,
with no thoughts to evoke or to bliss
or emotion to shake-that's sublime
it won't awe or invoke, it's amiss.

Workshop: 

do SOMETHING , even if it's wrong(bottom line shop)

Trying a dactylic verse on a blank page
driving a fool to a desperate act of rage
fearfully referencing Webster
knowing this form he'll never master

Workshop: 

To be happy.

Yes, really happy,
Gratuitous, unearned happiness
Yes I am happy.

It shakes me to my core
Perhaps frisson or tremble is a better word

It is rare
It is precious
I am delighted

And…
Above all
Perhaps the perfect thing,

I don’t fear its inevitable ending.

Learners Mirror Poetry ....Thanks Edit!

The mirror........
You stand right before me
in admiration
of self emulated beauty
the giggle is spontaneous
and
genuine
then you break down into a seeming reunion
now you dance
after a refreshing perfumed prance
let your towel fall
without a trace of wrath
then you laugh,
loud
the world may hear
as you are seemingly calling
for your loved one
oh my dear

finally through life’s magnetic trance
you wander
and
mindlessly ballet dance

The Middle East: an Acrostic

The fire of wrath has set all things ablaze,
Human things now steam up, tyrants cool down,
Earth mother cries at Ghibli’s ghastly rage.

Mice and cockroaches - all cry out for help,
In dark and dust, they see no rising sun;
Dictators are now unyielding leeches,
Day and night, they just drink the blood of earth;
Like Sphinx, they rise up again and again,
Engulfing rays of hope in their ashes.

TAKE IT UP

Take it up,
the tool,
let it express its worth,

the details of its code,
shape the universe,
create a new one;

force, with its power,
the stars to change their place,
gain for just one object,
beauty, peace,

an edifice
of red and gold, 
bold as an organ
sounding through
in hollow rooms of jewels,

dripping sweet nectars,
sensuously delivered
between the two,

the instigator with his sounding rod,
deep down in the soft,
silky bed
of warm expectant must,

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