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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.

 

mortar (revised)

(new)
Screaming at the darkness
folded, spindled and mutilated
cast upon jagged rocks and
crushed by waves
of indecision

gales of laughter laced with
scattered showers of sadness
and lashed by tongues
of derision,
that lies rotting
in fields of neglect

tempered in the cold
forged in searing heat
the brittle frost of loneliness
ripping at unprotected
eyes of despair

love letter #81

we came together
more like a dragonfly
with torn wings,
essentially broken
yet able to find colors,
in a world, weakened with grays

i am still Melbourne
tied and bound,
unwashed city with
fewer clean spaces
than you remember

the sacrificial pot,
boiled and scrubbed,
we dipped toes in
and painted references
to holy light
from the twilight of stars

or it was the telescope
pointed into the universe,
from your room,
giving me astral
predictions

Mr.Jones,

The long wait,
can not leave this place
to far in between
how much more
can I take,

I can hear
Mr. Jones knocking
at my door
hands begin to shake
is there no escape

Blood pulsating
need screaming
in my head
YES, YES, yes,
NO!!
where is the out

what must I do
to be rid of this burden
who goes by the name
of Mr. Jones

"body aching,
have the shakes
Jones coming down"

The Price Of Peace

.
dwelling:
a shady hovel

furnished:
single bed
orange crate
and a cardboard box

a dimwicked porch lamp
foretelling
no solicitors of friendship

left alone
sparring with thoughts
...about thought
from mute books
that can never take back their words
stalking
and hounding
their cagy ways
until "gotcha, you slickery little weasels
snagged by your own glibby tales"

a deep breath ensues
a soothing sigh of relief

the mystery is still unresolved

I Know From my Bed

Sometimes I feel
like a sad sack-
a worn out old man
with clown facial wrinkles.
I know when I reflect,
stare out my window
at the snow falling
from my bed,
my back to yours,
reflecting on my pain-
ignoring yours-
I isolate your love,
lose your touch
to another-
forgetting,
it is our bed,
not mine,
that I lie in.

-1999-

Leaves in December
By Michael Lee Johnson

Buckskin and Bear Fat (Poetic Prose)

Had I listened as the chickadee sang of winter's coming, I would have let my line stay cast a bit longer on those lazy summer days, or netted a few more salmon in the cold spring waters. But I was mustered in the deck of love's cards, feeling my own drizzle within lake shimmer and skies as blue as Egyptian Lapis.

Oh she was a beauty, all tanned and tall, red and black wool shirt, those short denim shorts and hiking boots that made her hips lift and fall just a bit more than required. I often wonder if she knew – probably. She was a smart cat.

Words

You got your pocket full of ten-dollar words,
all precise and proper,
way too educated for a man like me ...

except;
I can see the want-to in your look,
the squirm in your seat,
where the shiver-me-here
is apparent ...

and me;
unable to contain myself,
the whisper of words is all that's left ...
I want you

“Peace Within”

“When my pain is bleak
And relief is fleeing
My thoughts become weak
With recklessness”

“Agony brings infamy
To my heart of pain
And the peace of Christ
Excels my thought of rashness”

“And meds for coping
Lessens my sadness
Lower my woes
Of high duress”

“And peace from within
Derived from up high
Quiet my thoughts
Of suicide”

Touch

There are times when you say no,
when long hours of work and fatigue
conspire to take away your passion,
negating all desires you have for me.

These are days frustrating,
hapless interludes in busy lives
neither patience nor acceptance
can lighten or assuage,

For then my need is hurtful
and desire unrequited, this passion
I have for you as far from
being fulfilled as it can ever be,

SPRING ZEPHYR DAY

The trees are so active today
fanning the air and clouds around
as if they are all in a fray
and throwing pine cones to the ground

All the birds must prove their skill
at landing on the limbs which sway
whether on ridge or tiny rill
earning hazardous flight pay

The air is filled with pollen's haze
as tree pods release their loads
which will settle down for days
on ground, cars and even toads

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