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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.

 

Fables and Phantoms...

Evil, wears the faces that we put on it
The masks that we see are of our own device
Out of the darkness, in the light of the fire
we chisel and paint, bringing to life our fears

Warnings woven in tales handed down
of innocence carried away
in the absence of enlightenment
So we seek to put names and faces on it

What we cannot see frightens us
We need the lamps of understanding
Then we can invent ways of defeating evil
There must be Ying and Yang

Stygian Witch

I can't remember how this poem was to begin,
so I'll stir up a little agitation,
there's nobody home and nobody's without sin,
thieves are amoung us and steal the pontificating heart
with parochial parody.
Poets, damn them one and damn them all,
damn their inclinations
and exaltations.
Damn their invitations.
Damn their spotted dogs and damn their blind eyes,
damn their truth. Damn their loose lips,
flapping like red sails in the wind.

God's Wit

God has wit
and a sense of humour;
He made politicians
first.
To keep the devils
laughing silly
so He could make
the world in peace.
Then He invented
the feminist movement
when he formed Eve
from a spare rib.
And just to add
a dirty bit to
an already awkward set up,
He left them naked
in a garden patch
with a fruit
and a talking snake.

The lie

What a lie
that I can own the moon,
The untruth
Which makes me think
I can hold the sun

It is selfishness
To believe
that someone feels
As I do
Or expect that love
Will return
Just as light arrives
On a  brand new day

Seeing the green grass
Grow to only whither
As winters wind
Begins to blow,
The heart felt chilling
Bitter cold
Which steal away
Springs green glow

And Our Eyes Shall See Some Things

And our eyes shall see some things
Manifestations of magnificent beings
Riding in immortal splendor down on the sun’s rays
To show off their glitters like our mortal ways
It shall be then that we shall see these odd breeds
With their sacred beads and godly creeds
Finally step on these withered weeds
To play hide and seek with us in Armageddon
Perhaps, again on the ancient plains of Esdraelon

the tipping point

You were on the tip of my tongue
but I had nothing more to say,
and so it is
that poetry is by far the easiest
thing to swallow.

if you think I'm your friend, your lover,
your enemy or your Beloved
you're half-right
only as far as your thinking goes
so here goes a quick assessment
of the blessed rite of passage,
down, down where nobody knows
how far the truth goes
that never has been said
and left you for dead,
alive and kicking into that gaping mouth
that holds the void, opening,

Today the daises rot. Her hair, so fine
it seeps through head and heart. The fungus, root,
affliction hard of bones and fingers. Brittle
hate of daughters, sons. Come! Take my hope!
No-more is it I need, my dreams lay shattered, broke
beneath a mild tide: like glass trying to
reflect a hollow ghost. Now claim my words
surrender every pen, my tiny triumphs,
heard by none. And still no-one will be beside
my bed tonight. Alone among my useless dreams,
I tire, feign sleep and scream to gods who don’t

Workshop: 

Trilogy

i. The Other Shoe Drops

The silence
before
the river weeps

Can you hear
the wandering minstrel of truth,
like clean wafts
of remembered seas
crossing the senses
with a warm January breeze?

Snow covers
the landscape of climate change

Hearts are thawing.

ii. Civilizations Fall

The emerald forest
does not argue with the prairie wind,
telling it which way to turn.

A warm thin line
setting the insistent horizon gives
way to both the darkness and the light,

TWO TOILETS

Two toilets guard a driveway's start
and both of them filled up with dirt
so odd they gave me a mild start
And then I grinned so wide it hurt
on seeing flowers start to sprout

Then I nearly wet my pants
When Susan took time to explain
what I beheld were"potted" plants
I laughed so hard it hurt my brain!
and now I guess that I'll sign out

serious poem from serious poet lmao........stan

A Conversations With Pops

I had a conversation the other day
About a part of my life best forgotten
My father spoke to me and I listened attentively

The sweaty palms dry to the sound of his calm voice
Is he being sincere or saving a man filled with fear
He told me how I silenced doctors, and specialists
How I overcame their predictions by leaps and bounds

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