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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.

 

A Mother's Love and War

Sometimes, mom have no charm
no harm intended, she offends
mind blinded by pride, mom makes no apologies

We love her any way, forgave words that stung
go tell, she means well, giving hell
spewing wrath like hot ash

Mom demanded respect, seen as suspect, arrested
unforgiven, ignored by one she loves
socially crazed, she retaliated moms grey headiness 

The heart wants that which was lost, and
one uncertain dove, looked for twig after a flood, and
mother's love is never above, discerning right and wrong

LEVELS ONE TO FOUR

It is good to work and save
but not from hand to mouth
To work as a common man
is a really hard story to tell

Working at a level as low as ours
with earnings gone on food alone
We have nothing to show the world
when all is drained away from us

Pity the upright common man
whose hope is in all he can do
Be it hard or menial work
It is a careworn strive to survive

The struggle to make ends meet
makes us the faceless fraction
answering yes ma and no sir
who may never live above poverty line

The Key To My Mind

I no longer allow others to control me,

Because I am the one who holds the key.

I will not shake in fear or distress,

I will stand my ground while others detest.

For whatever reason against me they shall hold,

I will not break down, I will be bold.

My days of angry, fear, regret and inner doubt,

Is gone and i will climb the mountains to shout.

You can yell and scream and curse as much as you're able,

I will stand firmly unshaken, you, however, will be unstable.

Others no longer have control over me or my mind,

Fix On

In the wee of the morning
allowed to just reflect

'tis yesterday's 'morrow
I don't know what to expect.

I can actually hear the lamp bulb
can truly feel my thoughts;
whichever limb I fix on.

Under yesterday's shadow
a weary attitude,

I literally played my harp, out
not a lot to conclude.

So I stretched out with my mind
reached past of what I know
beyond the limits that I fix on.

The 'morrow is nigh
I reached out, yesterday;

HOUSEHOLD CHORES

There things that only women do
Some men boast of what they can do
Do not laugh at what I have to say
How would you describe a normal day?
Let us divide the chores in the household
See what portion you may claim to hold
Who does the cleaning and sweeping?
Who does the cooking and washing?
Lest, on menial things, the master’s time is wasted
For such, the children’s usefulness is tested
Is it the woman who runs the house?
While the man claims to own the house
Is it the man who deceives the woman?

A Shiner Tonight

The crescent moon hangs bright
in the sky
which I admire

Getting in my car, sore
it's really cold 
nursing one eye, a tooth, a leg, an elbow

Lifting bad leg, inside
to follow in step, nearby
the other, little past eight, tonight 

Its not too late
slow in pace, no haste
holding back irritation

Letting it go
never show
or give another thought

Enjoy crescent moon's shine
a  shiner tonight, hanging high 
in the dark evening skies

Response To Hate

I find the moments of my life
invariably filled with strife
are caused by those who are hell-bent
on making others malcontent.

They lay their futile helpless rage
on those they think they can enrage,
and thus drain all of their own ire
by fueling others' angry fire.

Once I would have let them do this,
make me so intensely furious
that I would inevitably snap,
and make them eat their own damn crap,

D I S O L U T I O N

through the hour
the minutes drip
like rain from
easing branchs

translucent images
inverted
stretching to free
themselves
in brilliant spheres
like stars in a ballet
radiant beauty
caught in the glare
of the charmed lamps
the satin shinning
the strata skirts
white as snowflakes
weaving poising

wavelength blown
winds infused
with haunted
decadence

Water Down

If I never took the opportunity - test
I'll say what's truly in my heart'
plus I've a mind to say it, now.

Ink shall be my vehicle
lined paper my only grid.
Hopefully, the meaning won't be lost
in the mouthing of the words.

These utensils are both primitive, and vague at best;
so lean ever closer so as to hear me better,
and try to read my words as I have carefully scattered them.

Forgive me my arrogance in assuming
what I have to say is important,
these are but my own personal feelings;

I Envy The Woman Whose Lips

i envy the woman whose lips
your ample mouth has gently kissed
whose very look enslaves your soul
i ponder yet all i have missed

i envy her still whose arms
press you to her breasts so tenderly
who shares your secret hopes and dreams
and keeps your fire burning steadily

i envy the woman whose bed
your long lean body slumbers in
forgive my heart*s dear love desires
that which others consider a sin

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