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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.

 

Reclamation

A barren branch still reaches out
o'er withered seedling's callow chance;
still wick within, pulse beats throughout
a barren branch.

And there, despite life's fatal glance,
beyond spring rain or summer drought,
our majesty begins her dance.

Her pirouette glows beyond doubt
past naked limb of stretched expanse;
regeneration gleaned to sprout
a barren branch.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Roundel (poetry)

Gossip

The sun chases away the darkness,
The rain cleanses the earth,
The moonlight lights a path,
A journey from death to birth.

New eyes,
Untarnished soul,
Making one see the picture
is now finally whole.

You know who you are,
You speak from the heart,
Ignore those that try
to tear you apart.

The vulchers are jealous,
You they cannot see,
All they see is gossip,
To spread forth they feel the need.

Scared and Alone

You hold your head down,
Unsure how you feel,
A week ago this didn't
seem real.

But it is, it's here,
A part of your life,
Not here to get you
into strife.

Maybe a chance,
New path, new beginning,
I know your head is
probably spinning.

A change of path,
Detour at most,
Allow and opportunity,
A form of growth.

Options are out there,
To help those like you,
Whatever you choose,
I am here for you.

love letter at the gate

you have me bewildered
as if a bird with a crippled wing
when i left
fall had become colors
turning cold against
the flush of cheeks

you missed your ride home
came back to say my name

why?

i liked your poems
when i couldn't see myself in them
or you and
what we had

i find myself
wanting more of them
the songs too
before this summer turns
to stone

i don't want to wonder
'if only'

you already do that

a cabbie's wisdom

I started the day with shit attitude,
watching sunlight
through sheets hung
like curtains,
feeling as if I had this would be life –

and I knew how things changed
time moved forward,
just as I knew
that I wanted to believe
I was the only one
covered in denim
and faded under a summer’s sky

but I listened
with half-cocked ears
hearing only every other word
from cabbie’s mouth

THE VINE

A good while back I bought some land
which consisted of a rural hollow
forested by mixed hardwood stand
surrounded by two fields grown fallow.

This hollow housed a clear strong spring
years ago used as a water source
evidenced by a collapsed cistern's ring
which began the branch's course.

And here I built a modest home
on an adjacent overlooking hill
where children would have room to roam
far off the road where woods were still.

Lemonade Breeze

Evening sighs
seducing my warm latte summer skin
fragrant dreams dance
floating ribbons through pink grapefruit sky.
Honey hued eyes gleam
in the moonglow
my strawberry lips surrender
sweet nectar that drips off your tongue.
Waves of delight melt into steaming sand
as cotton candy foam
I drink in your laughter
light as a sparkling lemonade breeze.

Don't Bulbs Burn Out?

Bad luck decorates her branches
flashing on and off like
strings of lights on a christmas tree.

Misfortune glows
as if fueled by noonday sun
under cloudless sky.

Each day she longs
for someone who might notice,
turn some switch,
dim the lights, pull a plug, and
diminish her pain. No hero
lurks nearby on prancing steed.

Don’t filaments fray,
bulbs burn out
and fail to ignite
one more time?

Lexicon (Complete Revision of Colloquial)

Contortion of a warped treain of thought,
vocabulary articulated with diction,
colloquial argot.

Lexicon of the abstract and abstruse,
conception of an illusion.
Manipulating consciousness.

Vociferous articulating of intense emotion,
or inaudible machinations of a warped mind.
Halcyon conversation.

Language is my passion

Never Mind

I've barked at the moon before
when it likely weren't my time,

I've supped with the likes of fools
and felt completely sublime;

I wish that I could write, right now
something that'd inspire, awe;

or cause my reader to be left
nearly standing on his own jaw.

Today, my focus is "dribble"
it's such a daunting task,

I think I covered this before
someone really aught to ask.

In the in-between-time
at the risk of sounding, dense;

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