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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.

 

Kryptonite

Politicians never lie,
they just say what you
want to believe.

I don't want to believe my
eyes or ears. The world is being covered
with dirty water spilling from polluted mouths.
The sky is falling with intention to rob the intellect
and separate the body from its common sense. My
heart walks alone but

walking while black is serious business
in Florida.
They fixed what ain't broken, you know,
and tombstones
loom large on the horizon. Hit men in the making and

PORTRAIT

PORTRAIT

Who will care
when these walls are bare
and all I touched and held
is wrapped neatly away
fading into the years.

who will hold my memories
know what I know
keep my moments never shared
understand the silence
which belonged to me alone.

But I am metaphor and rhyme
the music of verse
the movement of thought
from beginning to end
muted eloquence and grace.

I have been
and I will always be
I am the poetry
that is life

Impostor

Thoughts don’t stop at red lights
Once more I sleep with self-doubt
If this is strength, I’d rather be weak

I go to war with my own mind
Another casualty to friendly fire
Every night I sit at the café
Where the scene plays again

My heart races as my mind
Becomes a prostitute to fears
And all I can do is resort to tears

Right about now I want to slither
Into the prison of silence
As my skin becomes
And old torn coat

S E D A S H U N Z

ground tremble
thunder
a stillness rushs
rising up like dust

fingers of amber
poised like jewels

discarded parties
woven
meangingful
and meaningless

chipped corners
and scarred forelegs

like rain limps
dream trips

archive scatter
the black velvet
ghosts

the claws on cold
tile
make good shivers
while a moon
sharp as a shiv
shines through
the torn curtian
bright as a sliver

Wilted Rose

Porcelain vase
cold and alone.
Once filled with
life's water
now runs dry.

Shriveled petals
black edges formed
breaking from neglect.
Weeping tears of blood
with every snap.

Once upon a time
she had been beautiful,
stood out from all the rest.
So they chose her,
picked her from the pack...

A symbol of love
now faded
like her luster.
External beauty
has escaped.

Today's Great Undead Poets

Today’s great undead poets,
awash in the internet sea,
seek to fill the void of sensible emptiness
of our cyberspace world.
Following the heroic tradition of Man,
these daring individuals look to gain acceptance
through the expression of concepts.
Mirroring the virility and vitality of Life,
in defiance of critical naysayers,
the blankness of virtual paper
is scribbled upon with hurt, hope and ideals.
Writing styles and topics,
whether expressed in romanticized language

Seasonal changes in one's life.
give way to fresher encounters
all our lives
else life would have been
a monotonous rose
if it had no colors
nor variety
I suppose

the sun needs to show more worth
by giving nature a newer birth
and the rains ought to wash away
what you may call sin

the nudity,
stark nakedness autumn gives
must be once again recovered
as did Adam and Eve

so life's humanity and dignity
forever remains constant
yet not absolutely still

Cemetery Gates

Cemetery gates
swing open wide.
Beckoning me
to step inside.

Rusted, wrought iron
hinges that squeak.
Through the veils
I amble,
unable to speak.

Yew trees bending
with wear and tear
on lifeless limbs
I float, unaware

Beaches thick with ash
wash away
as black waves
of memories crash!

With a halt,
my body comes to rest
a wooden box closes
upon my chest.

Beneath the ground
is now my home
until my spirit begins to roam....

even the rogue child is loved

I was the child

that made you old,

I was also the girl

that couldn't be told

 

I was a rogue wave

and couldnt see 'now,'

that was I cherished

I'll never know how

 

when you went away

without word or a sigh,

I was forever bereft

we didn't get a goodbye

 

over time I've painted

my pictures in words,

I cried out my heart

in the differing verbs

 

I wish I could harness

and saddle a star

and fly to your side

but your so very far

Night Garden

When the moon grows to a fullness
of tunnel's beckoning silver end
I move through many things I grow
to feel sweet feather kisses
of breathing darkness on my skin,

and down between tall rows of corn
and pungent onion scent I kneel
to reach beneath wide prickly leaves
and test with touch the ripeness of
the treasure of my summer squash.

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