Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Home

Community News

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.

 

olympslondon

past is history
a story twas…
future will be tomorrow
when it comes
twill be today
so then there is in reality
no tomorrow we may say….
so all boils down to simplicity
of the present we have
and
betwixt history and future,
the salad we have
enlivens us our memories
which indelibly become ingrained
in the deep recesses of the human mind…
we may recall in the distant future,
if we so desire
but then all can't so live
in the present
but all of you

PRESTIDIGITATION

Prestidigitation

I’m not here to sing or dance
play a tune or do magic tricks
and if by chance
I speak my melancholy
it’s not how I want to be
but when that stillness comes
there is no where else to run.

Black Hillside

black hillside
-
I spat the blood, spewed the clotting
tongue out hanging metal spotting
eyes are swimming worlds are plotting
black green rotting black green rotting
-
My breastplate long had cleft in two
I'm yellow red and black and blue
I stare the hatred at a few
My eye on you, my eye on you
-
I bit the vein to show I would
I lit the train to show I could
I hacked the knee of giant wood
I fought each good, I fought each good
-
a fogbound day a folly stood

Bionomics

The verge emblazoned once with brush and trees -
the road to visit childhood - desolate
Encroaching farm undressed the land to seize
the verge emblazoned once with brush and trees
Here ignorance has caused the human species
to clear the land, allow the salt to make
the verge emblazoned once with brush and trees -
the road to visit childhood – desolate
.

WINGED ESCORT

So much morphine to block the pain...
I hope you dream of younger days
in your mind, strong running free again
instead of here in sterile haze.

Labored breathing, thanks cigarette,
heart monitor's monotonous beep;
a scene I never will forget
as dad approached his final sleep.

He gave me love of the outdoors;
now trapped here in this lifeless place.
He'd prefer duff, not polished floors
or fishing in a full tailrace.

Pleiades my Starship

On the other side of maybe
I meet a lot of folks
perhaps Jess will open the door
between the tiger and the lady
but you see there is nothing

not even the smile of a Cheshire cat
can disappear
inside a room too big
or too small
for gratitude
to enter
but if I'm right, a poet just might
slip through the cracks in its opening

Dreamscape

Dreamscape for you to see.
Would you expect more from me.
For walking in the clouds
Hold me gently in your mind

Leave all the unkind things behind
Run with the waters of mountain streams
Bubble oh bubble in love of dreams
Hold a picture in your mind

Of feelings felt sometimes
When heaven bows to the earth where I lay
A lonely person formed from clay
Touch my soul it’s the thing that goes on

Forever your hand in mine
Walk with me to infinity
Leave troubles that scar
Leave those days far behind

Wannabe

I want to be a poet again
and dissolve into the internet to change the world

It would be cool to be able to get up in the morning
and have martial arts like Bruce Lee

Soon I might wash and shave most days
and write the greatest novel ever written

Maybe I’ll take a walk for the hell of it
and spread a meme to end poverty

Yesterday I listened to an Anthony Robbins tape
(please don’t tell anyone)
and felt some general gratitude

Today I went to a great play with a friend
and wrote this.

Depths (revised)

Depths

Plunging...
Into the crystal clear pool
Many secrets hiding
Where the luscious sapphire water
Of lonely indigo yearning
Meets with aquatic forests
Of rich emerald velvet desire
to reveal a haven of acceptance
Where the starlit silence
Of her fairy childlike devotion
is pure and resplendent in a swirl of melding
This tide pool of loving...
The meridian of many an unchained soul

ain't no sonnet.....

you are a lovely sonneteer
the only thing about sonnets
I know is
that there are 14 lines,
last two must do a twist,
someone must read at least
lines of only five syllables,
stressed,
somehow that's all I know
about sonnet composing
my maiden one was laughed off
as free verse one
my own sense of creativity,
as on my broken down car’s bonnet
I sit composing a sonnet
hope they will laugh once again
but then this ain't
no sonnet
thanks friend

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.