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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.

 

DRAGLINE

consumed with waves
the shadowlair
shock lies sleeping

its true marble wonder
keeping
these smooth offerings
of love and damage

and white cap bitterness
shall wash
away the little tears

feel the true storm
ravaging bones
alive she cried

and the velvet night
will supplicate
the wound
and soothe
the ache
of heartbreak

A Looking Glass, Darkley

I saw through a looking glass, darkley
there were raindrops running down

and every day
was the same way

in this dismal, little town.

Not everyone had lights that shined
some you couldn't see at all

they may have sinned
or lost theirs in the wind

for the season was always fall.

The smattering of lights that shown
were few, and far between

but, the light allowed
by that small crowd

made the streets seem not so mean.

Then, in the light of day
the dark ones deep in debt

Lovely Dreams

Love and dreams,
are two banks of a river

neither can meet the other

and

Eventually we must veer
to meet each other,
across all waters and barriers

and

then you will know,
i do,
What you do
too.

Snowglobes of C-rae

Cool, Cheshire nights
following extraterrestrial days at the walk-in cinema;
to a day where you said to bet a horse named, "Five, daddy, five"!

Which all wouldn't have been possible
if it weren't for the collapse
of a long discarded picket fence
that watched you learn to walk.

I shared that fence with a girl I thought I knew
or wanted very much to have a shot at trying to
understand.

But, my point is this;
we two shared the brightest neon glow that "true magic" has to offer !

Dreamer

A dreamer

That’s all I’ll ever be

Give me a day

I’ll dream a Sea.

Consumed by fantasy

Within me is a place I’d rather be

Yet I live a life that isn’t me

Interested in nothing

Fearing nothing

There is no one I’d rather be

Family and friends think they understand me

I see life as a tree

A cycle of constant velocity

The norms of society, don’t apply to me

I desire to go about it differently.

Accounts Payable...

Thinking of all the things doable
the best of them seemed renewable
Like the ones used to avoid catastrophe
the ones of which he had no mastery

For each, he would have given a penny
for each, of which there were many
But he had no salary, this man named Mallory
nor did his wife, name of Jenny

Now he was the object of scorn
in his coat and shoes so worn
In the eyes of the rich
he was down in the ditch
wishing he never was born

Virtual Pagan Protection For a Candle Witch I Know

her's is a flame that splinters night,
unflickering and solid in our hearts
to make the darkest of us bright
and unify our shattered parts

she casts the gleam of cleansing light
her candles bring into our dark
with unrelenting sense of right
no lies can ever mar or mark,

for all of us she is deep prayers
lifted up on chanted lips afar
rising in the moonbeam cares
of gleaming poem and candle star.

Who has God joined?

She called him from his sleep
and begged for his tenderness
to embrace, his intimacy was
not her arousal for they had
already separated
the darkness from the light,
they had argued between fantasies
that day about
the meaning of relationship
between sex and love
neither were in denial,
she had aspirations of a goddess
whose feet must touch the earth
to open the hearts of men,
he simply lusted
and wanted release,
she had grown impatient
with his childish ways,

Jess 14:6

I am
the wank
the poof
and the wife
No man cometh unto orgasm but by me.

Well it's not necessarily so
there are many ways I know
still if you want the real truth
you don't need no polling booth

If anyone says there's only one way
and different ones say the same
consider them all and say
you're all wrong
and all to blame.

To be blunt
anyone who believes in one truth
is a smug cunt

Pretility

I met someone so lovely
just, the other night;

she was sort of a princess
at least, I think I've got that right.

Then, there was a distinct prettiness
to which, we'd all adhere;

supposedly to erase the mess
of which, I'm not real clear !

We all go on our journeys
of that, you can depend;

rarely do we get an inkling
if we ever earn a friend.

'Tis we, ourselves that edit
by what we say, and what we do;

through all the grey, we make our way;
to prove what we think, true.

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