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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.

 

THE CHOSEN--rewritten

THE CHOSEN

Where is the womb
that held me.
the voices
that comforted me
and the love
that saved me
from the beast within
that tears and rips
into nothingness..

Where is the old wisdom
that took away my fear.
Do the dead see and hear.

Is there a God who knows me.

The Blooming Sides of My Love

She sits right beside me

Delicate and earnest

Her stunning hair flowing

Like flowers in the breeze

And I believe that she is

More romantic than a rose

Puts on more charms than orchids

Expresses more passion than marigolds

And she is outright more beautiful

Than calla lilies

Though all these things I say

Are true to the naked eye

But one will not know

That she is more unstable than dahlias

For monkshood flowers should be present

Wherever she is

Phlox are sweet dreams

a truey poet

a poet true
is one who creates anew
and
treads not on the beaten path
already trod upon
you are one such one
that makes you ,
you…
a classic poet are you!

The Word Bomb...

The Word Bomb…

I want to build a bomb,
really build it well.
I want to make it large,
then climb inside it’s shell.
Make it safe for other creatures,
clever enough to blow us all to hell.
I’m ashamed to say I’m human,
on this planet that we dwell.

It mustn’t harm the children,
for they have yet to live.
Without the greedy adults,
maybe they’ll learn to give.
Perhaps the new beginning
will teach them a better way.
that even the tiniest creature,
has a right to have his day.

S u b t l e m a t i o n z ...

overlap
falling
see through like a ghost

we cycle through our walls
inflexible and tumbling
snowflakes
walls torn apart
by the ideal and principle
of war

Lifers we carrry on
dusted and bruised
bloodied with our
eyes
hooded

letters scented with home
Love strength
weakness

ghosts

the greatests power
spirits

rising like whitecaps
rushing towards
the hestitant future
so sure

What do you call it?!

 

What do you call it
that turns your life
upside down?
That makes your heart
belong to another one,
someone who becomes your day
your star and the sun.

You know!!

 That's when you've
 millions of things to say,
but choked with words,

you would probably say none

Lead

Take me quickly oh Lord
I commit myself to the sea
I commit myself to the endless rolling waves.
I commit my body oh Lord
my broken bones and my shattered heart
I commit myself to the vastness of the Sea.

Pour out my blood oh Lord
pour it out like cheap wine
pour it out like cheap, rancid wine.
let it mingle with the waves
let it merge with the currents
let it be a feast for the fish and the hungry gulls.

Parents Without Children...

Murderess and murderers
Such black and evil collusion
She as guilty as they,
There should be no illusion

Killer finds the address
Not too far away
He thinks he’ll make a visit
It must be today!

There are women lining up
No more babies for them now
Jobs and parties more important
“I cannot be a cow”

Killer has arrangements too
Obligations he will fill
To ‘Parents Without Children’
Taking kids that would be killed

Attempting to take Ian's Advice ;)

I know you hate to break the truth, my dear,
For me you no longer shed a tear.
You've never shown your love to me,
As far as my eyes and heart can see.

"Don't cry," I prayed,
I'll be here to stay,
If you return to me
Forever mine you'll be.

And if I fail to see your face,
You'll run away but I'll end the chase.
I'll tie you to my heart with cord,
But if you escape, I'll seize my sword.

M a r a c h i n o . . .

Ripe ruin
the wind on the wires wanders
cuddling attic ghosts

goosechill amplification

and the rain runs
spilling
from the dark overhanging
eave

from the thick trunked limbs
that harbour snow
and ice dew in February

glitter labrynths
groaning in the gusts
breaking the light of dusk

sticky whiskey kisses
adorn slick tiles
and a day falls
brilliant and hurting
a gash of breath
laying on a lake

sleeping beneath
heavens breadth
and a dreams
hitch

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