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Neopoet Weekly 06/09/24 to 06/15/24 Winner!

 

This week’s winner is Lavender with the following poem

 

Winning Poem

Magic

Submitted by Lavender

A falling star settled on my rose,
a diamond dipped in velvet clothes.
I dared not touch the pure gift
sent from heaven, so swift,
but let it rest there
in such sweet air
and comply
to my
wish.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Summer Image Prompt Contest Vote

Please read the following poems

And vote below.

Voting ends June 19th 2024

 

 

 

Abandoned

By:  Mary Beth Magee

 

She bobbed there in the gentle swell,
The little boat I knew so well.
The sail wrapped tight along the boom
Gave me a feeling of dark doom.
I saw no anchor chain hung down
To stop her, lest she run aground.
No one sat in her empty bow.
No hand controlled her keel just now.
A gentle breeze set her to rock.
How did she get loose from the dock?
As the breeze caused her to turn,
I spotted paint along her stern.
Rough letters where my name had been -
The words now looked like "Mortal Sin."
What had he done in dark of night?
Was he convicted by dawn's light?
Then in the reeds beside the dock…
What I saw gave me quite a shock.
A body, face down, on the lake,
Could it be him, for heaven's sake?
Please, no, I prayed and backed away.
What pushed him so, I cannot say.
I didn't dream that he would dare.
I only know I lost him there.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Summer Image Prompt Challenge-Sailing

By: Hon

 

In the sailing wind blow
pacing along with the flow
feeling at ease and contented
under the vast blue sky
the spray of the fresh air
embarking on a new journey
traveling miles far apart
carrying with a curious mind
awaiting for a new opportunity
embracing with a sense of hope
bringing with an emotional ride
through many different stages
at the endless spending time
finding own destination
with each tale of the story
comes with lessons
instilled with the thought
life is a learning experience
that takes where it goes
a place that holds special
to the heart that embraces
like home

 

 

 

 

Vote Here

 

Thank you for your Participation!

 

Neopoet Weelky 06/02/24 to 06/08/24 Winner!

 

This week’s contest winner is hippiemoon with following poem:

Archeology

By: hippiemoon

Years from now,
We will be dead and buried.
Your laugh nothing more than
A whisper in the wind,
A breeze carrying off dandelion wishes.

Our headstones will rest together,
Aging together, as we did in life.
Tears from our loved ones will mix with rain
And our memory will fade with the engravings.

And years from now,
We’re forgotten by everyone but the Earth.
They will dig our bodies up
And find our bones entwined in each other’s arms.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Congratulations to Shelby Pryor for winning this week’s contest

 

Something New

Rain rushes from the skies
Mixing with a single tear
The wind cuts through
Like every doubt, every fear

Lightning shatters my peace
Like the pieces of my mind
A distant thunderclap mocks
Of the girl I was and left behind

A tornado rages in my head
Demolishing my peace and joy
I plaster on a smile for you,
But it's just a tactic I employ

The fear paralyzes my heart
Yet I'm so tired of being afraid
It is time to get up and fight
Before my resolve starts to fade

My fingers curl around my sword
I lift it high, I've got my armor on
I bring it down with all my strength
Until the shattered pieces are gone

There is no fixing the girl I was
No use in buying time with glue
The only solution is to shatter her
And forge with fire Something New

 

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.

 

there are no closet poets

If poetry is the bread, what is the butter?
It gets succinct after that, that first reading
and you're left with an unconscious reflex.
(You want, you ache begrudgingly but never trivially.)
She feeds you lines as if she were your slave
but she's a headhunter eating your
brains for breakfast and your soul for dinner.
He's the master of disguise and you are devoted
with purpose--to love his real face.

The Lady and Twilight Bond

Words often can fail
but I try, anyway.
The verbs wrap around
a particular noun,
and adjectives help them stay;
causing images to move, and sway.

Before your very eyes
I'm hoping that I write,
will an image, send
concerning my friend,
the woman known as Twilight;
who toils throughout the night.

Summer, in the desert
owns a suffocating heat,
dispatching out
enough self-doubt,
to squelch attempting any feat;
including walking on the street.

The point of no return

When we were children
We knew nothing of this planet
In the wood we’d build our dens
Play war games with our plastic guns
And cowboys and Indians
Then I’d be the Lone Ranger
Or Roy Rogers with Trigger,
Sledging in the winter
Swimming naked in the lake
In the heat of summer
Playing doctors and nurses
With the girl next door
We had no idea what to expect
The world was an adventure
A great big planet
Waiting to be explored
Yet, now we are grown, we find
Life did not fulfil its promises

moving man

if you have never defiled anyone's couch
you're not an angry moving man
the twenty-dollar tip running from your nose
heavy refrigerators you couldn't lift
in the crook of your back
the cast iron sarcasm of chipped porcelain
paydays missing you on those windy days
like runaways laughing, blown into a thousand tight spaces
with calloused hands
going from place to place they leave you
another empty room

Long ago on a small island in the Caribbean, (Puerto Rico) there was a people who worked the sugar cane fields. There was an abundance of cane in the town of San Sebastian.
This town was the largest producer of cane on the hills, in the village of Alto Sano.
The men of Alto Sano lived and died by their machete.

A TIME TO WRITE

While wrestling with a wriggling muse
I sit and look out rear glass door
and try to write of sylvan views
which have washed up on creative shore

Pen in hand and butt in chair
spiral notebook in my lap
snatching rhymes from the thin air
ink flows slowly as spring sap

Reckon I'm so deep in thought
that at first I do not realize
that my attention's being sought
by someone with emerald eyes

reciprocal hemorrage

dawn crawls up the floor
to my room
my echoed chamber
full of you

I can feel my pockets full
the soft sweet dampness
hanging on straining
wire with shoulders slumped

we wore lives in radiant expulsion
transfiixed and fickle
while radiator spoke her
murmur messages throughout the
past
and snowflakes ticked against our
glass

Flames

Sometimes I feel the flames
surrounding the form around,
make me dwell in moments of ecstasy
then devour me
as in consummation

Life’s just a flickering flame
worth seconds only
ere the flame blows
wow,
all is lost in the moment
of once having been
a being,
like a scorching feeling
petals or wings of butterflies feel
ere they are consumed…

The Home Fires

Oxen of the sun
birthing canal
Wilde on his rock
colouring banal

Bram stoking fires
Behan's door ajar
Kavanagh with kindling
hailing Synge from afar

Yeats in Ithicabra
polishing his horse
Beckett in Bray
waiting in morse

Joyce yet awanders
ash thatched to hand
plitting a plot, plotting a plan

TREASURE

TESOURO

O homem quem gasta a vida
Procurando um tesouro
Perde aquêle que deixou
Atrás
Não sabendo

Eu sou os raios dourados
do sol
meus olhos lapis lazuli
e meus labios rubis de sangue vermelho
meu coração opalas puros
brilhando reflexões na luz
da minha malancolia

TREASURE
The man who spends a lifetime
Looking for a treasure,
Loses the true one he left behind
not knowing.

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