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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.

 

Foggy

Treading in the mucus of the lungs of despair
A child blindly splashing around
Franticly trying to generate enough noise for any passersby to notice
Alas, no one does
Plummeting to the bottom
Succumbing to this tormented inadequacy
Using the toxic lung butter of fear
To spread on the moldy bread of self deception
It feeds my insanity that no better life exist
I’m dying a slow starving death
Emaciated from a life spent without emotion
It is the bread killing me
But I do not know it

Cocoon

as in "Dune"
the dreamer has awakened
to new realities
because of you
your delicate touch
bringing fresh sight
and sharpened perception
to my guarded world
I was once a vagabond
skimming my way
across my life
not getting involved
taking no chances
many close encounters
decided my path
of flight from
dreaded relations
I would only lightly
briefly touch down
on one night stands
but more often than not
preferring my own company

Submission

Step outside, feel,the sharp air across your cheek.
move forward, sensory overload
Expelled into the universe..

Explode hurtle into society, be free
Thrust, penetrate the world .
Fuck it into reality.

Blow away all obstacles 
Dominate, smack it into submission
Live each day like there will never be another.

Withered Camellia

He danced on Love’s fiery coals
their heat exciting his heart
as Lent lilies by Wind’s tune.
His quill mercilessly bled
lucid verse on his ardour;
and his violin’s serenades
infused night’s serene quiescence.

Ah, but this cruel absence
his sanity now pervades
and strips his heart to the core.
Yet he by Love’s promise led-
drawn into approaching monsoon-
yields and partakes of the hurt
as no memory recalls.

Head bowed, he’ll stand- in his hand,
a lonely withered camellia.

Midnight and Rain(Dark Side CHat Poem)

The street lamps are reflecting pools of light
From the rain soaked roads
and others peek out from the darkened trees
Cold and clammy night
has fallen just behind the tree line

The roots crept slowly through the yard
Inching toward her feet
She didn't even notice
that the devil called her sweet

Where nothing short of evil could be found
Tendrils crawling on the velvet ground
The moon
blood red usurped the sky
Bat wings flutter
night hawks fly

Kay Of Ohio

You are not a single Z
but the essence
of originality and creativity,
as in these few words ,
you exhibit the cause of our very being

...''...the marrow and the circumstance
when all is clear in that moment
of oblivion.....what essence of ecstasy

I remember three gals,
teens discussing what it was,
the human male penis .

Trade (Story-Telling In Verse)

The old ones were good at makin’ lives for themselves,
the back swamps of New Orleans
made some mean fuckers that never gave up.
They didn’t need those needles
or dead flowers to get by in the world
like the young today.

z

Wild man illustrated man silent man
speak
unsay yourself
wild woman unwritten woman Goddess
sublime
sing your serpent's tongue
split the cosmos
and show your asshole,
show how it all began
poet be damned, poet be the mouth
that knows no song when all else fails
the truth, do not rest upon your
written page, rage
the devil's delivery
rage upon Shiva's dance
let all things come together
as if by chance, the morrow,
the marrow and the circumstance

Between Silences

brother, sister poet
mother, father, son, daughter poet
friend, soul-mate, lover poet
rival, antagonist, enemy poet
I hear your silences

the silence of pain that would obliterate you
of vision demeaned by mere words
of your guilt and innocence
I hear you

the silence when you don’t know the words
when you don’t know the shape for them
how to mold them,
I hear

and sometimes I can just hear you.

Abstract View

Birth of a dream,
Creation of imagination,
Humanity in calm unity,
Progress of a man and his dream,
And the whole wide world to live free,

Islands forged by great nations,
And it all began on the foundation of an idea,
A plan,
A thought,
A dream,

Poets go to line the streets,
To take a mental picture of the scene,
And to put it all in words,
To put it all in actions,
To put it in peoples imagination,

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