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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 Child Is Father Of The Man

The wistful gaze of the child
thoughts so pure, actions mild
untainted by life’s cruelty
lost in innocent revelry

I admire their guileless devotion
motivated by simple emotion
a generous hug, a cheek kiss
every day they fill me with bliss

I wish I could see through their eyes
no hatred filled thoughts, no guise
sadness has not yet blotted their heart
honour, integrity still intact

LOST BLUE

The blue has seeped away now, no reds or greens to see,
the day has turned to winter's darkened grey,
the fitful gusts are those of northern winds,
the flakes, they fall just one by one apart,
the art of poetry cannot declaim their presence in the park,
each landing on the rivers edge, the stream
where dissipating they remain a dreamed reality
only a substance we assume is there its white totality,
where life of fish and frogs are hidden, never seen.

I need sweets

help!!
i'm running out of sugar
yeah,
the one that makes life taste better
the color!!
it doesn't really matter
it could be white or brown
or of lavender

anything that'd sweeten my days
when they taste bitter and sour.

What a wondrous godforsaken hellish
cold place, to get committable…

Precious pieces in patterns perfect,
that’s how they made the tree of Yew.
Then wooden seating for sitting silent,
please if you dare, sit down, take a pew.

I have no truck with god or religion,
but that don’t mean I’m morally bad.
Can’t see the point, I think it’s a con
to worship a leader in a draughty pad. Fad.

Devotion

We have to rebirth,
the soul of this planet
praying it be cleansed
and gentled evermore,
but as nails keep piercing
hands reach to smooth
her scared shroud

It has to be worshipped
like the apostle to the apostles,
but with a feast of celebration
everyday, dressed in her finest,
she must be read and chronicled
by scribes across the ages

This poem fights each word

This
Poem
No muscle blood or flesh
Just this irritating
Nothingness
A mouth without a head
Whining constantly for food
Never adequately fed
Demanding all the time for more-
But will not lift or sing
Or even form
Some perfect thing

Just a grumblement of words-
That make no sense
An incoherent mess-
No poem here at all
But will not let me rest
Some manipulative lover this
An ill fitting bastard of a friend
Forcing words
Which
Never
Seem
To

End

EPICANTHUS DREAM

Wipers play
"so young"
and the rivets shake
with the afternoon freight
across Thunderbridge
and a dream shatters
like a breath through
the crystal flakes
braking down from the
ragged clouds
atop the town

the seeking light
its golden rays
catching windows
and sleeping cats
and icy attics
empty of bats

snowflakes pause
on your eyelids
quietly you step
along
past windowshops
and the townhall
clock

"Haute Cuisine"...

The woman and her boyfriend
were looking for a mark
A robust, dark and handsome man
was sitting in the park

Killer disappointed
no vacant hotel rooms
sat on the bench and brooded
Whistled tuneless tunes

His baggage in a pile
all around his feet
marked him for a fish
these two cats could eat

Hey Monsieur, you look so glum
what’s the matter here?
Killer says; I’ve got no room
and I really need a beer

SUNDOWNING

SUNDOWNING

I am geometry in slow motion
straight lines and right angles.
I move my body with great precision
in time and space decisions.
but with the falling of the sun
Affliction rises from the dark and deep
to violate my dignity again.
I become a puppet on a broken string
floundering in my flawed humanity….

THE DARK SIDE(complete)

THE DARK SIDE

INTRO.
Guess we all have a Dark Side but don't let it show,
Much prefer screams of laughter to screams from below
But I should let it out for some air, in the night.
Mustn't let it roam free though (huge teeth! what a bite!)

My Dark Side has taken and twisted my thinking,
I try to make sense of this world but it's stinking;
A pungent miasma from old good intentions.
With rancid assistance that needs disinfection.

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