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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 Pen

At the sound
Of her voice
Agony grows
Weary

She knows
The pain
Of living with
A two headed demon
That nauseates
Stomachs

She understood
The fear in a voice
The sweat dripping
From palms

Finding safety
From the seed of
Growing paranoia

Dancing on the page
Leaving images behind
Giving birth to words
That saves

Pilots of Pages...

Pilots of Pages.

I set my pen against paper
like a rudder entering water
the pen guides this paper
to it’s conclusion.
Such simple thoughts are
scary even hard to comprehend.

We are I believe pilots of the pen,
obtuse maybe, playful certainly,
serious sometimes, downright angry,
frightened, brilliant, almost anything
you can imagine we are, but pilots

Canto Two ~ It is dawn of the morning following.

Battle has ended, but the storm has not. Amidst the destruction common to combat's aftermath, a squeak of wagon wheels heralds the entrance of a small band. Three strange individuals, as unlike each other as three could be, come seeking those who yet remain alive upon the field.

Table

the window full of bright
I watch the birds hover
and slide from view
the traffic waiting for the light
and I catch the colour
of your hue
the calm serenity of you

the coffee rich I sip and taste
the hours watch
I must keep haste
the quick exam your beauty
based
the pale flow
hair held by bow

away and from the shop I walk
and listen to the ravens talk
and place this moment
under lock
for rainy days
and thought filled ways

Nature's words

Nature's words.

The firs and pines they speak
their wind tossed branches
wave their words
across the miles of lake
to echo in the firmament
up high
where skylarks fly
and birds of prey they wait
to spy the mouse and vole
far down below

Volatile

I'm a bitch
Jump in feet first
and think later.

Volatile witch 
quick to anger,
Curse and fight.

Someone attacks me 
they live to regret It
they will never forget it.

Filled with self loathing
Brimming with remorse,
Overflowing with regret.

Not to proud to admit
When I'm wrong,
Even when my foots in my mouth.

is there a doctor for the soul?

there is no cure
for this melodrama
there is blood on my fingers
where i touched your wounds,
you said we all have them
and some are well-hidden
some follow us with hound-dog eyes
inconsolable and lonely for his master,

the spirit of the wind
shakes the dream catcher
halfway to paradise

the parchment of this poem,
an unspoken sin
that catches fire,
our ashes rising,
sing.

My Wings

The flame in me
Which burns
Endlessly
Is about to be quenched
Awaiting my need
Is my love

On wings of gossamer
I fly like the birds
That migrate home
After winters cold
To the warmth
That touches me
Deep within my
Soul

Our love is a volcano
Erupting
Taking us beyond
The highest
Chakra
And holding us
In bliss

Fool Circle

Unripened fears
obscurred by misty, future tears

everblurring visions
of what I hope will soon happen to me;

daunted passions
clouded windows, and myriad "jarred" doors.

By my own admissions,
how can I know for sure that, a dream realized will console me?

Depressionatomy 101

Unlikely-like personified!
Guess who joined me in my realm!?!
The "lass" from Impressionatomy
has returned to overwhelm.

These days it doesn't take too much
for me to end up all "twitter-twirl",
I'm known in these parts for ruining topics
when talking to, or in front of a girl!

Who could even say, "why" she'd return
maybe last time seemed like, fun!
She's either brave, or awful dumb
most others would've turned to run!

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