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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

 

Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest Winner!

 

The Winner of the Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest is  scribbler

 

AUTUMN'S CUSP

 

 

Mid October a cool day
with a northern cooling breeze.
All hints of summer gone away.
The few green leaves are just a tease.

Tomorrow will bring the first frost
so this day finds me 'neath the trees
absorbing warmth before its lost
and limbering up titanium knees.

For I'm not what I once was.
Time has seen that I am not,
So I sit on a stump to take a pause
and breathe autumn's scent which I'd forgot.

Then turn my face up to the sky
as cool front winds begin to blow.
I watch the clouds as they race by.
They leave like friends I used to know.

My eyes water from sun's glare
so I drop my head down to my chest
letting my chin settle there
while I count the ways that I am blessed.

I'm blessed with our cabin in the trees
I'm blessed with seeing one more fall.
I'm blessed with grandchildren to tease.
I'm blessed with being here at all.

I watch a squirrel climb to its nest
for now the sun is getting low
so ere' it reaches ridge's crest
I arise then turn and go.

 

                         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.

 

Granny Says- From the Boogie O'Ugie Chronicals

Life prepares us for Death. "It is my hope that every human boy and girl can graciously learn some of the dark or scarier things in life. Bruce O'Ugie recalls: One day, not too long ago, i stood there with my children, and wife. All of us crying, all of us lost. Not really sad, just longing for that oh too familiar untainted, unconditional love. Hoping for her words of wisdom. Like life prepares us for death... I had this friend named Brodie. Our mothers were the very best of friends all while we grew up, since we were babies. More like brothers than friends.

Paper Lanterns

flower petals
soft as velvet
caress this soul

paper lanterns
mystic as ancient scripts
entice these thoughts

cobbled streets
old as gold
form this physique

emerald eyes
deep as sleep
captivate these emotions

poems fly within this mind,
as paper lanterns in the starry night sky.

Melt

Sometimes I want to melt...

Melt into my bed,

melt into the background,

melt into your arms,

melt into myself.

Sometimes I want to melt

until there’s nothing left.

Horror From Burning A “Witch”

And their death came to them on horseback
After echoes of Halloween horrors
Roamed through their haunted village
Screeching like a witch aboard a broom
Jetting through their eerie nights
Sprinkling dread melancholy on their wretched souls

CORRIDORS

Call them corridors or halls
those spaces linking here to there.
Polished floors and bright glazed walls
which lead us to that next somewhere.

And the doors along each side
which one to open, which to be passed?
Once opened up and we're inside
they all become, in sum, our past.

Some of them we walk alone
others in a jostling crowd;
some are quiet as a long dead phone,
others are often really loud.

never to recognize Christ

you get to know the neighborhood
bums
recognize their palms,
the misfits of the street in their
divestment of the American dream
holding tight to the graffiti of hollow men
and their wild wild west empires,
bullets in their pockets and weapons for sale
in always-shallow hearts;

you might blame the corporation elite,
its stock
and shareholders
for having their own way,
or the politicians bought and sold on the
auction block,
slaves,
rendering to Caesar his image

Retreat-ment

A rock, bound to a leaf
The wing to free the moment
Flutters green or autumn crimson
on the rich tended soil
within the forest of the "aaaahhhhh"
The holy garden sanctuary
I feel your feet tread
The focus of your creative mind
Weaving it’s wonderful magic in your space
Making more beauty
Beauty forms the feathers of the freedom that is peace
Peace, no matter what the circumstance
Settle in the moment,
the present,
the gift of the rock and the leaf and the silver fox
in the holy garden

capitalism

now it has come to a wretched affair
telling you this while I'm sat on a carton
telling you life is so blasted unfair -
grateful for flagons of watered-down bourbon
reason I'm living this awful nightmare ?
nasty old bank is now taking mean action
moving my furniture to who knows where
threatening to sell it, tomorrow at auction

woe the great hide rises
while the great one dies

day of another

awake sweet fascination
shake the shackle of this slumber
let the crown of constellations
ride upon your mantled head
tiara of mystery
princess of darkness

let thy breath decree excess
of surly want and lick the lips
of tender lust
the blood fast
the smouldering ruin of
bridges
archs of cascade
the fire drips
like hot life

oh how we delve this hot
famine in succulent
prurience

Far From the Tree

Just a shiny little apple, still growing up
But that shine you see in the pictures
Isn’t really there
I just reflect it off back to you
And maybe it’s what I was
But I’m far from you now
I’m far from the tree.

Maybe we are the same
Could you live without your stereo?
Did you live for Pinwheels
and holding someone’s hand?
Did you sing?
Were you angry?
Was it me?
But now I’m far from you
Now I’m far from the tree.

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