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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.

 

I Do Not Understand But I See The Truth

I do not understand but I see the truth
Why my tornadoes are resting now
And gone back to their hazy groove
Of eerie sleepiness,
And my bright spheres now dancing
Like freaky circles upon the horizons.

A Musing Poetry of Nine Muses

Calliope
It is a long story to write of you,
An Epic will that do
On many tablets as in days of old
This is how your story is told

Clio
Of times past you tell
Of battles won, and times of hell
Rest a while let your scrolls foresee
A calming image, for you and me.

Erato
Now sing lyric's softley to me please
A beauty toned from your lyre to tease
Play to me in dreams stories of the old
Tales from the Greeks so I am told

one windy day at the lake
a loud whistling in the wind roared
spurned tornadoes breaking windows
along the lake's shore

suddenly, abruptly the quiet ended
as the cellar door opened then banged shut
screaming children crying mommy I'm scared
to sirens blowing in nearby towns

Who!

Simply superbly intellectual
I drift in the knowledge
of being a part of a
(Non) spiritual beauty
that is endless and races
with unconditional love.

I am that lonely bird
As there I am free really,
of all people
as I have learned to write
Even with the bard standing
at my side.

Just trust me,
I believe in myself.
The anonymity I don,
is not optional,
It is adorned as a diamond,
a Kohinoor perhaps
like it’s only exceptional.

S E D I M E N T

your warm gaze
and chartreuse set
this light that billows light

A laughter that scatters and pink
sea stars adorn the wave break
this tide that swells
this water hides

For cheery days that were upon the very
we of us
thatched roofs of sediment sunshine
and rust
like teary tangerine tears to kiss
and feel the wind tug amongst our
amulets on leather leads
that tempo swayed
in lovemakers dreams

Approaching Hurricane (auditory)

Iambic hexameter with alternating rhyme.

A wall of sound precedes the vortex barrier.
A windborne howling as of godlings passing by.
Lost voices shriek in whispers bleak and sepulchre.
Strained iron groans and snaps about the place we lie.

At once the soil is atomized and buffets tin.
It seems behind us armed cicadas ply their wars.
So loudly does the sand meet with metallic skin,
that clearly had their scatter guns discharged indoors.

Rain On A Tin Roof...

Hurtling down through the atmosphere
silver drops of H2 O
With a splat, their mass is scattered
Then in streams they join the flow

The water rushes madly
down the slanted tin
Streams that run side-by-side
in a race, not one will win

The drumming, beating raindrops
left the clouds to play
Now there's water dripping in last place
while the storm moves on it's way

Falling down the rainspout
Winding down the curb to drain
The water from the sky
is gone down the sewer-main

lumbering silence in Bodnar's

Thick and grey, lumbering hulks
trumpet the silence....

MEDUSA THE SCENT OF MALE

MEDUSA : THE SCENT OF MALE

From the darkness
that hid
her abomination
she slid
sniffed the air
and dropped her veil
seduced by the smell
of male

there they stood
mesmerized by the beauty
of her ugliness
in a trance
of desire and revulsion
as Medusa began
her dance
of seduction

serpent strides
back and forth
left to right
in orgasmic thrusts
of promises
that were to come
to each one
who looked upon
her serpent smile

Song of Anger

I have aged
For so long
In the cage
Of self rage

Life like hell
Anger eats me
Hard to tell
Friend from foe.

In my eyes
Rolling like dice
Any side faced
Life is woe
Head to toe

Anger without choice
Has made me
Mad at everything
Raged at anything
Calmed by nothing

Can’t help it
The growling anger
Worst of all
Angry at myself

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