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.

 

Colors without Hues ..(Rhyme Crimes WS.Assign 4)

Ah! How blue I am without you,
my colors have lost that vivid hue.
Dark black become my days
and hazy grey paints through my ways.
No light of hope, but fading whites
daily grow with misty twilights.
Greens no more pass my meadows,
only the orange shades and the yellows
are seen in the falling leaves of my trees
while sadly they shed like tears.
No shades of brown for which I die
all are stolen in the hazel of your eye.
Now, please say you're coming soon
so my colors ,again, can sing a happy tune.

Workshop: 

Coma static call
from the broken phone down the hall

I can hear you
your whimper

the same moon shinning bright
on us
your thick legs of winter beneath
your grandmothers quilt

fog mist hand stirring our hearts
your breasts against my chest
black birds echo
the etch of pines at the great bank
of the valley decline
makes me shiver

connect
the static hiss
of our careful silences

the longing measured
between us

you always cry
sobbing
broken hearted

Seven years are not forever

The head of our house said to me
On the day we met at the bar
West wind will bring a sudden change
Taking our woes with it away
Those who heard him thought he was drunk
Darkness hung on the path we walked
Air polluted by billows and burns
We are tired of hearing bomb blasts
We are sick with shame of bloodshed
Seven bad years are not forever

RECLUSE'S DOOR (minor edit)

I built my door of iron and oak
it's thick well made and square.
The latch lifts with a creaky stroke
should I choose to go out there.

It has but a single tiny pane
through which to see the world outside,
to watch the sun or snow or rain
while I stay safely here and hide.

The frame fits tightly all around
barring air when winds blow cold
and admits only muffled sound
should sleet or hail drum loud and bold.

BEYOND HORIZONS FAR-updated

BEYOND HORIZONS
Into violent waters
deep I fall
waiting for the calm
I know will never come

I long to be
on some distant shore
in safety’s keep
beyond horizons far
to sleep
and dream as before.

Mystery Meat...

The barbecue is all set
A new chef in charge of meat!

He’s cooking up a new recipe
They’ll really have a treat!

Of course, it’s a secret recipe!
It couldn’t be any other way

And as long as they don’t know it
He knows just what they’ll say

This stuff is so damn tasty!
Can I have your recipe?

“I’m sorry folks, it ain’t happening
It belongs to only me

Enjoy the tangy sauce I made
Wash it down with beer

The kids need another burger
Put your plate right over here

AS SEASONS TURN

With winter comes the final feasts
the ending of a worn out year
and seeing far through naked woods
breathing air that's cold and clear

but..........

Monochromatic soon grows old
too little color in the world
too many numbers in the power bill
late winter....season of death
......by now I like the winter less

At long last life returns with spring
pastels in 'most every shade
that first day of short sleeves
with luck worn on a fishing trip
all is well

Until...............

A R T I C U L A T E . . . D I S S A R A Y

lengths of silence
like a dream beneath the skin
of sky
the vault of articulation

the tradgedy of speaking

longing donor words
escaping
slipping up the valley stream
brilliant as a forecast
impending as love
fractured
and set with love struck
aching

grip me this granduer
captured
I feel the candour
turned about
an interest
fasting

losing reflections
for the flare of
amazing attributes

the mists from
broken mirrors

The Pawn Folly

Sand-like cliffs reaching up as towers
their sole purpose, but to measure hours,
feels a though I'm stuck in a cage
resulting in more visitations with rage;

There's not enough drink to fade it away
and too much left to quit it, today.
A good woman could help me put it down
but, there doesn't seem to be any of them, around.

Earth is Faith Redeemed

A casual elegance--
you never speak in black and white,
mixing the analogy with various
shades of rain.

Forlorn clouds sweep across your eyes.

If the evening mist pays homage
to the alluring moon, there is faith
in summer's yielding kisses,
there is roundness
in the beckoning horizon.

Wild is the grass that bends to your touch,
my love. I love you more than this poem
can say but only distance grows.

Pages

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