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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.

 

D E S , , , N A C H M I T T A G

silken one
a sky steeped
fetch yourself through rivers
of alleys
spires where angels kneel

fits of elation
tremble on your head
a steady remainder
of the time you were dead

I saw the happiness you
hung
like sunlight beams
for evening dance

you lay your coolness
upon my brow
the heat and thrill
a shadow chill
a curtsy bow

a black and white
recital stream
that whispers dark
a sacred dream

The photograph stills...

The photograph stills,

A face now fractured has
nowhere to look as the
photograph stills, while
coloured pain and paint
still run
There shall be no more
blushing of skin, when
a tiny word removes what
someone else has done.

Complexion, just a myth
perpetuated by a wall street
bulletin board.
When an ugly fish is captured
by the hook, it will hang silent
until it’s time comes to
be ignored.

I Thought I'd Think Your Thought

Excuse me
for interrupting
I'm just passing through
through the membrane
of your brain
just a thought, thinking of
passing through
like a memory
galloping into view

take me now

rein me in
and I'm yours or
leave me alone
as if I never was
a war child without a home

Nourish me with distance.
Blind me with your light.
Dance me from your insight
or take from me a brilliant bite.

Dandy Lion

The mountain lion looked around

in search of some kind of treat,

he knew not, from where it’d come

he just had to have some meat.

It seemed he’d searched for quite some time

hunger starting up a trauma,

when finally his eyes did find

a healthy piece of brahma.

He caught his meat-and he did eat

‘twas even better than a deli,

he ate up almost all his prize

and severely gorged his belly.

Proud of himself, and of his catch

he laid down on the canyon floor,

proposal

I was visiting
a Central library once
a young gal was going around the library
in circles....
I volunteered to help her
in case she was struggling
for something special
and this is what she said to me.

'''Sir my mom told me
to go around
to a library to see,
how many guys come looking for me,
as they would think,
I'm as knowledgeable
as the librarian
and would propose to marry me ...''

Sir will you now help me?
What to marry thee!

About Resurrections

ABOUT RESURRECTIONS

We all suffer and endure
a crucifixion
of one kind or another
a hundred or more
in a lifetime.
We bleed through the heart
and the mind turns
on itself
in brutal insanity
Into dark places
we must fall
for there can be
no resurrection
without the soul’s near dying.

forgive me

when he was called back Home I hated You
for stealing such a treasure from my world
I screamed at You and begged it be untrue
anathema I, to the heavens, hurled

ashamed, I ask now that You will forgive
my petty, childish, human ignorance
in questioning the reason, Your own motive
in making me abide within his absence

for since assured acceptance has begun
I fully understand I should not whine
because deep down I know he was Your son
long before he ever came as mine
.

Lost in Summer

The smell after removing soak sweat panties
cock before the room of only two eyes
her full summery incense
beads along the small platform breast
dewdrops freeing the hole

legs apart slow shaking
vintage Bebop
flip flop two cheeks
fanning summers heated tushy

stay . . . manifest
upon request
descriptive thorough blue note
on back of signature jacket of Bud Powell

her summery scent now pronounce
by tangle whips of humid air
from an open window low puffing voile
cast an usual aphrodisiac

Black President

This tale is woven around legends

It will be peddled around for decades

Historians will use it as a point of reference

It will be told to kids as folk tales

This is the story of the man

who raised a band to fight an army

Am afraid that is not the plan

If you find that alarming

It was he, they said carried death in his pouch

and his birth the mark the beginning of an epoch

Strange one, Abami!

Oh! … You should know the woman he calls Maami

The lioness of Lisabi

She was the great Amazon

C h a r n e l . . . H a u s

A sturm of flights
Geist dressage
seeping tear stained
beneath the shroud

Here is lightning
laced as silk
through jagged
runs
the pivotal hoops

and thunder
stark like a Gods
cough

to open minds
to seek horizons
beneath the comfort

Dead Zones of acclimation

where even elephants forget
in mists where shadows
depart

the breath of the great sleep
the perfume of
it

slipping like a drug
beneath the occupant
heart

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