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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.

 

Passion(Splash Pool submission) re write

Mon, 2011-09-12 10:53

China Blue's picture

re write

Passion is the tides
Surge, ebb and flow
The roar of an approaching storm
The flame of desire's
Burning heat

A lion’s hunger
When on the prowl
To the ocean’s depth
It is felt

Lust never fulfilled

Love is a comfort zone
An unconditional giving
Where no boundary lines are drawn
A knowing without a whisper
A reading of the signs

Love always fulfilled

much ado about nothing

Cocktail strangers sit at the banquet table
make some polite dinner conversation,
quite by chance, forbidden topics are introduced
and long sharp fangs come out of hiding,
then gorging ourselves on one another
like vampires feasting in daylight hours
we spit out kernels of truth
choke on what is denied,
vomiting the hideous curse of human hunger
like self-indulgent vultures
picking, picking on the curvature of scabs
and lightning ligaments
like libertine lies learned in the cradle and the womb

PRIVATE SHOW

As dawn breaks the world is still,
no breeze disturbing woods or rill,
while I sit on this hill thinking,
motionless also, nearly unblinking,
of peace and quiet I've my fill.

Many leaves have fallen down.
Their vivid shards adorn the ground
on this frosty autumn morn
when all the hay fields now are shorn.
A few squirrels start to leap around.

A working man

Your beard, rough, against my face
lover's sweat beading upon our bed,
lingering impressions, wheels in motion
calloused hands wrapped around my poem.

Autumn Sonnet

Autumn Sonnet

I hate to see the woodlands flirt
In Mother Nature's annual farce.
Trees coyly lift and shake their skirts
Leave old, dead leaves to litter grass

She KNOWS the frost and snow will come.
She KNOWS the weak and old will die
But still she thinks we are so dumb,
Again we'll seek pie in the sky.

And so this weary, unloved year,
Wends on towards its death, Goodbye.
And autumn will not warm nor cheer,
It is no beacon in the sky.

couplet

wounds heal, leaving scars
like morbid stones on greens

Tundra

a barren tundra
far far away from it all
there is nothing here

Lunatic

Fucking headache. Fucking genetic disposition.
Fucking wars, Sunday church bells, conspiracies
and conspiracy theories,
fucking bombs and white vans and blasphemy,
fucking death lurking around every corner, on the
110th floor or near a hovel in Bangladore;
Cerberus is a damned dog and there's sons of bitches
everywhere,
the gates of hell are never guarded, but what the hell
let's fuck and make it all go away.

Straight to the Heart

That is the way, at least, that's what they say.
You know, those folks, with wisdom words so wrong,
while fucking up the words to every song,
because they just can't leave well enough alone.

trochaic attempt;

That’s the way, at least, that is what is said.
Knowing folks, with wisdom words so wrong,
fucking up the lines in every single song,
all because they can’t leave any thing untouched.

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