Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Home

Community News

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.

 

Dave's Not Here...

Killer needed a new tool
So He went to Dave’s Not Here
A thing for slow and tortuous death
A thing instilling primal fear

There was a special date real soon
He wanted something to impress
She is a special lady friend
Can’t wait to see her in a dress!

Now Dave is up for some inventing
But let’s have coffee and a joint
I’d like to wake and bake a little
before we get down to the point

S e b a s t s h u n

sits on her royal haunches
dark saucer ovid watcher
and offers a submission
climbs aboard my haunted frame
her short shorn look
and leans her muscle clad
throat against
my chest
where my heart sings

my hand floats like a searching
ghost
and settles on her spine
on the union where her dark wings
gather

we are both weary
brokering our deals
beneath auspicious
sweat stained days

Soul (rewrite of Scott's poem) by Ron BlueDemon77

Scott's -------------------------------------------------------------Ron's

the lines on my face --------------------------------------- the mapwork furrowed
tell a furlong tale ----------------------------------------------- on my face will spell
no thought dare erase ----------------------------------- each loss a burrow

sad but true

I saw myself meandering through those streets
which once were the lovely galleries of time…

age has ruined the lame,
as always
and
upon the lacerations of time on poor skins
we new lives want to begin
sad as it may appear

but what will they do
for whom solution of poverty is dear,
money dearer too

they can only bark at those already down trodden,
what else can they do
but to let ruins be the final outcome,

Corset

strung taught
temptress gleans an edge
hovering above holy
to the surrendered one

paten shines
glistening wet with adore
pain the welcome price
grail reachable

aflame
candles upon the alter
offer reverence

flagellation
mind body unite
explosion
cosmos condones
this petty flight

Canto Twelve ~ The storm is in its last hours as Gundhag races to the battlefield.

All the region is aware of the tumult caused by the boy and his ill contrived adventure. Few, if any, might understand. Legionnaires scattered about the countryside huddle fearfully in campsites. Their original purpose was to collect resource materiel left behind in combat. Some of them now await more than the storm’s end.

A terrified cry emanating from the monster has brought the witch quickly and without customary store of tools mystical or otherwise.

Strip Poker

The King Of Hearts
sits 'round the table.
Shuffling, cutting and dealing
he lights another.

The Jack of All Spades
too drunk to play,
oggles the women
as he lifts his shot glass

Ace of Clubs
rolls his eyes.
Come on losers
we're playing cards
not the grab ass game.

Emerging from her corner booth
she eyes them all.
Hips swaying, breasts bouncing
six inch heels tapping on the floor.

potential

There used to me
there used to be her
others would concur
we'd always be together, travelling the town
dream one day to travel 'round
unravelling the rubble of our trouble love
from the first day fitting like my leather gloves
now it's winter and I don't have her
now it's winter and she don't have me
the days pass, some fruit, some glumly
she gotta pay her debts, elementary
while I push back regrets to try and fly from this tree
what we share in common? Life's a mystery

Ethereal Intwination

Rembranches reaching through
Heavenly hollows in the clouds
Tranquilly shaping unguided thoughts
of gardens in vasettes
deeply set in delerium

ONE DAY I'LL GO TOO

Stopping beside a new clear cut
which wasn't here last week.
Old logging road's a skidder's rut.
Life's blood of pine stumps leak
perfuming this new ruin's air.

Weather is southern summer hot.
A whirlwind raises memories;
ghosts of where game once was sought
on land once shaded by tall trees.
Mixed woods that are no longer there.

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.