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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.

 

acceptence (prose)

Indigo children, running on a molten river of emotionless hate.
Driven forwards only by the tumult that we fools call love.
Compelled only to be accepted into a perfect circle.

faceless (prose)

You couldn’t really call him homeless. He always felt comfortable where he was. Always able to sleep well on any given surface.. He never considered something as cliche as ‘the city is my home’. No, he just never really considered having a home. This is how he wanted to live, without any connections or attachments. He didn’t even dream of having anything more. Real dreams. Sleeping dreams. Not aspirations. Hell, he didn’t even want respect. There was no talking to strangers or introductions.

A Slip-up

I told a friend to look behind his back
He turned round to see a cripple crawling
then jumped and ran to nearby side track
because he thought a car was approaching
We laughed to see the fear on his brow
The lame was angry by our reaction
He picked some stones all set to throw
We explained it was not our intention
to mock or make a jest of him by that
but to let our chary friend step aside
as he wore a comical mammoth hat
and couldn’t see a thing from either side
This turned out to be a very big gaffe

the Good, the Bad, and the Lovely

she can be broke sometimes
but when she's good she's great
she switched up my realities
and broke the garden gate

caged in like an animal
she broke out like a storm
polite enough to say goodbye
though she never met the norm

some things aren't understandable
like her pain at its worst
i'm waiting for the day when she screams
man, that fucking HURT!

i never can get anything
how does she deal with me?
i know i get annoying
barking up everyone's tree

The Hedgehog And The Fly

It's at a time
when I refuse to check my mail
so I can be surprised
by my TIME subscription
list.

I wait for the boy to snore
some more
so I'll have something
other than myself
to ridicule and bemoan.

The time I sit
till I sink in
the crater my bottom
makes on my bed;

And I see how naturaly I dent
All that was comfy and right.

The times we watch
the seconds tick
and wish we were
like time -

Listen To Life Sing

Listen to life sing, what a beautiful thing
As the wind whispers secrets to her sisters
Rivers flowing, as if they love not knowing

Oh, fuck the best in me, leave that to destiny
I want to exist like leaves and the air that breathes
I’ll fly with sparrows ducking bows and arrows

Oh, I’ll seduce the night as I welcome first light
No authority, only a soul to set free

To weirdelf Cheers Mate

SUFFIX

were there
no more
depths
where wavelegth echo
touchs
the lovestarved thought
buried in liberty doubts

where there
no more quests
fulfill the fear of sanity
rusting in sunbleached sands

songs cast in dreaming
against the baby grand
this halo of bright
falling like snow
the spirit of sight
I hold onto what
ghosts we are

Killing by meter

I will kill especially you
Kill you, Kill you, Kill you, Kill you, Kill you,
death by Iambic Pentameter

I will definitely kill you
Kill you, Kill you, Kill you, Kill you, Kill you,
death by Trochaic Pentameter

Hooters, phallic symbols and toilet humour

Hooters, phallic symbols and toilet humour

 you may think me base and crude when I say
That i have-observed the down right sexist to the
Utterly lewd in our language 

.They call breasts ta tas, they call them hooters 
tits, boobs and puppies, they even give them names 
Sometimes call them the twins

I have also taken note that society loves a good fart joke
And others of that ilk,
Even the most refined love toilet humour

writing while she watches over my shoulder

“three pages
down
and eight beers
to go. hmm…
i drink alone
because i sing
secrets…
three and a quarter pages
down
and seven beers to go.
Bitch.”

'what?
k, i'll try.'

Pages

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