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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.

 

underneath the quiet hiss
a velvet murmer
kiss

violet persona
lands crystal perfection
melting like a tear

pure flake
a jewel ball
to delve

a place of haunt
to dwell

Euclidian Squares

manicured vision-scapes;
nature trimmed into straight lines
and angles, sharp, clean, respectable.

obviously, to the symetric eyed,
it is the preferred version.
.
such a squared-away world
is not a place for me to be.
I'm a cock-eyed slob of a caretaker
indeed, a zenish-zoned snob
with my own rustic code
...let it go, let it grow, let it flow.

unkempt means time unspent
on policing tendencies
of leaves to blow
snow to fall
grass to grow

Happily Silent

I would like to be content with my own company
but often dissatisfied with me
to sit with myself, silent
is an act I think I’d repent

I’m not confident in my opinion
in my comfort zone being a minion
of my own worth, I’m not singing
my self-esteem issues loudly ringing

My poetry makes me feel free
but I’m safe in relative anonymity
wish I could speak to my soul
whisper sweet-nothings, make it feel whole

DIGITAL SURF

Zero and one
it's off or on
from such simplistic seed
sprouted that which we all need

All from a building block of sand
imbued with purposed imperfections
came this virtual world so grand
allowing our world wide connections

Off and on
now off....................

The Smoke of Evening Fires

The Smoke of Evening Fires

Lord, how many times have I climbed this hill?
the road seems stonier, steeper. How can that be?
I’ll rest here a while,
watch the low sun trail shadows
over the rich bottom lands
and the white church beyond the bridge.
The shouts and laughter of children
from the river, rise soft on the evening air.

I'll Read Your Smile

I read your smile
there is nothing lovelier
to me than
that gap between
nose and chin

It lights you up
the handsome version
with good teeth
that you've always been

I noticed your smile
before I noticed
your shoulders
head
hair
guile

Other women do too
when you jet off
on corporate jaunts
I fret the smile won't
be for me alone

But you return
all smiles
all manly
all delicious
like crisp apple plump

ONCE AND AGAIN (show and tell-Shark Pool)

When comes the spring, the flowers blush
with every color artists brush,
they call the bees and flies with wing,
the flowers blush when comes the spring.

The pollens pass with peaceful breeze,
then fly away and land in ease,
to start a life in numbers-mass
with peaceful breeze, the pollens pass.

The cycle goes once and again.
More flowers bloom to blaze the plain.
The incense's rich, it feeds the nose
once and again the cycle goes.

Fedora on the rack....

obsolescence, left eye pressure
another night sprawled on the worn desk top
the pleasure of freedom and two fisted appeal
seeping away these last 40 years
in days past a woman would wake me
afraid, needing a stiff spine and a steady gun hand
I would've drawn my hands through my thick hair
and sleepily, squint-eyed assessed her, drank
a 12 hour old coffee and bourbon and eased
her fear with steel and gun-metal eyes
with the flip of cosmic switch
no femme fatales left and a bald pate

Flapping Maps

seeking bluebirds,
those feathery nose tickling
variety of myth,
I board,
in pith and khaki,
a junk van
packed light for flight.
running on hot
rattles of hope
scratched aviators
and a new plastic identity

mirror cracks,
kaleidoscoping
the back-side of motion,
scatter the rain pretty
mud flaps, caked with
the debris of a muddled past
ragged and worn,
fall by the wayside

a hard-nosed cynic
is disappearing

there
ahead
somewhere

FEBRUARY THOUGHTS

In deepest winter yet I walk
among my friends now all stripped bare
as time continues its slow stalk,
that lone hunter we all share,
but he's forgotten on this day.

For I've come here to escape time
as chill winds toss scant clouds about
and outlines puddles with thin rime
in low spots all along my route,
a logging road of frozen clay.

Until I find a favorite spot
a low bluff over middling stream
a place I think by most forgot
a perfect place to sit and dream
to listen to the pine trees sway.

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