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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.

 

Diwali 2011

May the darkness accept the light
and shadows cringe no more
may distance be surpassed and unsurpassed
by its own beauty breaking through
my heart to yours,
your heart entwining mine;
may we touch the embraceable
with its untouchable mystery
may we speak the language
of love in its ten thousand intonations,
may we use our time wisely
to join forces with the light no clever darkness
can escape,
may we always be children
in wonder of it all
dancing in the flame,

MISTAKEN FOR A MAD MAN

A middle aged man worked in the market
Doing a bob-a-job to make a living
He carried baskets of banana and beans
And collected stipends for body and soul

With wheel barrow, he rolled in the goods
From the road to the sellers’ stalls inside
In and out he ran to catch up with the day
While dirt covered him from head to toe

When evening came he packed his kit
And picked up his tattered umbrella
With pockets full of small bills and coins
He set his steps to meet his wife at home

THE GENTLE TOUCH OF GRACE -major rewrite

I felt something lingering near
terrifying and unforgiving
waiting somewhere.
The noise of living broke
into a silence, fading pale
and I fell into dreaming.

I dreamed of rivers flowing crimson red
fields of wheat burning black
flames ripping through raging skies
I saw angels with dark wings spread
singing unholy litanies
souls lost to Heaven on their knees
God was dead…

Yes the World Does

The world needs more
Positive poets and friends
like you and many

We all are just passersby
here today,
Tomorrow where will we be?
Who that can ever say

I am your friend
I say for just
Today…

Rhyming Workshop

This Workshop is a joy to employ
So don't be coy, consider your ploy
To profit from rhyme experience

Getting fatter has never been better
Filled with inner poetic meter
Bulging rhyme skills, bloating knowledge

The 2011 Oktoberfest Carolina Princess, happy
My pageant baby, excited, given a penny
She added to her calculate piggy's many

Just as, contented poets, delighted
Write great poetry, enlighten
By leaders more than excited

Declarations

My window is the world.

A patch of light illumines
the Autumn leaf,
shimmers its veins,
its seminal understanding
of life in its transitional story,
I had two raspberry eyes and ten mulberry
fingers as a child,
I grew until I weighed myself down;

I picked flowers.

One Too Many ,..Perhaps

I have composed countless poems

As you all know
Since I have no fixed mind ,
nor fixture of mind,
I am a unique entity...

No two poems of mine are alike,
as I believe in variety

Loved Style,
All my while .

I stand in no row or queue
of recognition ,
as I know twill never come,
when I am alive .

But then it will be too late
Posthumously
Which they will.

Fields of Wildflowers

Dance in the arms of the devil tonight
You’re lost in the shadows, kept out of sight
You followed him through the back door
Where I found you, looking for more

You sat on the cold concrete
You let his hands search and creep
You lay in his arms, he sings
“You could be everything…”

And oh, does god have a sound?
Like a child laughing loud,
Or the birds singing this morning
But no; everything means ‘everything’
And you wake up alone, discarded as nothing

The Felling of The King

For those who have read Çaço, Man of the Morning Star this poem is easily understood. For those who have not, it stands alone. One need not know the story to read this poem.

SKAVANGER

what is offered
the cast aside hearts
wounded like sleeping birds
dissaray feather
the wheels gather the day
spokes turning on the hub
the axis of plans emerging
from laneway shadows
like languid rooms and ghost
curtians leaning from tall
wooden frames

a mouth of extravanagance
a steady home of brick
hauled from the pits
kiln fired and set with
hands that rode open decks
for work

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