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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.

 

FREE SHOW

Through grandpa's pasture plans were made
to build steel giants through the glade
and string upon them power lines
where to this day the wind still whines

For each tower were dug four holes
twenty feet deep for each leg's poles
and in each a twenty foot ground rod
ending forty feet below the sod

Next came the erection crews
with their wrenches, bolts and tools
a hundred foot tower every other day
they'd bolt them then be on their way

The Stain

Nothing ventured, nothing gained
and nothing's changed at all;
until the children die in vain
did someone think to call?

Sorry, are our tomorrows
as the branding iron burns,
with the flesh of our existence
on a dare, one finally learns.

And, so we try and organize
so facts will all align;
but, it's too difficult to hear
a broken heart, over a troubled mind.

So, "logic" takes no time, at all
wrapping our heads around,
a war cry so ingenious
that, it doesn't make a sound.

Wages of Sloth...

There is so much to make up for
He has floundered and thrashed about
Maybe he could do more
If he just gets out

He tries and fails so frequently
Nothing seems to work
It seems to come quite naturally
For him to feel the jerk

Each day when he arises
He vows to do his best
But there are no surprises
When today is like the rest

The eternal optimistic
Maybe a different tomorrow
I guess the fates must be sadistic
They bring him only sorrow

The Piper (Poetic Prose)

There is an ethereal space where man defies gravity and bends supple as a deity.  It is here he rises before stars and radiates inner spirit from his heart; allows eyes to surface, views the softer venues of a woman's breasts, and finds her allure a powerful voice that beckons him to follow.

She is the piper, sensual with song to all who quiver in her wake, and she knows herself in all that is pure; all that is beautiful. She rises above his character and soars in the company of clouds and angels in her own light. 

MY MOTHER

I waited and waited as she had promised
She promised me and I had believed her as always,
I never learn and she never stop promising,
Still my reason for hurting wasn`t because she broke it,
It was in the way she spoke to me that broke my heart.

She does not get it and never will
As she breaks my heart into smaller pieces,
Those smaller pieces she expects me to love her with,
Is love really that patient? Doesn`t it have an end or it`s limits?

As A New Comer,One Must Know

As A New Comer
You Must Know

Scribbler and Moon man
Are the two who give?
Excellently frank reviews
Scribbler still reads me
Off and on,
But the latter placed me
In the garbage can,
Where I rightly did belong
Then municipal guys came and ran
Took me in their van

I too write about autumn leaves,
Many poems, I’ve composed
But on every site I’ve been,
They all want to say
You are a Rose
As lovely poetry,
Wow you compose.

If I should love,so I will die

Love is nothing but pain
A slow, silent, smiling killer
Taking your heart to the highest heights
Making you float on a cloud,
As you start smelling roses,
Hearing melody of birds and enjoying the good in life.

It comes down,
Tells you how hard you will fall.

As confusion rushes in, your heart starts to pound
Suddenly you feel this rush of air, as you wonder...
You suddenly realise that the cloud has moved,
Slowly reaching the lowest height ,
Smell of thorns,
Surely going through that, shall kill me.

High Desert Spring

The land of many busy roads
off towards, the suns' demise;
up here, where the air is clear
there are castles in the skies.

Winters' chill is evermore
the ambience of the day;
as we struggle to find purchase
in the sand, and desert clay.

The wind coerces everyone
to "pause", and deeply "sigh";
without renewed perspective
one might cease, to even try.

For one last moment

I’d gladly walk a thousand miles
Naked and shoeless
and without bread or water
hoping to eat and drink of you
holding you in my embrace

I could sleep on a bed of nails
and still dreaming of you
If upon awakening, I could feel
the rise and fall of your chest

I would give my eyes to an Artist in need
for you are etched in my memories
If you promised I could see you within

My ears I would give to a deaf musician
In the hope that I could hear you whisper
with your angelic voice my name

The Dark Road Ahead

I find myself sitting here with such a heavy heart. What once was my escape from all my demons and pains, I now realize has slipped away into the abyss of my mindmares. What once was laughter has turned into tears. I find myself asking what did I ever do to deserve the heartaches that God has allowed all of my life. I thought for one time I had finally earned a place of happiness. Only to find out that I was the biggest joke yet.

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