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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.

 

SUMMER LOST

There was a time when love was free
to make and share it had no price.
It was alright to just "be";
liberation was the only vice

But that was many wars ago
ere innocence of youth was lost.
Like old piles of dirty snow
now mortality figures in the cost.

For love can now result in death
and needles don't deliver life.
Where now the beauty which took my breath
cutting as deep as any scythe?

~air of contentment

the heart of a woman

is deeply rooted

like a wild violet

 

and to know

the way berries warm inside a

hand

to watch vines unfold a thousand

blossoms

see poppies spread wide

open

 

to know this

is the only wisdom

worth knowing

A DAY AND A NIGHT

The world would have been flat
One long day without the night
If a rotating earth was not to be
Imagine the world-wide weariness

A day by a half, is laid to rest
When the sun sets in the west
Man, charmed by it, takes a respite
From the flurry, fanning the flames

His actions continue, but shifted
To the realities of the dreamland
Collapsing place, space and time
As he travels through his mind

the day Berlin brought down the walls

by the time you think you're a poet
you've huddled with your sacred cows
and piddled your father's fortune away
and then you think you can rhyme yourself
into oblivion with nothing but a pocketful
of verse

MOUNTAINS' BLINK

They say these bones are ancient
which stand sheer, cleft and gray
remnants of forgotten Everests
now near gone, weathered away.

What did they look like way back then?
Did snow cap them throughout the year,
crests far above the tree line when
Luna orbited so very near?

Among those crags what fliers soared
and what creatures trod the flanks?
Were there flowers in the nooks
blooms on rushing water's banks?

THE FATE OF MAN

Stunning and sloppy flowers concur
Where cherubim and seraphim wait
In the garden with the wafting wind
Along with flaming swords, watching
Over the children not to eat the fruit

A child’s play, deep in memory
With the other who sought for freedom
To treat as equal in the blooming estate
What were her virtues if not assayed?
A serpent lurked, enticed with a fruit

linger here

trace me into yourself
before your throbbing
subsides
let the skin of our skin
not separate with its
consuming desire

and
we will have turned to ash

but enter me with a handbook
of poems, take me like a
conquered land, just leave
me with enough sighs
to bask on the island
that separates
us for all eternity,

linger here, my love.

the middle finger is the flag I wave

my poem was locked
and loaded
it was hijacked and
misconstrued
ill winds came to blow
it off course,
of course,
and now there's hell
to pay and
no one to pay it

everyone is fast asleep
in their own little sleepy heads
in their own little towns without pity

give me freedom of expression
or gag me with contempt
blindfold me
and bind my hands, cut out my
tongue, and break
the Statue of Liberty into a hundred-
thousand shards of verdigris

POKER HONTAS

POKER HONTAS

I'm hopeless at poker and each time I play,
I end up by losing another week's pay.
But this time it's different, my bad luck just fades,
I look at my hand and I see I've five spades!

I win that hand easily, get myself steady,
My luck must be in, so for winning I'M READY.
Next hand is a beauty, four aces, one queen
But the game has been rigged, like a Hollywood scene.

The Blacksmith

He rises early as cockerel yields,
His rallying cry in blazing sky ,
over dewy fields.

And all of life is stirring,
and chatter with their song,
as honey bee in shrubbery,
is busy all day long.

A cup of water a morsel of bread,
while foul scurry, who not been fed,
in frenzied hurry, as their led.

He takes some wood to make a fire,
to fashion the instrument of His desire,
and stokes the embers still with heat,
and pumps the bellows with his feet.

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