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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.

 

Coming Home to Roost on Wallstreet

There are beggars in fields of wild red roses,
savage rooms grow in brick and stone, in driftwood
and the busy street,
I can not point a finger of indictment to the untouchables
in your head.

If no one bears responsibility like a forlorn tusk into the arena of brave politics
who will be left behind?
What would it take to set free the lepers?
Heave the stone from your shoulder and retell the story you tell yourself,
turning away from....
your tears washing four corners
and counting crows.

Savage

Would you notice if I disappeared?
To you I’m an infinitesimal dot
On the page, but hidden from sight

 

Did you ever really see me there?
Did your brain ever really compute
And work out if I had a name

I know I exist that’s the twist

I’m still here
Yet pain slashes and plunges deep

Burning

The wound engulfs my brain
You don’t need me

You don’t want me

That’s clear and plain
 

Lennon probably...

Lennon Probably…

I offered direction but no one followed,
wrote a truth pill but no one swallowed.
It felt as though your heads had been hollowed
Screaming family’s with coffins, hearts sorrowed

If I were here today,
I’d probably end up crying

Get off your knees there’s no time to pray
we got to keep asking why us, why still today?

To Where Do You Flee?

I thought it wise to bury her
Where no one else could find.
To hide her body in a place
That each of us once knew,
But to which none of us could
Ever, quite return.

I thought it wise to hide the memories,
The good, the bad and even the violent.
To quench all passions,
To dry our tears and move on.
Never to turn back.

I thought it wise to let her go
Back to the shadows of your thoughts,
And of mine.

Her last words were addressed to me:
"Time, to where do you flee?"

Opening Doors

A lesser man couldn't have written your poetry,
and a lesser woman would have found herself
in someone else's poems;
but today is unlike other days
and words are not scrambled, inarticulate and senseless
lying with an immaculate muse,
you just have to fuck her
long enough to make her worship you
to guide your hand along the pathways
to her soul,

do not let her out of your sight, do not weep
if she seems reticent to entice you to her bed,
do not go to sleep
with words you keep.

THE CHANGELING- edited

THE CHANGLING

I begin to move robotic
In a misty haze, blue indigo
Toward the black of oblivion
Lead seeps heavy gray into my veins
And I cling to who I am
My soul hides in Memory’s warm embrace
As the poison filters through my brain
And for a brief eternity
I know what dying is

Purarity

Stamped out errors on vintage coins
a unique response to a phrase just turned.

Maybe a club only agoraphobics joins
or the number of times an Eskimo gets burned.

Several, icy-cold, mid-summer breezes
a moment so magical, it makes you aware;

even the causalities from unknown diseases
all of these things equal something, rare.

All my life I've tried to be unique
with my individuality defining me, too;

thinking out of the box, and resembling a freak,
yet proud my own signature still shined through.

WHY MAN

Thinking people have asked
questions which perplexed
the mind of man on the nature of self
and of the universe in which it exists

Should a self-sufficient God
complete in Itself
create an imperfect earth
and place within it living things?

That would be so
if they were separate

Whereas we look for answers
for a purposeful cause
with limited senses
in mysticism, philosophy and religion

Aggravated Assault...

Those brooding eyes and tensed brow had mystery
Questions need answers, and She was curious
With a slow dance of seduction, she bound him,
made him a prisoner

He smiled and endured for a score of years
She never figured out, what his mystery was
Losing interest long ago
Left alone in his cell of despair, he plotted...

Coils of cold, slithered in to wrap around his soul
There were lies in the mirror; he heard them whispering
Eyes followed him wherever he went, and he knew...
The world conspired against him

Eating pussy

There was a young man from Mauritius
Who found eating pussies nutritious
Roasted boiled or fried
It cannot be denied
That the meat was sublimely delicious

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