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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.

 

Nothing

Nothing

So this is how it feels to be alive
And I haven't even lived yet
I give the clock a hopeful glance
It returns a coma face glare
I check my pocket watch
But it has long stopped ticking
I await a knocking at the door
But the letterbox rusted shut months ago
I hold the phone in my trembling hand
Longing for its melodic announcement
I observe the busy people passing my window
But I'm ignored and left to fester

Oh! Soldier

Oh! Soldier

It is beyond my stature,
To comment,
When all stalwarts,
Have given their scent

But still soldier,
I hopefully do venture,
I dare to comment
So do not lament!

I have seen worst volleys
In my life,
In the dungeons of the Far East,
The jungles were our temples
Gracing our strength,
Courage and peace,

Perhaps you may have heard of Vietnam,
Now tis Iraq or Syria in turn,
May be Pakistan
Or Lebanon

A Portrait Of My Love

My friend, fair of face
A gentle smile, full of grace
Lips that blow a kiss of charm
Smeared with fragrant healing balm.

My love, coyly sighs,
Rosy cheeks and deep blue eyes
Beauteous and quick to please
Melting me with quiet ease.

My bride, raven hair
Draped around her shoulders bare
Brushed with hands of ivory
Softly tied with purity.

My mate, ample breast
Clothed in linen, cotton dressed
Skin as pale as satin moth
Underneath the flimsy cloth.

"KROKJUVET"

"KROKJUVET"
Kook=hook; Juv= gorge; et = the.
Margaret Ann Waddicor 4th may 2011

THE HUNTER

Patience born of time afield
Knowlege gained by long experience
Stealth learned from endless practice
      garbed in dark to hide in shadows

The manifest of vitality, rewritten

Can you dream about the dead?
I ask the sunset, while she fleshes
at night and settles in shadow-colours.
Can you digest this bony reality,
like a dog, like a buddha, like a cross
on a Sunday morning?
I ask Schrödinger's Cat, while he purrs like
a drunken gutar, and pointed to a vision
in the harsh sky.
The savannah trembles in agony,
for the big Subjective awakes.
How to frame the honey-coloured clouds?
I ask Yggradsil, the tree with the many leaves;
he didn't reply, but sinks in a prayer,

Buried

Red, white and blue

waves good riddance

to evil

wrapped in white

and plunged below the North Arabian Sea;

The Most Wanted,

in a weighted body bag,

is buried among fish

and seaweed,

oceans away from the

ashes of the Twin Towers,

EVENING BANE

I open up a screenless door
early on this pleasant April eve
allowing in night sounds and more
fragrances waft for us to breathe

We sit upon the couch we share
enjoying senses and watching shows
attention divided here and there
between outside and T.V.'s glow

Until a whine betrays the bane
of warm evenings everywhere
a mosquito seeking to attain
blood from any skin left bare

A Story From The East (Inspired By The West)

It's more of a Friday night though it's a Sunday morn
for the Sun's so alive,filled with lights reborn
from my rusty bed a new hope came into life
a new care for honor but am I worth the fight?
or at least I'm to draw blood from my fist,
back to the trail where I fell dead with a dance and breeze
so that little by little I could retain courage to leave this fright,
whenever the ghost of her is drawn to my dimming sight...
twenty years are wasted in an ugly face of the Earth,

i, love and you

star filled skies hold
those tiny moments
the ones
you look up at and
remember

today we spoke for
one moment

it felt
like yesterday
when skies
were filled with
red tail hawks and
wolf tracks

you mentioned
her name that day
as if a rusty pot
sprung a leak-
the magic boiled dry

we all make choices
to sacrifice satisfaction
but mistakes
can only
be made once

the sky tonight
holds moments of truth
none of them are you

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