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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.

 

My Old Flames

She was my old flame
I can never remember her name;

she often tried to bite me,
at times it did excite me,

she was my old flame.

My gal Christine
she was pretty, slender, and mean;

she was such a vamp,
in fact was quite the tramp,

she was but a teen.

Then came Shirl
who really made my life twirl;

when she left me I got sad,
She treated me so bad,

thought she was the girl.

Then came Anne
I feared she might be a man;

Ma Ma

As I watch you my sweet Ma Ma sleeping in your bed,
so many old memories start flowing through my head.

Of times when I was little and you were always there,
giving your love so tender as nothing can compare.

It's so hard to see you so confused and so unaware,
of where you are or who I am it just seems so unfair.

But I'm sure the Lord is with you and keeps you in his care,
far from pain and suffering his love for you is clear.

QUIET PLACES

QUIET PLACES

At times
I curl up into myself
head low on my chest
arms in my own embrace
my thoughts no longer run to dreams
phantoms of fantasy
or to memories of bygone days
hauntings of the dead

Instead
I steal myself away
to quiet places inside of me
and
in whispers I speak
an unholy litany
to keep th the beasts at bay
as they begin to devour me
my soul and my body

Creativity Free Verse Poetry

Creativity at its best

More will write

Freer verse

We all came with our own minds
Why be only followers?

But Neopoet is going slow
As it does grow
Older poets are read
Yes
But none know.

Samaritan Woman by the Well

If you asked me what is changeless
I would have said nothing
once upon a time,
but clearly, on this morning of sunlight
streaming an early Autumn crispness,
one thing I know for sure,
(the rest of it is pure conjecture)
I know roots that grow love and happiness
never change, they feel the same no matter
the source,
anything else is its moderation and
banishment from the palace of light
within, the font that springs eternal
a well from which we draw.

Memoirs

like a flower;
in the icy winters,
awaiting it’s fall,

like a moon;
hanging overhead,
awaiting the inevitable dawn,

like a ball;
hanging by a thread,
waiting to bounce,

I fall.

Paralytic Diaries - Booze Hound , Entry One and Two

Entry One

Went out on the lash with my drinking pals last night,
i found myself at the bottom a whiskey bottle once again 
lost the plot between lip and glass,
stumbled and fell on my arse.

Decided to search for my sobriety in a can of special brew
used to make me see things clearly,
could not see for the clouds within.
lurched and puked again.

What A Way To Go!

to tumble to the end
like a child at play
down a soft grassy glen
on a sunshiny day

hugging the ground
spilling with laughter
ingratiating my bound
to the ditch of hereafter

Hooves Of Fire

Have you ever felt the wind rush through your hair,

And did it make you feel like you could go anywhere.

Did the thundering hooves of the horse you mount,

Make your heart race and pound.

Did your face feel cold from the wind rushing by,

Yet you couldn't help but but wonder why.

Why such a powerful creature let you ride,

And how can an animal always be at your side.

The power and confidence I feel when I'm on a horse,

Is so amazing and is like no other force.

At the galloping pace I feel the highest,

Anna Lee ( An old takeoff with erotic overtones)

Anna Lee

Speak softly breeze of passion's moan
O'er fields fresh plowed in fertile loam
Of musky scent and maiden grown.
Stout was the tree with vigor plied
To rend the valley of earthly pride
And sweet the deaths where passions vied.
Damp the forest so freshly rent;
The seed lies planted with passions spent
And tree once stout now lying bent.
A maid she was, sweet Anna Lee
A rose of love blooms heavenly
Her petals opened - sweet ecstasy.

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