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.

 

futuristic sexuality

accept the pragmatism of time today ...
guys only love ...
since times immemorial to play ...
today you are trying to pin them down ...
for a while may be or you shall win....

but a time will come again ...
when men will ride all over again and again...
as living- in becomes the norm ....
women want orgasm..
which grand-moms having foregone...

THE SHIELD

THE SHIELD

The moon was but a clouded gleam,
Its fitful light both cold and dreary,
We heard a hunting sasquatch scream
But could not run, so drained and weary.

Our group, the last of man's resistance,
Were no more than a hundred strong.
The Dark One challenged our existence,
His Orcs and wolves came chasing on.

Each bloody battle fought for homeland
Left fields of dead at such a cost
Kings and Nobles slain, we nomads
Running northwards, broken, lost.

Privatizing dreams outside the lines

there is a gap of returning green
between tulip leaves and starling flocks
February grey, like the new school building
on West 28th street obscures the sky

architects build squares on top of rectangles
assemble their plans where
place can be an embellished form of reason abstracted
from colors fragility to light-

sit still
the halls are lonely

....worth.......

slick backed visage
streaming shower
stop

like candles
burning fluently
as caresses
smooth as flesh

A Sojourn

I am on this train
It is called life
It is never late
Reaching its destination

The journey
Is what you make of it.
The people you meet
The outside you see

The inside
that you see or not
To all an exprience
they remember.

Knowing the journey
A reason to travel
Distance no object
Destination unsure

Then that station
you are going to.
A place so new
The many questions

Then that first step

The Runaway

The streets are silent as I walk
Listening to the midnight talk
My sneakers fall on broken glass
Scattered shards, just like my past

In their houses, they sleep unknowing
Above the trees the light is growing
In the sky there is no moon
It will be daylight, pretty soon

Only darkness feels my pain
In the sun I can’t remain
No, in the daylight I can’t stay
Because I am
The Runaway

i am ready for your crushing blow

break my jaw

slam your fist into my teeth

and, smiling,

i will be sure to thank you

for at least being honest

and saying something to my face

for once.

Fetish fascination

Why does the slipper thrill you so?
Does the thigh sock make you rub down low?
And the whip brings you out in a right old sweat
The thought of the leather thong a frequent pest
What makes you warm in the parts down below?
Why do lace knickers give you a glow?
I will never understand the grip of the fetish
Some of them just make me feel so squeamish

where I live …you can't imagine …what it is like to be in heaven
the wind is free
the sun shines all day and night…
there is no need of a moon
where I live it’s like a fountain of love
all come here to swoon

Oh my friend all that I now can say
come home to heaven soon…

twill be a boon

the frustration and meditation,
the need for salutation …
recognition and the lust of all
that is tuned as sexual
all will be forgotten soon

FUSCIA

tangle in the wind
his dreams and hopes
like steam
as mists

and covered in the light veil
of rain
in his brow
on his beard

his misses the turbid
moments
off the north sea
pulling on the oars

they glide in the swells
cupped by the hand of
the ocean

there is hope today
soothed by mead
by lamb

and laughter

Pages

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