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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.

 

Nothing More to Say

I held back waters, raging sea
for days, building inside me
words of contempment
spewed from your lips
weakened my resources

Days of sandbagging
building leveys
protect you from my wrath
gave way to alcohol
touching my lips

Now sea bursted
leaving no stone unturn
your city lay bare
eyes of those watching on
hoped I would just shut up

Tone down outrage?
soften blows to your ego?, but
what about my integrity
trampled down
left mangled

“Goodbye”

The future is unwritten, only time will tell.
The only certain event in this chapter book we call our lives are the goodbyes.
We struggle to find that one special thing in our lives, that one thing we'd do anything to hold on to.
We'd fight for die for just to keep it safe and hold on forever.
But in the end you have to let go and say your goodbyes.
Goodbye to your love ones.
Goodbye to your hopes and dreams.
Goodbye to those wishes you been wishing since 13.

Let me die tonight

The sound of sweet peace will never come so quickly, but defeat lingers in the air.
Death shows me no mercy, he laughs as I fall and beg, he doesn't care.
My screams in the night are drowned out by the wind, as I beg for forgiveness for all that I have done.
But however, I do not beg death or the one greater, I beg forgiveness from you.
I am nothing just another waste of space among the rest.
I am nothing special just another scar upon flesh.
I have accomplished nothing as if I learned nothing from the past.

GOODLUCK

The oracle predicted, not long ago
That an unusual change will come
To the great house of Akwa Owo
When a minor will be made a king
We found it hard to accept as true
Due to convoluted conditional ties
And unfeasible demands of the gods

The struggle for the crown came hard
Between the three big clannish lords
Who felt it was their bequest to rule
From southern seas to desert north
Leaving the vassals to find their holes
A hindrance of some sort, thus created
For the aspiring ethnic minorities

White down

White down
so high
and yet so lowly, soft,
your flecks of light
where brown turf darkens
damp,

so innocently growing
'spite the weather,
torn clouds,
against the blue or grey,

beside you green of moss
stone, heather,
grasses, hay,

not lauded
given honours like the rose
but there the mountain knows
your sweet repose.

Our Lost Generation

their days start with good intent
sparkly with spit to shine
bouncing out, the hours pass away
as does all decorum

blood soaked steps shimmer
whispering meekly, and pleading
to return to the beginning
but this nightmare has no end

our young go out into the world
landing so inebriated and lost
they could be seen as spastic
as another brain cell dies

a family somewhere mourns
devastation ripples our communities
our young continue to die
and some just sit and watch

Achilles loses the race

Imagination.

It's all about God (the roving bandit she is)
playing with all the missing pieces, stealing all the
best lines never written
and blowing scene after scene with a wintery breath
the first night of her refusal in her deep purple phase,
the moonglow her pale-skinned backdrop.

Believe it or Not

You hope the one you're with
is true, but
know it's just delusions.
give benefits of doubt, but
is often wrong

Rug you stand on
steps rely on
fallen ladder from roof top
leave you stranded
on dry rotted shingles

Home of hopes, dreams
cherished memorable fruits
faded love on dead stems
sit idle in stained vase
no longer haven for marriage vows

Nest is empty
birds, damaged feathers
return home, tattered
weathering the storm
of life tragic lessons

Fed Love

let's feed our love dripping
to the mother and watch the
soft kisses
dribble down her
chin

paint her diner napkin
as coffee silhouettes embracing on lipstick
smudges under
a coy hand
hiding

folds of paper pushing against
pulling into plying apart pressing upon
each other
sticking with their
wetness

to her lips smiling corner
lay the shadow or a sweetness
wiped away
by the imaginative
creases

Title? What title?

Steam from an engine is rising
masking a frothy dark umber.
Cream colored foam hangs upon it.
Crusting and dripping it changes.
Muscle in movement formations
shaping on cold winter mornings.
Exercise done, I untack him.

I can think of no subject more mundane than my job. Parse this sucker please.

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