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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.

 

Heroes

I wish heroes exist.
With that problems are less
I am saved every day.
It would be a great deal of security,
to see them flying on schedule.
They would kill all the villains,
and dedicate the battle to me.
They will never die because
They have super powers,
They are immortal...
They live to protect me.
But I only watch my heroes on TV.

Empathy

Our reality a causality of the sedation of the human mind and the human heart,
The closed eyes trained to see nothing but what is presented upon a TV screen,
The broken anvil of our ear unable to hear the crashing hammer screams,
The screams that cry out for the shattered dreams, the forgotten Utopian ideals,
Our touch deadened and kept at arm’s length, each end of a handshake,
Gone is the embrace showing love for the fellow man, only power-grip remains,
We care only enough to be convenient, we don’t care enough to fight for children maimed,

s c h i s t

sunlight pours
dust waves
bowl

thorn ridden scars
borne fresh with limbed
sighs

pressed like trophy birds
tossed
on a grey eden

promises
held together with
alleyway stitchs
this sway
descending staircase
juncture

this depths pressure
against each breath
like cool
decipher
pearled on the tidy
darkness

flickers of recognizance
in the light
emotion fulfilled
in the charged atmosphere
of our older shadows

Quit or quite!

nice anger displayed
at a lover who crosses your way

and
Have signs to betray
and
take you astray,
if only you meant quit
to say
and
not remain quiet
till this final day

love is in the air
all in war and love is fair,
give him another chance
if you may

or
else quit immediately
as you now say

so do it right away
but not repent
anymore after today
quit if you wish to
just as you may

Not Again! (Naked emotion, truth and originality WS)

You've always been the pen
that wears my weary thoughts
and turns them into words~
cool and warm,

the umbrella
that protects my head
from bad weathers
and from rain,

the pillow
that holds up
my dreams
and releases
the strain.

Now you're not here;
absent and far away,
my words feel cold,
I'm weak, tired
and soaked in pain.

lazy bairn are born of the flightless stork

an angry face of four and twenty
slacked, defeated
eroded by karma's vengeful smacks
and disappointment's relentless howl

as he would say

a luck insurmountable
dragging, yanking
incomparably worse by far
than joan d'arc's own standards

as he'd tell it

each red light an opportunity
that's shooed at every green,
hope at every shared glance
met with cold closed window,
unsated, his hungry hand
stays

as his story goes

Clock

I do not like it.
Everyday it has that cold stare.
I want to break it to pieces.
I want it unrepairable.

It lives in my room,
hanging comfortably on my wall.
Disturbingly circle,
round round round.

The dawn came when I finally decided,
to kill the demon.
I smashed it to the wall,
'till it was no longer recognizable.

I had my sleep.
I woke up without worry .
I was relaxed and happy
...until I saw another one hanging.

At times I feel

the power of drugs
be it kids stuff
or
docs medicine
overpowers some

and
words flow as if from no where
mind vomits its hidden essence
as the stomach churns

then we feel all inside out burns

god knows
who did what and when
many can't even say amen
but your thoughts are no omen

they come alive like lightning eyes
and
shear guys minds
my greatest one over here..
hope you do still hear
if not endear...

Poem: Used For His Glory

The Body is composed of many parts
and it needs your gifting of talents;
open up your spirit and heart…

to provide God with holy service.
Don’t waste your earthly talents
with hardness of heart or disservice.

Find your identity in Christ!
Feed on the fullness of His Word
and enjoy His eternal Life!

Become part of Heaven’s story,
by allowing yourself to be…
Used for His Glory.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:

Though I'm a woman

I don't understand my own sex,
sometimes.

In India and China, girl babies
do not hold their value like rupees
and yen. Hardly more
in other places, behind burqas
and desks and military posts
and kitchens with three children
clinging and a husband emotionally
absent.

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