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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.

 

Without money

You are dead without money
Familiar as the saying goes
Visitations bring strange sad tales
With the loss of clout to purchase
Self confidence starts to erode
Stagnant shadow grows tall from base
Time ticks, the world moves on with it

You are dead without money
You know it is not really true
With breathe and health, the mind assigns
Instinct of self preservation
Exchange battered into money
Resources are sold on demand
The lazy man dies of hunger

in a pocketful of dreams

around her finger lies a rainbow's vow
that promised her a silvery-golden moon
still, after all the years spent, even now
around her finger lies a rainbow's vow
bestowed by one in history kept, somehow
within a telegram's curt words of doom
around her finger lies a rainbow's vow
that promised her a silvery-golden moon

Xmas Doldrums

Xmas Doldrums

Are we ever to be rid of
the parasite called royal.
They’re attached to the
wealth of our country
like skin to a boil.
Unwanted by most of
the needy crowd, the voice
of the poor crushed if
it appears to loud.

Their incessant greed
is unmatched, it is a
heartless but not
a modern crime.
No austerity gripping
their greatness for
their plans had already
hatched. It was their
most sadistic of all
reign time.

if only 'twere my hands....

I would've be able to answer you
touch me not
for the love of life,
my hands are scorching bloody white hot

you seem to touch many a hands
never mind

I hate one night stands
Not that I profess others to ignore

sex is loving
for only true lovers for sure…
if you are one
hold her hand
but only if till you can stand

if there is no vulgarity
serenity is all we look into it...
its naturality
and sexiness shall be privy

please note
wonderful edit by Ian

A Miracle

I'm having a miracle
Wow, what a thrill
my husband's over the moon
smiling broadly like a loon
to me pregnancy is a pain
all this weight I've had to gain
seems I have to bloom
because I've a full womb
people patting my belly as if its their's
rubbing away all my cares
I've two months to go
time passing so slow
then there's the labour
epidural my saviour
midwife fiddling with my bits and bobs
checking temperature, taking swabs

denesity

I thought we topped out
When we first said I do
How could two love each other more?
How could two possess such allure?
Adore you, I do
So blessed am I
To have you
For if possible, this love could cause me to need crutches
Cause that’s how strong my crush is
For you
At least was
Before it became more, now it’s just love
Two hearts, one US
From a first kiss
To a rush
From lust
Came trust
And so it was
You and me
Became “we”
Finally

NEW FANGLED...................

Hiphop, grunge , punk and rap
I guess I'm getting old
to me it all sounds just like crap
if I might be so bold

Computers built into the cars
and no more plain old carburators
asphalt instead of stone and tar
I'm a fuel injector hater

"Hooking up" instead of dating
when did men stop opening doors?
having babies without mating
calling all your girlfriends whores

m e t r o n i d a z o l e . . . .

VOS QUE

airliners shed sunlight
pierce heaving slight
the flit ghost lock

Tender there against the
adrenal temps

there are tempers of
madness dripping
the loose mind connections

shivers thin sheaves
tinfoil emollient

roam room rotations
and the steady moment
clarity like a thousand
foot fall opens up
like a smile

Ashes

Ashes of a misspent youth
memories of words uncouth
actions of an ignorant brute
respect didn't mean a hoot

Flames of wisdom slowly burn
the wheels of maturity slowly turn
others misfortunes I no longer scorn
seeking advice which I used to spurn

Gate Gate Paragate

Ravi played the sitar and
George's guitar wept....

I am not fond of farewells nor
of passages in and out of worlds
I barely know. There are hands
that hold the loam of fecund earth, there is sunshine
in the pockets of those amoung us, rising.
Rising again. Again.
In music, there can be no believers,
There are no earth-bound hostages in its
sound.

~~~~

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