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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.

 

What the wind whispers

Love me like it was only yesterday
Hold me as if i am there today
Please god I don't want to fade away
I only want to stay
Watching the flowers in May
But theres nothing I can say
For I died that day
My spirit can't find a place to lay
One by one my respects they pay
Here I must sit listening to her play
The sad song she sings among the hay
Darling, I have found my way
Your song having been the sun ray
to the darkness that it slay
I'm the wind, watch the trees sway

in the needle's eye

The ebbing life of leaves--
my long ago heart
like a dream catcher hanging on

I cannot persuade you,
bear no gifts of consolation
or reconciliation,
just lonely poems, meeting
clay feet on mother earth

rosemary and lavender hint at our passing
the scent of us
leaving nothing behind,
the forest grows wild again
like a vacant stare.

ANIMAL--edited

Animal

I pace side to side
trapped insde
I’ve lost my speed .
and can no longer run
my reactions are slow to come
but I still hunt and feed
to stay alive

my wounds cut deep
I smell of death
I’m easy to find

my will is strong
I am ruthless
cunning by need
and when I strike
I strike to kill
to save my life
and hold what is mine

Like Jairus' Father

I feel this morning
like Jairus' father
when he saw with his eyes
the work of God.

Who is like Him,
I ask?
I've never even heard of another God
Who can do the things He does.

There is no room
for debate,
philosophy
or discussion.
I've seen Him myself.

The Lord took me to the pit
to show me how deep,
and fearful,
and hopeless it is.

But He took me by the hand,
and never released me.
I tell you,
the Lord pulled me up
to safety.

A Quip

How good are the wings
if we can't feel the wind in our face
how good are the waves
if we can't feel their passion

Emergancy Exit... (A ROUND ROBIN POEM)

Inspired by SCRIBBLER! just post 1 stanza at a time to continue the poem. Let's see where this goes.

Groping in the darkness...
Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?!
Looking for the cold release of steel.
Frantic in the search for death.

the blacksmith's anvil, the lovers' bed

Pythagoras was a music critic
all things in relationship,
harmony and proportion is beauty
the universe is ordered,
sequenced and nuanced

all planets are aligned with clouds
of free thought,
in its center, we are lovers
making love
ascending
and descending, blending ripe
juices of conquest

I am Frida wild on your fingertips

sometimes the best poems are a
canvas
created from nothing,
sometimes we have
nothing to say, sometimes we break
down, lacking even the scorch of air

SILENT WOODS

The leaves about are mostly green
but many have become bright red
as crimson as bold roses seen
in midst of any flower bed.

After the thunder, all is still,
nary any type of wild birds sing.
The slightest whispers now sound shrill
and bitter haze makes tired eyes sting.

The passing tempest left trees shattered
on both sides of this rutted road
where once horse drawn hearses clattered
while transporting their dismal load.

I REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME

I remember the first time
My parents took me to school
I wore an oversized white shirt
Tucked into a large brown khaki shorts
With braces hanging on my shoulders
I stood in the middle of the class
With a black slate and chalk in hand
Like a fish out of water, quivering
The sight of the teacher with a cane
Made me afraid and I cried

Observation - entry three the paralytic diaries

Booze Hound entry three 

Noticed Lou watching me
Typing upon her iPad 
Furiously recording
my mishaps and my triumphs  

God that bitch is scary 
Tried to lose her
Running down side streets
Dodging into pubs

Breathless and about to pass out 
drenched in alcohol laced sweat
Hiding in doorways 
But she still observes

I fall over and play dead
On a pillow made of my own vomit,
she still pursues, and posts my news
Booze Hound and his daily abuse.

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