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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.

 

Little Knots of Yellow

The accelerator squeals
like an excited teenage fan
decelerating up the hill
all shrill and grating

Then the inward gasp
of childish awe
spread underneath
the tarmac ribbon crest
of Bradford's undulating sprawl

Through misty drizzle
little knots of yellow lights
sparkling beams of safety
in the dark swathes
scrunched up bundles
of grey woolpack hills

Northern Lights in vaulted skies
Northern electric lights
in pitiless winter washes

The Horizertical Gravitational Entities

Transitions have me weighed down
anchoring me to what’s next.
The “pull” has the internal velocity of a curve-ball,

yet, is as subtle as an insincere glimmer
having trouble appearing from a falsly executed smile.

I guess, they're sort of like an army of horizertical, gravitational entities
that pull down on my very being, and simultaneously hurl me towards the future,
to a place where all we know is, anything can happen!

Is this My Life?

I’m a downtrodden wife
his trouble and strife
Is this my life?

He doesn’t help with chores
in between snores
says “ask her indoors”

The kids avoid him
I fulfil their whims
no point in asking him

I don’t know why he married me?
I could never be
what he wanted me to be

I’m never good enough
he says I look rough
so no more sex stuff

I wanted to work
but the chauvinistic jerk
wouldn’t allow this perk

Poem: Enjoy This Season

Withering grass of this season
with your abundance of green,
take advantage of Today -
Contribute to this Earthly scene.

Enjoy your present strength;
ignore worries of the past.
Let the distant failures fade
and let sweeter memories last.

Be true to yourself always,
standing tall and strong.
Focus on your own meadows and...
Learn to hum to Life's song.

 

  

Author Note:

sweet words always ring

a tone of joy
even in mundane
but your words give life to a living being
a soul to enjoy

sweet words always ring

above all the world is
and should be,
if not ought to be
made by strings of human
as human as you
and friend of all Neopoets
yes so true ..
its been long since we spoke

D i v i n a t i o n .. a d o r e ..

moon light walks the floor
this haze walking
the fog of light beneath the door

this flight we live
our life like wings
draped against the perfumed
slumber skin
the warmth of sheets
a skein against us

folded in its corners like secret ideals

SECONDS' FOOTFALLS

I hear between the tics and tocs,
in bed within the depth of night,
from both the hall and mantle clocks
the sound of running feet so slight
so quiet that they must wear socks.

To hear them one must listen fast
they follow on time's tics so swift
each step there...and then it's passed
flashed into some sort of rift
as present moves into the past.

disillusion

a long cold season of gray
suddenly
a sunbeam pierces the clouds

why did I not expect it?

maybe predisposition
continually succumbing
to disillusion

but then, THWACK!
smacked blindside

once again,
ambushed by
eureka, joy,
and a boisterous
hallelujah

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

her ecstatic moments..

to enjoy your poetry
I had to take some time off

to visit Google helper
to help improve my vocabulary
though I through cerebral powers
understood the import
but confirmation of the insider’s views had to be sought
ere I commented with an iced intelligence

I must say a poet must ensure
that dwarfed minds like mine
need not borrow
greater ones' ..
in order to relish the wee moments
as they burst in ecstasy
the desire of any muse

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