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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.

 

standing ovation, an Ode to Joy

someone has been chain-smoking
poems again, damn it man,
I wake up
coughing,
free verses for July's heat
running down my breasts
like fingers that never touched me
long enough to say hello:
it's been a long time between
the comfort of sex
between us
and the madness
of elation reaching
torrid zones
that enters deep water and makes
even the rain beg for more

Euphoria

With eyes set beyond the horizon
back turned to the distant shore
suspended in the oblivion
between darkness and light
the sound of silence
greets the soul
into a peaceful Nirvana

Garishly paved

Garishly paved

Who will dare to run
the red streets
our young
fall bleeding life

they have turned
corners where jack
waits sharp
eager a hunger
to be sated

the thin blue line’s
ticking off minutes
they don’t know

to many cowards jacking
anyone who wears

colours causing chaos
the commute just
rolls her eyes
travels in a
different direction

the wind blowing downtown

this city is a woman
said the man on collins street
he held a brown bag of fortune
his eyes were salt
someone must love
this body of his
(i wonder if he beats her?)
over tall towers
gulls wheel and rise
trucks stomp and groan

to love a woman is
to try it out for size
what it is to be
a swollen fruit
i too, have a heart
full of redness and
dark seeds
i too, share secrets
and dark truths

Haiku about Owls 5/7/5

Stalker in the night
Prowling from swaying treetops
Owl catches her prey

THE DEAD HAVE NOTHING

Strides we make in life’s long journey
The things we acquire, who will own them?
When the sun sets, bringing darkness to bear
On glitzy cars, houses and fêted moments
When tints of candle light are left behind
And the eyes opened to see in silent night

Some may say, the dead have nothing
When material reality is a by-product
Of the coming and going from this world
Others may say the dead live in our recalls
Had names, and if not, just call them things
For something can not come from nothing

Oh, Mother

Oh, mother
Dressed in misery
Your broken spirit
Darkens the heavens

Democracy’s birthplace
Left in the hands
Of savages
That left decency
Somewhere far away

Uncertainty dances
To the sound
Of shattered
Dreams

The quiet night
Is woken
By corruption’s
Laughter

Pericles cries
from his grave
as Socrates
debates tyranny
Children of tomorrow
watch parents
sell their fortunes
for a piece
of comfort

Paintings that Swirl

It's been more than thirty years since I gave up smoking
but I never wrote a poem about my secret craving while
draining the spaghetti, waiting for you to come home

don't have the habits no more that led to old habits
rising to the ceiling, declaring their independence,
while listening to Billy Collins read his poem
about his last best cigarette,

SHARED TREKS

Do ghosts of Clovis people walk
in woods beside me as I wander?
Are they with me as I stalk
sharing every hunt, I wonder?

I've found some shards they left behind
both in forests and plowed meadows.
Each time I do it brings to mind
I'm not the first to walk these sylvan shadows

In the low rustle of oak leaves
are those muted whispers that I hear
woven among the gentle breeze?
If so, the soft words are unclear

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