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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.

 

B I T C H

subways screaming in
the bitter light
like a party lamp
overturned

my retina burn
and this hot rush of wind
stinking of city
and office bodies
the restless and
the chosen
wandering in their week
old skins

the walls lucid crawl
in a flash of stainless
wet like a putrid worm

lights and words, (More Meter WS)

The stars of night shine bright upon the sky
At speeds of light they reach the earth, they say
The words we say are fast to reach their mark
At speeds so fast than lights we see, I’d say
You know the answer without another phrase

Workshop: 

Poet You Are

The eyes, of a soul,
yet to seed more poems,
To help humanity see through
the ailments,
which are not man-made

We may perhaps inherit,
in our genes
But to brave the calamity
and let it not become fatal,
Ere its time,
is the way
one lives a full life with dignity

In your case it,
draws like steel from a furnace,
the tenacity most folks lack.

You are, if I may say,
the epitome of a suffering man,
though the bravest of his brand.

Lost Sole (iambic trimeter) revised

Iambic trimeter (workshop:)

Lost Sole
a shoe without a mate
is out of time a crime
of passion so sad today
day next is near to me
along borders of pain
remaining in a cave
when troubled times Are near
I scramble for a perch
response shuts down at once

Footsteps On The Staircase.

Footsteps On The Staircase.

Hearing footsteps on the staircase
a young boy is silent in his room,
only moonlight from the window
brightens the darkness and gloom.
His heart beats fast, fear increases
as an angry father opens the door,
staggering drunkenly towards him
to inflict violent cruelty once more.

I don't know why

I don't know why
I comment,
On many poems,

Perhaps to boost up the morale
Instead of making gassy lament
And
that makes the poet elate,
Flat he falls at my feet,

Pick me up I’m so tired
Now comes the strength
You gave me…
I’ m going to have a kicking ride
Friend Loved
Stand by my side…

Just desserts

Join the ice cream army, as they head off to the coast
In the stationary traffic, they sit there and they roast
By the time that they arrive, the day is nearly done
Join the ice cream army as they race to catch some sun

Join the ice cream army, sitting safely on the sands
Lazing in their deckchairs with their sundaes in their hands
Basking in the sunshine, laying like they’re dead
See the ice cream army, watch them all turn red

Course,You Are

You are my eyes,
ears and mind,
Without your help
no words I'll find

In my mind poems emanate.
I am no poet still,to date,
I know not the nuances of poetry,
Yet it surprises me,
When many still seek me.

Am I the small bard
You make out of me,
As words flow out
Like milk and cream…

for Zhu Yufu

poets are intuitive creatures,
we don't even know some of the things
we know,
twittering in the trees
with manifestos of silence,
bombing the inner plane
with
unrecognized faces
and telling stories of the
yet-to-come.

somehow
we make sense
of the senseless, find the abiding spirit in the
soulless,
write poems of the undiscovered land
until our days of (the rising) sun
are done.

~~~~~~~~~~

A translation of a segment of Zhu Yufu's poem:

"It’s time

MONDAY

Cacophony of grey twigs,
their splotches, lichen on the smoother bark,
their music in the breeze, a rattle, clap.

Bones long gone respond in graves close by,
and moose stop munching tips of trees,
to hear, to see, to smell.

Danger flings its fearful cloak about,
his mighty dark cloud canopy,
all cats go scatty dancing a devil's dance,

A glint of madness in their eye.
The fly and ant take refuge in their holes or heaps,
a metre down they're safe from any harm.*

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