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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.

 

Formica And Chrome

peppermint pole spirals

"open
three chairs
no waiting"

"who's next?"

doesn't matter
the old guys like hanging around

politicians to tear up
wagers to concoct
old stories to embellish
jokes to repeat
even some gossip now and then
and obituaries
lots of them
bragging rights
tall tales
and damned lies

no woes though
men don't "talk"

Protagonist

He keeps to himself
A stranger in his own skin
Wearing society’s rejection
As a winter coat

He spits out the taste
Of sour failure
Awaiting the moment
To spread his wings
Out of this nightmare
That seems to
Never end

He writes nightly
Until his journal
Runs out of pages

He listens
As people call him
Awkward

His room is a sanctuary
That plays host
To Creativity’s offspring

ASTERISK

you came to me
and drew me in
the velvet closeness
dark and daring

our plots
and thoughts
like rich veins
thick and singing

the waves of want lapping
thirsty as a stray
and how we played
and now we stay

haunted
extricated
slowly
one bruised leg
at a time

sweet this wind
that seeps
through this

and your touch
lands like a gunshot
hot and stinging
the
equisite graze of
these wounds
another notch
on our scarred hearts

IN THE IMAGE OF A HOUSE-HELP

Master, speak for thy servant hears
The assigned tasks taken to the end
Back in time, long ago, I do not know
When it began and what history has to say
On this seemingly low office of mine
Addressed often as aide or servant
Yet, the high and mighty seek to secure
Their positions with a plea to serve

Rejection

Sounds of skin on silk

break the stillness

as she stirs in her sleep.

His chest heaves, hot and empty.

After their passion, before her sleep,

his pleas for a life together

were spilled before her

in torrents she denied,

in a deluge unabsorbed.

tempestuous affair

the air hangs stiffly
clouds sharpened by frenzied winds
of change
the contour of devastation
raves against itself in a poem,
colour and contrast strike an
uneasy truce
with the underworld--
to the surface, rise;
the ferry across is sinking fast into
pomegranate seed

my house is not a home, my abode
is not a poem,
a deck of cards
shuffled by some fanciful breeze
and scattered into
a compendium of inner silence
i bear down as If i am giving
birth to time itself:

WHERE STREAMS FLOW FREE

"WHERE STREAMS FLOW FREE"
Margaret Ann Waddicor may 2011.

Wooded landscapes, trees
where mists caress their leaves
their gentle winds and breeze
sway birds and beasts.

To be bereft of these
what solace sun and heat
no grasses green beneath my feet
no mud
exotic flowers seduce the perfumed air
a shock
the azure turquoise water
oceans edge
green hedges so monotonous
canals
with cormorants egrets alligator threats

Occasionally (self awareness)

Occasionally
I tend to think
selflishly
I believe the world
revolves around me

Complacency
is my cross
comfortably the chains
of unawareness
hold me
the thought
of another's needs
elude my self-involvement

Reality
has the ability
to smack the face
of sureness

I awaken to the fact
that nothing
is written in stone
at any moment
I can lose

Sonnet on The Man

(little opening poem):
"A story joyful striking none as cold
needst never find its heroes fierce and bold.
'Tis fortunate such myths seldom unfold
and thence, as luck will grant, my tale's still told."

O, that the child was ne’er conceived at all
nor yet excessive tell his birthing cries
cast not of God, but else God’s nearest ties.
Without he live, none founder ‘neath the pall.

DINOSAUR

My weakly attempt at free verse

Four wheeled nodes of color
rush frantically to and fro
down dark grey dividers
seperating vertical geometries
of
..pastel brick
...marble white
....concrete gray
...........bones.

A peppering of pigeons
spices the hazy air,
itself a smorgasbord
of ripe aromas

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