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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.

 

your nose is growing

So,
you wanted to be a porn king,
my little rascal,
and you thought big
and you talked a good schtik,
going through all the motions
until you came to my conclusion.

It's all right, Jack, go on. Write poems
of ejaculation and I'll read them
on occasion. But please don't be breaking
all the mirrors in your house fucking yourself to death,
you might get cut out of your own show while it'cccs still
on the road.

Amen.

When I killed you,

you sighed
so softly
then died

I had no hate,
it was just cause,
it was too late
to stop
a simple clause
was all it took
was what you said you said

I love her

no longer singing the blues

It slides in easily.

I slice my knife into your guts so so soft
you were the cause of it's blame
it was determined, you should know
my love is cause enough
So die, fuck,
you know why
you are a jazz musician
and took my girl.

Just gone...

Just gone…

Your tears ran down my back,
it tickled, I would have laughed
most times.

Why am I not laughing,
we shared something
now gone. Where does it go,
not to someone else,
is it just hung until
the next heartbreak.

Is this we speak of only for pain,
can anyone feel this.
Hope not, this hurts like hell,
worse than, well maybe
physically but I’m, no in time
thinking, mental hell.

Downtown Sellout

I was kicked in the the face,
beat up and pulled away,
left astray,
So I took a little walk,
And ended up at the boulevard,
And as I glanced back at the road I had walked on,
I was amazed as to how far from home I had come from,
So I stared the city in the face,
And once more I was amazed,
To realize how much society had lost its grace,
It was never that hard to keep a steady pace,
But no one will raise a voice in this fake place,
So I carried on,
To this day I walk on,

Where I Have Gone

All these thoughts are nauseating
Even the mirror gets sick of apologies

This time I will not let myself be absorbed
Into a dry sponge of self-pity
Logic found a place in my insanity

Your platitudes don’t ease the soul for a moment
As I lose consciousness in my mind’s maze

Finding faith in the abyss of lingering skepticism
Reflecting on yesterdays filled of travels
This is where I have gone and who I have become

SILENT DEATH

Man! I've got a gassy dog,
a dauchund shaped just like a log,
who likes to lie about and fart.
He's got it right down to an art.

Silent but deadly is his way
(he could run a skunk away).
Maybe it's a sign he's older;
his gas has gotten worse and bolder.

All the walls are now off-white,
no longer are they pure and bright,
but we save on insecticide.
The bugs that don't die run and hide.

LICK IT

air of shit
these words ache
like a slap burn
and crawl

crawl back to you
pull your soul up
hide your heart
the darkness starts

the dream rips
shorn
the handful of scream

your just falling
crystalline vision
sucked through
that vortex

bitten like a finger
through the hammer
and the gun
say you want to feel
the sun

Lick it
a hurt buried
like a rotten
fallen house
of cards

I Compare You

I compare you to a mirror’s edge.
you are cunning, as you are cutting.
You are longing to distort my image.
When rough is what is in you,
Ah! The pain I cannot long contain.
When you are smooth and beguiling,
Glistening in the moon light, my soul,
My soul shall take heed of your reflection
And fly from your deceptive presence.

I shall compare you to a still water’s edge;
Like a pale reflection of the night sky,
You do not show your depth and power.

Ink imp

she peeks out from candlelight

into the shadows cast about

concrete chamber walls

silhouette blends

fades disappears

appears again

her tepid tears

fill a chalice

as she urges me

with silent taunts

to stain these

paper altars

with verse

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