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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.

 

The Downfall

Your hands built me
And now they break me
Your words taught me
And now they taunt me
Your eyes held love
Now they've gone dark
Your arms held me
And now they push me back
Your heart loved me
And now there's nothing left

In The Dark

With the death of the day came the night
And all its singing
Its dancing bare branches
The dark reaching for us from all around;
The night birds called your name
And I knew you were real.

When the clouds left us behind
The sky opened up and poured out the stars
And it filled up the holes in our chests
Until I was afraid my heart would burst
And you thought this was a dream
It was all so surreal.

Pardonez-moi, darling

I want my lover to be the
way I eat his poetry,
like a delicacy, sweet to the bone
of his fingers,
salivating
and
taking me places
I've never been before
rendezvous-ing with untoward
lucid metaphor
naked in crisp white-ironed
summer-flowered sheets
of
possession and
unhinged imagination

Son of Weakness

Old timer, what debate do you pose on truth
The one I know freezes passion’s fire
Leaving behind demons that bathe in holy water

Old timer, quit selling those well told lies
Don’t talk about honesty, when yours was tainted
You speak of strength as if you were her child
We both know that you are the son of weakness

Rather than showing scars, you hide them well
In the comfort of walls you built, you cry another’s tears
Oh, old timer quit your war stories, they are of no use

When Worlds Collide

Never did he take your hand,
He left you alone,
Lying there,
Letting that last one fall.

Never did you believe,
Because you were smarter than that,
He was the one,
But somehow he changed.

He asked for your hand,
You dove in blindly,
And he never knew,
Why you ran away.

Now alone he keeps himself,
No one knows who he is,
A shadow on the wall,
You were always his whole world.

CRY NOT

CRY NOT

Cry not my love, cry not, though owls hoot in your chimney,
black with soot, their wooden wails, debilitated secret voices
of your mind, its wisdom dissipated by disease, ill at ease;
the curtain of days drawn shadows now turned to stone,

congealed, concealed your heart, yet within the granite
lie those feldspar crystals, quartz and precious gems,
the colours as the iris of your eye describes the beauty
you still hold; caught in the web of your own net,

BEQUEST

Let me hear your laughing voice
each night before I go to bed
and see the shadow of your form
elegant as the day we wed

I like to brush that hair aside
which tends to drop and hide your eyes
and saying something off the cuff
which catches you by pure surprise

And frowning at your puzzle book
on the couch as I sit here and write
in your old tee shirt and stained sweat pants
beneath the floor lamp's cozy light

Seasons in a Whisper

You are the spring of life
and I

the autumn
spread like wild leaves
across the meadows

and

distant horizon…

as you’re the rising sun
to smear a few rays perhaps
at a leaf maybe just one…

thanks for passing by
you make an autumn leaf
in me
fly sky high!

David "Red" Wiget

He was the good son
and brother, as well;

with a hunger for living
he couldn't quite quell;

his life was his family
'til he sent them, away;

my friend Red, cannot come out to play.

~

Quite tortured in life
Red still wore a smile,

inspiring awe
but, that was Red's style;

a sponsor, a mentor,
a student of the day;

Red's hope began slipping away.

~

What I remember of Red is,
he'd never condone,

DISPOSABLE BRAINS

If I could give something of mine away
I would not hesitate to take
My brain out…wrap it up in soft gauze
Pack it up in an old brown box
And in red ink…in block letters…
Scribble ‘FRAGILE’ on all six faces

If I could ask a favour from the most high
I’d say this prayer with a sigh;
‘O Lord, as a gift I need your mercy
I need you to take away my memory
Take the anger…take the bitterness
They leave me tired...they leave me stressed

Tonight it's just gray thoughts

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