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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 Altar

The sacred hearts of old women
deserve to be worshiped on
an altar of reverence and dignity,
anointed with oils and earnest tears.

For here are stored the true memories
and secrets and dictates of life.
Old women know the power of the
universe, and the human heart.

Within those chambered nautilises
lies the answer to the humble paradoxes
of living and dying, hating and loving,
and the Sanskrit of ages passing.

Three Poems of 8/8/12

1. Time and Space is an Illusion

For three days she and her tribe
wandered from star to star,
they saw many moons rising and falling
from the center of the universe.
Near the end of their journey,
their silence became overwhelming:
Earth had come into view, and the
blue-green dot was amazing, its white
encapsulating the sea foam they had
read about a thousand centuries ago,
before they had set out to discover
the only planet that was worshiped from afar,
for they were the first of their kind.

progressive poetry....Neopoets gift

BY JESS''''I wasn't pre-empting when I said recently your poetry is getting better.
I was right. I think you are putting more thought into it.''''''

You have shown me the right path
into that tunnel of darkness
I groped all life long
now I wouldn't let you go
for the remaining life
which ain't
I suppose is too long ...

Illuminated

In garb drab, and cold, cold room
a hand dips brush in gold..
Transforms a sheet of vellum smooth
to story, lovely told.
.
Head bent low in candlelight
his hunger never fed,
for though this man of God has food
art takes it's place instead.
.
Notes not he, the winter chill
as he draws vines and flowers.
Concentrating in such depth,
his prayers are for hours.
.
That he may stay in his small cell
and finely draw the letters.
He lives a life colored so bright,

Answers? There....

Answers? There...
-
answers? there
30 years devoid of air
clouds pushing low to ground
I am found, I am found
in a basement in Ohio
for fear of storm
the norm, the norm
-
I felt the blade on my forehead
briefly but
the cheers and dread
were mixed
I did the job
fixed up
free
called
debauchery
or whatever you like
the spike, the pike, the microphone
the words turn like
a telephone............................one way
-
another day

OMEN

After something extra normal happens
Often, you hear people claim to be seers
They saw the sign and knew it was coming
Yet, they did nothing to avert teardrops

The crow we heard close-by implied a loss
A portent call from the underworld spirits
A family mourned one of theirs at noon
So we called the guiltless bird evil envoy

Entrenched fearful belief of our people
Children chase the birds away with stones
Go to where there are many wooden spoons
They shout, another ill death is averted

dysphoria

veils
cloyed, weighted
with a waxed nothingness of want
incite a niggling, ephemeral knowledge

so my heart lifts higher

not to reach joy
but to clog and silence

gag the very part of me
that could sing
.

Your Glow

Your Glow

Starlight doesn’t disperse shadows in my mind.
They point to those places that we should find
Peace that transcends each hour of the night
The shadows will stay until new daylight.

Hold us here from this our shadows glare
I am so frightened we will be lost there
Thank you my love I can now feel your glow.
This is where, with your love I want to go.

In love together we could always be
Just you and me, both, being completely free
Now hold me as I feel the morning warm.
I am in essence, beautifully reborn.

Sometimes, at times...

sometimes when I read others grumble
I too tumble
but then I compose my off cuffy ones …
some senselessness ones
this is such a one…
still you love it
that's the whole fun
poetry makes me smile
and I help others also follow me
those who cry
I shake them up too you see
just simply follow me
I am the master of free verse
off the cuff creative poetry
humour I must all of thee
which accomplish
very few poets like me.

No Longer Musing

The other day I called it in

to my office, from the hall;

it wasn't that my muse was, "off"

it wasn't doing anything, for any reason, at all !

At the onset I thought it was but, a tad tired;

and l thought l'd give it another day;

then l began realizing a listlessness

that was contagious, much to my dismay.

I spoke with the man at the pharmacy

who assured me that there was a cure;

and that, if it were not soon administered

there'd be consequences no poet could endure !

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