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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 SASKWATCH

THE SASKWATCH

Now if you sit quietly, and don't make a fuss,
I'll tell you a story, for no one but us.
About a strange creature, who came from the woods,
A creature who'd wreck our good lives if he could

For I was quite young then, and ran with the pack.
We were all timber wolves and we'd HOWL and we'd BARK
And how the men feared us, for we were so strong.
We hunted the deer, (and some men - was that wrong?)

Syllabus

Leaning with my tousled
head the morning like
a gin cloud

my girl speaks in alphabets
her voice a tainted angel
loud

A tinsel tack with money
back the dealers out of town
and were riding 6B junction
down to the suicide corner
out of town

all of the plans arise and
fall sound of tenant television
in the halls

shes wearing day old Bergamot
the paisley shirt
the tired skirt

the hot expanse of morning
sun glints off chrome

Let The Blind See (after all It’s one of his miracles)

What blindness god bestows,
on such a stupid race as mine.
No light from this man glows,
still they swallow every line.

Can none but your sinners see,
how false and greedy is his house.
How much better life would be,
if his enlightenment we’d douse.

There’s no fairness off vicar or priest,
when they pass out his goodwill.
Political wealth controls his beast,
while a poor man’s life stands still.

The Quest of Two Mavericks, Similar

The scenery blusters by up close
and in the distance, the hills are but walls
and neither adds nor subtracts from anticipation.

The destination always receives “top billing”
however, commaderie with one’s companions…
and the destination pale in it’s comparison to, the journey.

Color my eyes with landscapes a plenty…
buffer my personality with yours,
and let’s augment the wait and duration with that of a kaleidoscope;

for we, and we alone own the hours,
our moments in waiting
to arrive “fresh”, into the future.

a la divorce

okay then divorce!

having studied humanity across the internet, and world,
I have come to just a single observation
on divorce….
women want as much independence as men
at times they are better too,
but men can't take it down lying
so to say,
thus they their spouses way lay….

more than the ego bash
which enforces clash
it’s the construction of the human form…
they say by divine….

women get convulsions owing to hormones,
while men having two heads
listen to just one, the lower

Dangerous Game

I am a powerless pawn
In a dangerous game
I am only a victim,
With no reason or name
I am his captive
He holds my fate
My future looks bleak
As he closes the gate
No one can see this
No one but me
My bonds are invisible
They think I am free
But loving him
Is not a choice
It’s demand on my heart
It strangles my voice
I live in terror
I fear the worst
And although he assures me
That I’ll never be hurt
I don’t believe him
He’s said this before

t o u r n a m e n t ..

dead cigarette poised on the window
the brass dirty latch
There are stars hoisted
on the rusty chains of sin
and a Radio station
hisses faint music
through a missing tooth

crave through me sultry
wire
this damned winter desire
cascades boldly slowly
past the windows tall
and aged

Gated (shark pool show and tell)

nice little town you've got here

...too fucking nice!

something's off
hinky
wrong

a league of live large liars,
deep under glossy lawyered cover-ups,
splashing white picket defences
with thick slick ivy veiling elocution

chambers of societies,
(those good ol' boys of legend),
siccing macho maddened
barrel bottom mercenaries
on any, and all, interlopers
of their Private America

a dreamtown
van winkled
refusing to come of age

at eighty two will you...

SEX AT EIGHTY TWO
WILL DO! .....................some one said it....

at your age
you'd love to hear ...
nothing but lies
as you lie trapped
between lifeless thighs

but glad you do
when as grand fathers
mostly abandon...
they think they all are done

you have the verve
and
nerve,
to think twill still rise
it’s a surmise

at eighty-two something...
all say none can do ...

glad you hope to..
soon dad,
grand one I shall join you...

Madmen, Seers, and Fools

Madmen, seers, and fools [2]

In the light of night
I saw angels play
and daemons bay
at the moon
wonders of a madman’s dream
or eyes of a seer or fool
piercing through
into
galaxies of the mind

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