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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.

 

BY YOUR LEAVE

Enfold me in your loving arms
and mould yourself against my chest.
I've long been captive to your charms
which far exceed all of the rest.

Let me smell your silken hair
like perfume of late autumn wine
which breeze sends flying everywhere
a halo burnished by sunshine.

Then thrill me with familiar form.
I've memorized each swell and curve
which on cold nights help keep me warm
a warmth I know I don't deserve.

In Woolies

A small boy cries, bird calling into the air.
I’m heart helped by his flower delicate face,
bamboo smooth then raw as meat,
his emotions entirely there.

Mums are preoccupied, abundance is a list.
Brows creased, they don’t look up,
their beauty worry worn.

I like the Muzak, whistle along,
wide eyed as a canary.
One aisle is traffic jammed.
and a little old man
waits like a garden gnome.
There should be dancing, the music's jaunty,
but no, only muted ‘excuse me’s’
as trolleys clash.

Oh! dad anyones

you are
more than what you are
a star
born star
each one...

in poetry the poets
never or rarely give one
you all hearts have won
and
I still live in hope

someday some moody poet
shall come by my way,

to say
Loved

how come so long
barren you did stay

my inner feelings for your dad......

I know how one feels
when one loses...
I lost mine decades since…

Compositions

Who am I?
I’ve never really known
I find myself in those moments
That bring me to my essence
Melancholy and innocence
Dark and Light
One in the north, one in the south
Through the east and through the west
On the surface it’s so hard
I myself seems very far
I find myself in those I love
All of them different, but all of them me
So who could I be?
I am not you, I am not you
Composed of such variety
Who is this, my entity
Difficult to pinpoint one source
Who is this, something more?

Carefree

Experienced darkness

enveloping blackness

I'm a blank canvas

death would be bliss

Memories haunt

enemies flaunt

dreams taunt

life I no longer want

Lost in a maze

a disturbed gaze

happiness no trace

hell I can face

Be happy for me

I'll be finally free

hold me in your memory

imagine me carefree

If Life Were Only Poetry

Oh, if life were only poetry!
I would fill my love’s cup
With yonder bright stars.
And make of her life
More of heaven then earth.
I would take from her flowing lips
The sweet charms of nippy kisses.
I’d watch her eyes flicker as a busy bee
As she takes in the nectar of a garden rose.
Oh, if only I could fill her cup
With the passions from my heart.
To endlessly write of her loveliness;
Yet, dwell in ever word penned.
Oh, if life were only poetry!

poets strugglers

poets strugglers

you are more than what you are

a star
born star…

in poetry the other poets
never or rarely give one

you all hearts have won
and
I still live in hope

someday some moody one

shall come by my way,
to say hello poet !

how come so long
barren you did stay

my inner feelings
for your dad
I know how one feels
when one loses one ...

I lost mine decades since…

Enedentian Epic: Canto III

Before the world was given hue,
ere mountain rose or forest grew,
and young was river under sky;
before the frost capped mountains high,
when young was leaf and new was root 5
and youthful brooks run round the foot
of hilly country, wide and far,
and lightened by the roaming star;
when wind would whisper with a voice
and grasses in response rejoiced, 10
the maiden's song, creation's strain
still could be heard. A sweet refrain.
Creation's strain, the maiden's song

The Void...

The void was wider than first appeared
Bigger and deeper than he had feared
Emptiness there, was all he could see
Sick to his soul, spewing debris

Who would know, what was happening then?
It was something quite beyond my ken
If only I had known... if he had let me in
Then I might have saved him from his sin

He disappeared, then came back one day
Wanted to know, if he’d been away
I couldn’t tell him, ‘cause I didn’t know
He’s my brother, but I didn’t see him go

BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS: Portuguese/ English

Trás-Os-Montes

faz um milhão de anos
parece
que deixei os vales
altos
trás os montes
altos
acima do mar
onde a lua amarêla pålida
faixas de vermelho escuro
sangra noite
e a chuva entristece dia
Há lugares nêste mundo
onde vai a natureza
a chorar a sua tristeza
lugares que seguem
o coração
onde quer que vai

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