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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.

 

walking the boards

amongst a cast of lead-supporting roles
though minus script, performance underway
without rehearsal, souls, not knowing goals
from cradle, muddle through, until croquet

mistakes recorded, frozen in forever
creating rippled footstepped lights of hours
to decorate the scars of great endeavour
before the tidal-wave of time devours

while back-stage in the recess of re-runs
imagination’s post-mortems beg change
to find the answers all returns as questions
the thing about this theatre that is strange

BITTER AND SWEET (rhyme patterns final version)

The birds sing in courtship's display
on this, the first warm day of spring
unfortunately the wasps are out
along with fire ant mounds of clay

Flowers' perfumes drift upon the breeze
along with my true love's faint scent
whose "look" tells me to cut the grass
and then trees' pollen makes her sneeze

And walking along a clear lake's shore
where the fair ones swim and ski
I glance down at my knobby knees
then look at the girls once more

Bunch of Needy People !

Misfortune searches for another like same
because misery loves company;

a challenge enjoys another challenger
but, needs a loser for a victory.

The wealthy really don't care for the rich
but, there are networks to be made;

the blue-blooded wealthy would rather ignore the rich
with the way they're always stealing the shade.

Complainers want something to complain about
someone else, must fit that bill;

the greedy are always hungry
but, they never get their fill.

Let go (Rhyme Patterns #1) Last edition

A true fact of life is:
It's not always black or white,
but a mix of this and that-right,
which is, I trust, a bliss.

So when the woes grow, swell
find a way to your young heart.
Let no pain incise that part,
let no troubles there dwell.

Clean the stains of hatred,
in love's sponge let all that go.
Wipe out the tears of sorrow,
time needs not be wasted.

Now, hurry up! come on dear
put your helpful hand in mine.
Ways with gold shall ever shine
when good intentions clear.

of stupidity!

he was stupid
his Stupidity ...
a word
we ought not to use in poetry

well the end was well for him
he having become a celebrity
only coz of his stupidity.

Some day perhaps
it may well be me,
as master here says
I too know
no fuckin' poetry
only he does perhaps
and
so who will miss me?
he or none
that we'll have to see
Albeit ,
I am sure to be remembered by many
including him
and
of course you too,
and
perhaps only you two

w a v e l e n g t h . . . a n g e l

sunlight filling up the store
falling in through window/door
falling on the angel there
adiorned in black
whom I adore

Pale skin and tiny hands
the flaxen hair
and tender smile

her eyes are the colour
of heaven
the soft radiant blue
a most amazing hue

PLAYMATES

Birds sing in the morning
More than some other times
To welcome a new day
They sing the glorious dawn
Joyful morning music
Some sat atop foliage
With pointed eyes gazing
At distant horizon
As if to see through time
What nebulous future may bring
Yet unperturbed by it

Littleton Revision 2
Ron BlueDemon77

Littleton, killed his son
why oh why, he put out his eye
the same day, all the skies went gray
the fever came, never was the same

sun's warmth gone, as his madness spawn
crops to silt, Redbeard lived his guilt
days of dark, nights of terror stark
tiny mound, jutting out of ground

Littleton, Redbeard thick with lice
maggots, rats, sharing habitats
every night, eyes shined with red light
at the door, child's voices implore

OBAMA

Oblivious to reality
Below average intellect
Aloof to folks like you and me
More radical than most expect
Angry to all who disagree

I'm Drinking Leave me alone

I told him to shut his gob
But he kept on, the stupid sod
I just wanted a quiet place to be
Why wouldn’t he stop pestering me?

No, I knew then, that he would have to go
The little shit ground into my soul
This world of his, he would leave behind
He then started on the mate of mine.

Now that was it, he’d left it too late.
He didn’t see me move my arm.
He was stupid, thought I couldn’t do harm
I felt the blade as I follow its arc.

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