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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.

 

Abstraction, Algebra and Anger

Clever. Sometimes I'm just too clever
for the logic of my pen. My hands better in supplication
than the subtraction manifest in solemn rites of division
though I am not yet conquered by the aftermath left in
the spongy wake of lovers and starfish, trying out
walking feet in the crazed
boat of despair.
Why do I get the feeling
that all is lost but the sea? You say I am full
of myself. Well, who else would share your bed?

Crystal Heart

My heart pure crystal when you came to me
Full of love sharing caring
Yet always close to breaking

I warned you that you can share my time
But do not shatter my dreams
However you had an agenda

To use me up and spit out the pieces
A crystal heart already easily shattered
You hit hard with greed and anger

Took the remainder of crystal glowing
Consumed all I had given
Yet I remained smitten

You etched the shine with abuse
Laughed as my heart cracked in two
The love that grew

Was now in pieces

IN A QUIET PLACE

IN A QUIET PLACE

I took the words that tell
my thoughts and fears
locked them with a key
in a quiet place
where no one will
see them
again.

I’ve opened up my heart
bore my soul
to set my spirit free
from the demons
that are hunting me
down.

but the world can be
a cruel and unforgiving
place for some…
for most.

T R I N K A L I C I O U S

"Fuck it! be frank!!" Meri stood five eight
filling my doorframe
"Sure Deth" (she fucking hated that fore
shortened mention, reminded her of her
father whom fucked off politely when she
was four..I'd heard the story over many
a bottle of jack and black cherry cola)

Merideth
your reminding me of marybeth
save the gloom and doom
as you savour your exotic rage
that seeps down walls and
fills my rooms

Three Types of People

Have you ever stopped and wondered,
Just why a tear drop falls,
Or ever sat and pondered,
The existence of us all,
I have often sat and thought this through,
There atop my horse,
It is my belief that life is like a river true,
One that must run its narrow course,
Irregardless what we do,
To stem its flow to sea,
It dances toward the blue,
And we won’t just let it be,
Always trying to stop it,
To slow its progress down,
Never thinking to take a hint,
As it runs us to the ground,

No More Poems

I can’t write anymore,
No love poems today,

I’m stuck in this rut,
With no plan of escape,

I feel like a puddle of mud,
On this imaginary driveway,

I don’t want to move,
Just laze away all day,

I won’t write a thing,
At least not today,

But I’ll be up all night,
Working away,

And not a single line,
Of these useless rhymes,
Will make a poem,
No way.

They

You Poet

I can imagine you walking along side the boulevard
all alone, in the lap of nature,
which does each one of us nurture,
to the quietude of some symphony
in the far off distance,
perhaps Nigeria,
playing a tune of dismal melancholy,
awaiting the snowflakes to melt
upon your shoulders
as others all slumber in peace,
within their cozy comfy vaults
and
dreaming of what looks outside
like a storm,
as you traverse in real form.

Donna Joyce Clarke, Earth Angel

With a 40 ounce in each hand
seemingly announcing her very age,

she more than likely felt much older
but we're all on a different page;

she breathed life in just like her cigars
deriving pleasure from each hue,

causing her world to seem so, colorless
except of course for her "shade" of blue.

She loved unconditionally, like any Mother
with a generous nature, with which to share,

explaining why she had so many friends
who miss her, and who really care.

HUNT'S END

"Hey let's go and hunt some deer!
on this early winter day
I've got a place not far from here
Let's go dad! What do you say?"

Sitting there he cleared his throat
"It seems," he said, "I'm catching cold
If they hear me cough it's all she wrote
We'll go before the year's too old"

Another week, the cough was worse
that damned cold wouldn't go away
I asked again, The" No "was terse
"We'll go again another day"

WINTER CHILLS-- re-write

WINTER CHILLS
[inspired by Puccini's aria "Languide Carezze" [TOSCA]

WINTER CHILLS

The sky was frozen
sapphire still
and the sunlight pierced
through a sudden winter chill.
the days are getting colder
the Palm trees will not dance
tonight
In warm southern breezes

I turn my lights to dim,
sit in my easy chair
and for a moment
stare
into memories hidden
somewhere
in my mind

Why didn’t you tell me
long ago
what I now know:

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