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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.

 

long Meadow

In the long meadow
a fair maiden gazed
longingly, as she strolled
through the long grass.
With finger tips caressing
the petals of silk

She seemed to float
through the long meadow.
Why is she there?
Was it for her lover?
A secret tryst!

To be with her knight,
who rides on a
charger white.
A stallion strong.

The lady in green
looking so serene.
A day for day dreams,
her heart gives a flutter.

THE FOLLOWING

rain rivers
black and curving
held by papers
old

fragments of
yesterday is swimming
against the naked curb
bright green grass
will take the tales
drink it in
like a thin sin

there are carnations
behind the glass
and sharp thorn
beauty
waiting

the water will fill
the vases
and fine print
distortions will
etch the clause

chimes are ringing
in the breeze
like phantom
spirits that dwell
making light their
songs to sell

Midnight Marriage (Ottava Rima)

Soft wavelets grip and grasp a gleam of light
as if to poke and play curtsy and bow.
This welcomed dance as eyes coerce delight,
is altered with the gifts that they endow.
Such sway could swoon the darkest part of night
enhanced by joy upon a beaded brow
and rhythm spun would turn a tune to sing
with diamond sparkled gems to wed the spring.

MEMORIAL DAY

One day a year they line the road
gray haired old men in uniform
and young men carrying life's load
with one less limb than is the norm

They stand or sit in worn wheel chairs
either way they're straight and proud
all looking with thousand yard stares
high school band plays badly but loud

All in front of "ONE DAY SALE"
signs in windows of every store
when anthem plays and soldiers pale
you remember what this day is for

rows

how still the sky
that falls between
rows and rows of white crosses

in snow white Yule marble
lies three,
known but to God

"No Greater Love"....
echoes
like Taps in the breeze.

When it's gone

To feel
a great passion
deep within
knowing
it is but a dream
To have lived that moment
traveling
on endless waves of love
holding it
believing it will live on
for eternity

Oh truth,
please do not
let me see
the end of this
which I think will
make me live
for it is death
to be without the touch
of a heart
that lives inside
my very being

empty fields

the dream i have
scares me
people fucking
on a huge field
surrounding us
and we walked around
bumping them
gasping at them
lost,
desperate

i opened a window to
let summer visit me
closed my eyes as
it patted my cheek

and i wanted the field
i wanted you and i
making love among
cornflowers and sunflowers

i woke up
hating the dream

Enlightenment...

Not every empty space on the canvas needs to be filled
All secrets don't have to be exposed
Not everything written... should be
What I don't know, doesn't always need to be known

What I do know... is that some mysteries should be left
to expose themselves slowly
like artifacts eroded from the sands of time
Fossils from the past, to be found in the future
when I need reassurance that I have lived

Symphony Of A Squall

a cool breeze sets the tone
leaves twist and turn
rustling like cabassas
in a restless rhumba band

the pace quickens

a whistling glissando
rises higher and higher
then, in unison
leaves roll over
backsides to the moon

somber harmonics emerge
a mad tympanist
antagonizes the sky
into self-announcing
drum rolls of rain

this movement ends abruptly

leaves return to the opening theme

a graceful shimmy
flicking pizzacato raindrops
back to the sky

A private matter

I still remember your smile,
a distant promise on your lips,
and the brownest eyes
calmly speared my ignorance

you became my private cosmos,
who could make the sun weep
unlocking a primordial shiver
my gentlest destroyer:

nor the world's strongest army
could offer
when your hands spoke
of intimacy
melted heavens with hells
into an eternal sunset:
magic in the smallest gesture awoke

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