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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.

 

Venus in Abalone

Venus in Abolone

At sunrise strolling whitecapped beach
all thoughts stray as seagull fly
mind pulled full from human reach
by mother ocean's lullaby

un-thoughts buried deep enough
that a flash bold caught the eye
pointed path on a different bluff
to see the flare under the sky

Imbedded, buried in tide's cruel rut
I pulled and it stubbornly, finally gave
slipped wet sand from it, I saw a form jut
from a shell iridescent, a motionless slave

Shadow

Your voice calls from the Dark

Whispers that haunt

                each flake of Snow

The wet kiss of the ice trails my cheek

The only truth,

                the ground with each step.

 

Your tongue darts the mind

Thoughts tortured

                with each stab of the Arctic wind

The warmth of my palms partially melts the ice

The true rest,

                The completeness of the Dark.

 

The wind marries the Dark

A silent Blizzard

I am nowhere and everywhere

SPRING FEVER (theory of relativity shop)

Sitting in a poplar's shade
on this late spring afternoon
while heat sends shimmers in the glade
summer time will be here soon

A drop of sweat dives off my nose
as I sip on a cold sweet tea
I can't shed any further clothes
for it would show too much of me

Bumbling bees provide a hum
as they pollinate the varied flowers
a toneless tone which leaves me numb
after hearing it for hours

CIRCLE--edit

CIRCLE

We who to this earth
are born
last as long
as it is by our nature
deemed
and from our beginnings strong
and bold
the seed in us grows too quickly old.
each day we begin to fade
and must leave behind
that which in us has died
and having gleaned what is left
we start all over again

Street Soldier Young

Street Soldier Young….

You didn’t have to die young soldier,
at the hands of those black hearted fools.
Would you have lived until you were older,
if our leaders learned to play by the rules.

They preach about prosperity and peace,
while starting wars all over our lands.
They’d rather have our power increase,
than look after the poor in our hands.

Does that idiot Duncan Smith even care,
ripping through our poor like a storm.
will he worry where to eat, what to wear,
no he’ll always have a buddy to keep warm.

see nature through my eyes

see nature through my eyes
and
as I sit at my window sill …..
pitter patters fall raindrops still ….
now the thunder comes roaring from far ….
thunder god is annoyed so far ….
then comes, another splash of lightening …
preceding, another thunderous volley….
flowers in the wind still dance about ….
in summer like spring, rains are welcome no doubt ….

but then it’s getting dark and cold ….
ere the sunrise hopefully tomorrow we are told
the flowers will in the wind blow …..
that will be a lovely show….

M u l l i o n ...................

Stray twins
astray
askance

paint dreamskins vanillin

late frieght calls down on the
nickel line
cresote and creekwater

restless like a trance
you shiver and stir
a newborn dream
crawling

down the history
ambrosia
up calf ridden inkwork
and hip frame

a whorl of navel
a shadowed breast

wind like the Jin Jin
blows
Ju Ju arrival
and your nest hair
spills
aflame
like a sunken dusk
a treasure glean

A Rhyming Sestina (theory of relativity workshop)

(in reference to ÇAÇÔ, Man of the Morning Star)

The strength of ideology as known
rests with the knowledge men shall seek a god.
A doctrine merely amplifies the tone
and makes a cult of anything so odd
as that which queerly contradicts one’s own,
for all else is to one’s belief a fraud.

River

Going down the river
The flow swaying with my rhythm
Forever young was the river
Sometimes I fought the current
Other times I let it take me
Diving into insanity
Gasping for reality
I feel myself going under
Inhaling water
Pray for me Jude
I don't want to drown just yet
The river has baptized me in fear
Stealing my breath
Then giving it back
Scrambling for air
Holding the edge
I am not lost yet
God hold my hand
Don't let me go under
Waters once so warm

Oh! purpose of life what!

there is absolutely no purpose to life
BUT
we have to make our lives purposeful
in order to fill up the vast void
between birth and death

some die very young and priests say
god loved then so took them away

some suffer all lifelong and wish to die
the priesty guy now says
god is punishing them that's why
they don't die

some have skipped the death queue
and crossed to over 100
then priests say god wanted them to stay
so that for the sake of ailing humanity
they longer do pray

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