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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.

 

THUNDERSTRUCK(edited)

A Thunderstorm is brewing!

Why do i keep raining from my eyes?
Turning my own sorrows into bitter lies
It is just a storm glooming a cloudy day,
thunderstorms and flooding from my own eyes,
the gates that
burst a ton of water..then
another river of emotion drowns.
me away completly, The question,

" How to kill these frowns?"

before i end up swimming in a lake of sad,
Thunder is now sounding!

"Have i gone 'pletely mad?"

Memories of Yester Years

I stand upon the shelf,
nay threshold of time
looking over my,
and her shoulders,
as she read and bore
a red face in anger.

How did I dare to put on paper?
The mannerisms of students,
long since forgotten
of a demeaning behaviour,

Truant what you say
my child
lest I go more wild,
be gone like a passionate breeze
go in the snows and freeze
become a forgotten morn
and
of this incident,
never ever again yawn.

IMMOLATION--last 2 lines changed

IMMOLATION

There is no desperation
in my eyes
no fear of what is to come
no plans for my future
demise
No date of expiration.

Most things I have overcome
through will and skill
to survive
the remaining “some".

And the demons that hunt me down
are made Flesh by the Word
to burn to oblivion.
in the hell of my own fire.

I am me; my very own me

Do not hail or scorn me
Let me be me
For nothing else corny or cynical
Humorous or dangerous
Moves or "un-moves" me

I’ve searched and have found myself
I’ve reaped the truth of myself
For whatever skin I wear like the chameleon
To please or displease the world
It is still me – my very own me

I may or may not be
the hero the world expected
The prodigy you predicted
Even if I were or weren’t,
It will still be me
Deep inside that hide

TIME'S TOLL

Was it ever really here?
that running ground for hare and deer,
a perfect mix of dell and wood
where hickory, oaks and larch all stood.

Land which rolled from flat to steep
cut here and there by gullies, deep,
divided by a marshy stream
so peaceful... it now seems a dream.

But that was in those younger days
recalled now through years of haze;
the memory may be mere ideal
yet it doesn't have that feel.

C O P U C O R N I A

huddle
up
dont show the worth

peepshow visions
from the earth

Your fingers are talking
through tangle hair
the restless crowd draws
in the hushed air
and you silence them
with your steady stare

something within moves
the clockwork of you
working

beneath the shaded sky
of fallen grey
where shadows creep
searching for prey

Black K-Night Ninja

Who is that?
lurking amonst the shadows
like a black cat

always hides his face with glowing eyes
swingin his nunchuku ..
to your suprize

He's a so called ninja
rasied out of Tokyo
without his face paint but still a Juggalo

Battle of Creativity

A scream echoes
In a crowded place
As a volley of thoughts
From voices battling to try
And manipulate

A screening of images
Flash like a newsreel
Capturing momentary scenes
In a capsule of time
That cannot be reached

An invasion on concentration
Collapses a coherent mind
Into indecisive muddle
That produces babble
From un-controllable lips

Inspired Love

Love is a spring,
a fountain of igniting hope,
to match a birth of an entity
that is you.

Then you get the touch
of a loving mom's fingers
your own delicate ones curve in
and
you know you are
being loved by someone.

The sojourn of life
takes care
and
each one of us has a share
of love and hatred,
as a pair,
none can be spared,
either.

Lorna’s Path

The path she took she knew,
knew so well
by her footsteps padded,
a button toe and tiny heel
sole flattened way
below the pines,
a strung winding
trodden line to her friend.

So many times
she traveled
sometimes eyes closed,
bare foot familiar,
feeling brown needles
soft sand
wandering roots
just where they should be,
route touches of
assuring signs,
breeze wisped
in tree cloaked
rustling forest fabric,
wrapping the nearby
watery sounds.

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