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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.

 

behind my eyes

"Do we even like each other?"
Echo asked as she twirled
and twisted around my feet.
I was green when I faced the river.
I ripped to shreds dreams that never
came and I came undone.
But you come again and again to steal
my breath and devour my soul.

I listen carefully and exhume the sound.
Earth still clings to me. My bones lie
scattered.

C O L L I D E

partitions
meet your fire on the first flick
taste that heat
first sure lick

crush heel sweet relished life
that trick twist knee
that shouts its bitter agony

jump into flame
this loves ignition
aspiring
the thick dark fingers
beneath the skin
across the flesh
raised goosebump fresh

swallow words this
ghost ache
burning through
veneer of mirrors

wear your ears
and dance crippled
weary floors with
dirty feet

THIRD RATE PRODUCTS

Some people aren’t materials for first class
When it comes to academic or group work
Manure rejects gold and accepts the grass
Some hate pigs yet delight in eating pork
Middle men coordinate within the ranks
Between those who have and the have not
Sweet rewards swell the vaults of banks
They tried hard but they just could not
Their names were called, like others
Amongst those who passed the test
Those who failed were also our brothers
Third rate, may be, but that was their best

For Esker

What can I say of your poems?

I would like to own them,
hand-written on parchment with torn edges.
I would like to stick them on my walls
and keep some in my pocket
to give to strangers in the street.

One of the few

We can all spend a lifetime searching
Searching for that final piece
The part that makes us whole
That makes the pain of life
Disappear into nothingness
Imagine.
After a full life
Long after you have stopped seeking
That mystical something
Lands in your lap
Hits you in the face
Like a custard pie
Turns your whole life inside out
You hold it for one fleeting moment
Then, it vanishes in a puff of smoke
Poof! It’s gone forever
But now you know
You know what it was

Unfocused

Been down, trying to figure it out for awhile now,

playin stupid games givin myself the run around.

excuses excuses,

get up and go do shit,

draggin and saggin, that's just not what's happenin.

Being young and famous you see I tried to make a pact when,

I was about 16 I had everything on track then it all wen't tragic.

Mind got fuked up and everything changed,

shit became different I started to feel pain,

began not to care cause my heart won't the same.

Got influenced and i tried not to do this,

Merry Christmas Mama

I post this every year in tribute

Merry Christmas Mama

Merry Christmas mama
I'm sorry there's no tree
And I feel kind of bad
With no present to you from me

Merry Christmas mama
You should see the lights
They're so beautiful this year
All of them so bright

Merry Christmas mama
I'm blowing you a kiss
Trusting that an Angel
Will see it doesn't miss

Merry Christmas mama
From me, your youngest child
Clutching tight to memories
Of the many times you smiled

That Little Stable in Bethlehem

That little stable in Bethlehem,
had Gods almighty love.
For He sent angels there,
praising from above.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
had a star above its roof.
That star shone with great light,
for it served a mighty proof.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
was where Jesus was born.
That left angels singing
till the star of morn'.

That little stable in Bethlehem,
affected us it must.
Angels singing, "Glory to God in the highest!"
Those heavenly hosts we trust.

In protest to some modernist teachings

I wanna wing my abstractions in flared brushes
dipped in frightening rays of fiery flight
soaring above your passionless pit of poetic posturings
and shit some sense into your unopened view,
because We sir, are your peers!

I wanna misuse your precious language
until it's not only accepted, but expected.
I wanna fuck Plath in her silvery mouth
after pounding Ezra's stale metaphors
up his racist white ass, all while watching
your reactions, glory in your disgust and the
ill attempts to look away.

uprooted

I'm taking off my robe and unpacking my street clothes,
I'm trying to get into the Christmas spirit,
ever the Grinch after his heart had broken open,
but you see, the red kettle isn't big enough to feed
the starving world, and there are children living on the streets
without even a manger to lay their sleepy heads.
I think about fishing and fisherman at times like these,
the pristine summer sun and all that green, the smell of the wind
as it blows through the forest, juniper and mushroom

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