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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.

 

Soft Whirlwind

Feels like a soft whirlwind
Caught in the space between
The instant I see your face
Till I finally taste your smile.

Seems only moments ago our hearts joined
And feels like years plus a day
Since I heard your enticing voice
Sensual and low next to my ear.

Anticipation dances on my lips
Quivering blood rushes in my veins
Empty arms reach forward
Restless to feel the impassioned heat of your skin

ON MISSING THINGS

I will miss the acrobatic squirrels
as they vault from tree to tree
searching for an acorn treat
while they fuss and bark at me.

I will miss the speedy rabbits
as they sprint from the brier patch
brown blurs dodging red tail hawks
when they dive beneath the thatch.

I will even miss the feral hogs
all their grunting as they root about
snuffling for some roots and grubs
with their blunt and muddy snout.

A MEASURE OF WISDOM

From the twelfth to the fourteenth tome
Kings chronicled their might and powers
Where a great ruler made a solemn request
For knowledge and wisdom above all else
To regulate fairly over all his subjects

In league with Hiram’s adroit workmen
Bequeathed a temple legacy to the craft
With treasures buried under the stones
Men went in search of a hush-hush grail
That remains elusive to the mundane

Insanity

Drip, drip, drip,
like a faucet leaking slow,
running through my mind,
like a rabbit in the snow.

Tick, tick, tick,
like a clock that counts the time,
snatching at my focus,
whirling like a dime.

I MISS MY UNDERWEAR

I MISS MY UNDERWEAR

I miss my suit navy blue
the buttons on my Ralph Laurens
crispy white
the times I could tie my shoe
and the nights my bladder made the loo

most of all I miss
my Calvin Klein underwear
boxers, briefs, high rise, low rise
any kind of rise
Speedos that set hearts reeling
Jockeys with that special feeling.

yet when all is said and done
the packaging may change
but the merchandise is still the same…

Poet

The wind seems far away
when the observer declares
independence, all things
pass within circles and hands
of clay....

If you will, demonstrate your ignorance
oh, small child of remarkability: you held
an elephant's trunk once and dreamed it
your own, you swallowed a dozen flies and
ate paste to build prisoner's walls.
There is nothing to stand between your head
but yourself. Counter the terror of the madness
you name.

In her shadeless declaration, only moonlight absolves.

morning sex during a thunderstorm

Spoon feeding each other
the rain
moaning with the thunder
zig-zag bodies convulsing

but you didn't like the poem
I wrote afterwards,
you said
it didn't do anything for you
and there weren't any lines
that jarred you

but hey, I could have said
sex wasn't earth-shattering
but I won't.

and all you could say is "better".

All I could think is yeah, it better
be better or this metaphor will
walk out the door.

"He loves me."

Reality Raised...

Reality Raised

Dreams are expectations thrown away with christmas paper,
expectations are hopes that we are given by the life shaper
The life shaper is never to be seen in his working gowns,
shapers get seduced by money to seduce the working clowns.
The man in the pink tee shirt talks a lot, maybe he is nervous,
a woman in a hat starts to scream, unhappy with the service.
all the fine bags, coats, can’t help themselves they’re dripping,
poor people on the march to work, puddles and potholes skipping.

MY MOTHER IS A WITCH

It is common to hear
Amongst the people here
Such unspeakable words
‘My mother is a witch’
They go ahead to say
Things hard to believe
Accept it or not
I know what I am saying

Instances are drawn
To affirm and to confirm
The mother stands guilty
As accused by wagging tongues

Days before our second baby
My mother saw something
That was in a dream
A baby in bathing water
With its face downward
Thereafter, we had a still born

KORROSHUN

between the hate
between the love
like the dissolved
temporary hearts
melting
in the swallow

these snows
late catching
the grey ghosts
oblique pain wrapped
like a thin chilled
cheater coat

we can be together
as the day falls to night
on old sheets
as a scratched disc
crawls about
thirty three and some
revolutions
we can go around
while snowflakes scratch
the cracked walls

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