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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.

 

Pocket Orgasm

texts and samplers
from foil packets

pushing into spines and
musculature like road
maps pushing and pawing
gently purring
while moans and sighs
slip away

My day was a wretch of
happiness
but this touch unwinds my
bow of frustration
like a whipped hair
bent and fluffed from
a bended hip

She smiles
waiting

I know its a given gift
this trust
her back
so I work as I can
intuitive
knowing what she
needs without
much words

An Urban Autumn Tale

An Urban Autumn Tale

Christmas wishes voiced in young October
generate a mournful sigh of noise
from a harried, working single mother
who knows she can’t afford the latest toys

as she cleans the mealtime’s meager leavings,
both her daughters giggling away,
she wipes her eyes as well as supper dishes
and in her troubled soul begins to pray

Poetry Today

was I wrong in saying

Poetry is composed less .....read lesser ....and commented upon least ....
except for some great guys outright condemnation ....
so compose
and
repose a faith in yourself,
read and read and then confess
tis worth a garbage bin's worth
and
then smear it all
on mother earth

Poetic Justice?

I am an emcee, so my form and structure may be different to the norm.

"Evermore" “Quoth the Kookaburra”

He spoke to me in gentle tones
About mulling over ancient bones,
better things to think I ask of you.
shall we then find something anew?

To talk till evening stars emerge.
Where worlds collide, truths are heard
in rooms closed from our busy world
let’s talk of things that hide within.

I fear the dawn, the sinking sun
I am now lost, let them freely run
yet they are here with us to learn.
Each step a path to peace we yearn

Sucker Punched

Every time I think I got it right
Here you go starting a fight
Sucker punching words spewing from your mouth
Flying as if a fist to shatter all my doubts.

Asshole, you make my life a living nightmare
Hindering the efforts to be fair
When sharing a kind moment
You make me wanna vomit.

A cake made especially for you
My special disgrace when you're blue
Constant awareness of your evil flesh
Keep me far from your electric fences

You -the diamond

Flawed perfection:
Extraordinary blaze of son.
You are not who you were.

Such a battle, wounded,
We are scarred, bloodied.
All our once-were stories are undone.

You are in the books of others,
Fat with history, agony,
Condemnation, hope:

Love in all its constellations
Bled dry.
The hardness of survival.

You - the diamond -
Reflect our fractured mirror:
Forgiveness

Identity

Identity, my old enemy, how do you do?
Making me wonder who am I, like you give a Damn.
Spinning my wheels at your hands, you make me crazy.
Poison arrow through my heart, heated dagger in my eye.

Thoughtless bastard, you darken my soul, make me lose my mind.
Through your torture, the push and pull, I find comfort in your arms.
Twisted love turned to hate, as I second guess my fate.
Where do I belong, you spit in my face, grinding my dreams to dust.

Workshop: 

S t a r v a t i o n

the television is a crime
sated on its feed
its worm breath
and noise
hissing through the sleep

folding dreams into abstractions
that the hall light performs on

sully on this
chill
caught
in steam subway
home vents

there is a rumble
beneath the
feet
of the harried
and the hurried

stop and turn
and listen
there is a voice
starting now

a voice that will
lead
from the conspiracy
trove
the highland ocean groves

ZEN KOAN

A poem is a kind of Zen Koan,
for people to decipher what life is,
without having it spelt out
in our already watered down intensity of expressions;
carved into stone, words,
words uttered by the great, the small and ourselves;
taking the mind for a kind of spiritual walk
in the whole of existence,
and leading one to see the truth you perceive,
the one that is your own personal expression of it,
at that particular moment in time.

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