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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.

 

corner cobwebs

there is a natural succession
to the way we breathe,
as if the trees could sweep the ground
of our buried
instead my dead sits
on closet shelves,
brown wrapped packages
with labels –

but grandpa got a pine box,
six by four confines
sealed
as if we’d really want to see a fragment
of bone and discuss which piece
remained dense,
there was this ironic fascination
with death,
google tells me
what I will die of all the time

Political Babble: A Call to War

Through spin and smoke
they hear him say
"Blessed are violent men...

who protect our graven images.”
Inducements hover above
patriotic subjects

“noble are warriors
uniformed, camouflaged,
destined for death
or better, living champions
parading each holiday
their missing limbs,
their medals of honor
their sacrifice.
Blessed are people made violent
protecting our
golden calf.”

the strawberries are bitter still

if i press my head on a pile of sand
i can hear the ants
the waking cherry blossoms
mother painting the fences three shades
of pink

this canvas i'm admiring
is last year's clouds
the fat rumbling of late march and thursday
the glass wind chime dangling
from her fingers

when i'm tired of courting sunsets
i think of father
the summer gone fields
mother uprooting vines and soaking sorrow
with patience

EMOTIONAL EXPRESSION

I learnt from you
That less is more
Emotional Expression uncensored
Bites to the core

Vitriolic rants damage the speaker
Reputations are tarnished, others keep score
Both friends and lovers are lost
Forever more…

Bjr 31 March '11

Shok Wave

its there
the part
the play

within the curve
the smooth hinge
motion

the turn
and look

each portion
I taste
each night
burning
like a fire ship

today Im a ghost
today Im haunting
my own reflections

all I dream about
is you

THE MOTH

After working until lack of light
I headed toward the homestead, bright
listening to all the peepers sing
on a late April evening

A moth came with me through the door
as if he'd often done the same before
he dove and fluttered through the air
above the couch and easy chair

I left him flitting in the den
as I went to the warm kitchen
to find my supper set out there
and my love with whom my day to share

Fathers Are a Loving Treat FINALISED VERSION

Friends of the human kind
What love fathers give
Where on earth can one find?
I miss my father each day
But when I see his picture
He comes alive, though
Aeons ago he passed away.

Tears of happiness
Sorrow and joy
Trickle down my face
As my loving father’s
Face, this dew drops trace.

Father come back
If only for a moment
So that I can just feel you
If only you can come through.

a boulevard of waiting trees

we walk together on friday nights
under a swirl of wet leaves
clinging
to unclothed limbs and faces long and lonely.
there's a round puddle
where our rain boots make waves for the boat
some child of eight left behind.
here and again we eye the miles of fences
and the NO TRESPASSING signs
nailed on wood or vinyl with a splash of red.
our footsteps wind around the corridor
where a group of strangers
smoke pipes
string violins for the nightingales
and recite unwanted haiku to the march moon.

Yup, Nope, Dunno!

.
Johnny doesn't speak of time
or the universe or God anymore
not in the metaphysical sense
he no longer requires a daily dose of boredom
and vaguery

sees a beautiful face
no words, just sees
a muscle car
a slight growl deep down in his throat
a pool table
a sly smirk
a smoke, a toke
a cold bottle of beer
elicit an honest "ahhhh"!

Eulogy For a Friend

His name was Noble,
fitting for his character,
a big man poured dark
into a uniform
eternally a size too small,
his grip engulfing whenever
we shook hands,
but never hurtful.

He guarded us on graveyard shift,
watching every night
framed by our always-open door
even in the coldest times,
and strolling all the
lengthy paths of busy warehouse
narrow between racks and pallets,
ever watchful of and for us.

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