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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.

 

CHARRED

I taste smoke
and feel heat
books seared
words forgotten

erase teachings
to teach a new order

mélange

"we've blended energies, even
our atoms dance in syncopated heat."
I say
"you're quite scientific,"
you said
"i've married both sides...
searching for God until i discovered love."
i say

you held me close
and we fell asleep

when the first bird sang of praise,
you wrote a poem,
i asked if you found the words,
you did

die Prognose

ich doese in der Sonne
und das Mitleid
hat mit der Begeisterung und dem Kutter

wir sind besorgt
und der Korbe wird nicht auftauen

das Geraeusch is schlaefrig
hoeflich
und auf die Schulter klopft ein Hand
neugierig und wissbegierig

der Erfolg hat keines Talent
nur die Disziplin
und meine Wortgewandtheit ist wagemutig
ehrlich nicht

ich habe den Verstand verlieren
und mein Herz
macht Karriere und besitzt die Lernbereitschaft

vieleicht habe ich vermasselt
misslangte

Theorum

Evolution considered, truth or dare ?
We are a planet of apes,
Drawn from the primordial ooze.
Quick to abuse.

We bare the burden of proof 
Pre-historic dwellers of earth
Developed and improved upon,
Since birth.

Adam and Eve created to deceive
Desperate for a comfort, 
Clawing for an explanation,
World filled with degradation.
 
We are aliens in a strange universe,
Infinite existence,
Or Armageddon to ensue.
Theory or hypotheses?

Broken Glass

A darkened room with a lone spotlight in the center
She lies there, balled up and sobbing
I can here shards of broken glass and water dripping
Under my bare feet the glass stings and slits my lining
I can hear her breathing
Her tears flood the floor
The glass glistens, the drips continue
“Why would you leave me all alone…” she sobs through the words
As I approach the perfect words escape my lips
“I am so sorry, things just happen…”
She looks into my eyes, I connect with hers

Apathy, My Cross

she
with her mop bucket
sleeps on a floor
of dirt
a cardboard fridge box
dented cans

a candle
from the church

she mops
keeping demons at bay
mumbles a prayer
she can't understand

and I can't understand any of this

is she strong
surviving so long
or weak
for letting it all come down to

just this

she is an old lady
so I side with the angels
assuming Those Storied Ones
stay ever close
watching over
her

Whispers Two....

Whispers two…

We don’t have an agenda
more a subtle guile
simply we distract our
Audience (that’s you)
and make it worth
their (that’s them )
while

See they are the unseen
as we are the same
knowing what they know
they want it to remain
we control the press
even the TV taking
gentle strides with
silent suavity

A Dust Of Fairy

Tiny little fairy, fluttering in the sky,
So beautiful,and full of wonder,
It makes me want to cry.

Her wings are the color of life,
Like a rainbow after the rain,
Or how the sun, colors the drops,
Clinging on the window pane.

The song she sings,with the setting sun,
Is a sweet and peaceful tune,
Telling us the day has faded,
And the moon will be here soon.

She curls up in a rosebud,
There she will make her bed,
The petal will be her blanket,
The bud is where she will lay her head.

BERM

position

we hold
and collusion crashs
the debris shinning
and jagged

while death dances

I held what I know
and gave what
was

and the grist
chewed up the edges
and seeped
deep
like a wound
that always cries
when memories
flame

and the blaze
never dies

a handful of Lakewood sand

at the risk of red leaves unfurling
perennial wisdom just outside
my peripheral vision, their lace
reeling against the city potholes
sinking deeper into ich bin ein Clevelander
despair,
i confirm that it is spring
trumpeting its pageantry
as the pages turn,
just before the summer of past
regrets ferrets its pensive conclusion

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