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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.

 

See through it all

Look at me
What do you see
are you able to see what is truly me
Could you see more?
More than a face
More than a voice
More than a man

Do you see what might be
Have you seen all that i am
My being unique as all others
To walk a mile in the shoes
of those who see what is unseen

My voice my words
Hidden from all but those who seek
Whispers with such intensity
They reach beneath my skin
There they remain..
a reminder of whispers that touch me

Renaissance

Spring, wakes
shakes her head,
salutes the sun,
washes her face
in the dew of the morning

stretching her arms
she embraces
the new day, it's
a good day
for a rebirth.

Occasional Heartache

Sometimes in the tired darkness,
stumbling on a grasp of yearning
older than times spent
in remnant memories,
stars wonder at my absence,
their shine so cold
above a crescent moon
adrift in ragged clouds
as air grows cool
across forgotten prairies.

It whispers through the unseen trees
and I,
a thousand miles from ocean,
from life,
listen to the rush of wind
and ache,
remembering salt air,
the gleam of moonlit water
and the sound of surging sea.

Oracle of the Drought

fall into pools of swirling merriment
shirk substitutes that others recommend
firm in the knowledge of purest joy
your visage clear in mind, no mental toy

stab with wanton thrusts this warm caress
reveal dream's scorn amid phobic duress
with fiery brand your chariot swift - protect
lunar spheres in shaded ponds - thoughts collect

tinge red this broken tune - unbroken still
wave its braided locks on crested hill
press in, unhearing ears to hear each cry
reveries opalesce, no longer dry

BEYOND TRAILS

I oft venture where there is no trail
along steep hill sides and rugged ridges
on old legs that are far from hale
I ford lone streams that have no bridges.

Most times I find myself alone,
the mass of mankind far away,
as I travel through these lands unknown
by those with faces pale and grey.

By traveling where the paths are rare
I've sometimes tripped and even fell
snagged by the vines and stump holes there
while walking beyond the peaceful dell.

C O G N I T I O N

there is a dream in my window
stirring in the frost corner
there is a cloak of wonder
waiting on my door

at the touch
the craze that humble
rises

I feel the wear like wings
healed
I hoard the words
that echo in the empty
chamber

and stitch holes where
blackness flew
and scarred the night
like bleeding comets
between our common-health

how the distance
the distance great
smoulders like a beam
borne bridge

and I taste your love
and I taste your hate

"LISA"

when the clouds up there stop playing across,
will love still be in the air or it will then carry a cross?
though it was a complicated thing that never rely on a toss,
still it just colors my will to move on for my cause.

love indeed has no walls,no rules,no laws..
but when its part is broken,what's gone? what's lost?
though chances are just playing...moving and tossing across,
still i'll move on for my cause even if i'm to carry a cross..

SIXTY SIX

SIXTY SIX

No fresh adventures, no new tricks,
I've done it all - I'm sixty six.
The world is small, I've seen the sights,
Been around it, once or twice.

My senses blunted, all seems bland,
Next holiday - The Rio Grande?
It seems there's nothing new out there
To make me wonder; stand and stare.

My birthday; should I just be pleased
That I'm still here and not deceased.
I've seen it all, and yet, again,
My Love, you touch me, and it's Spring!

Right click to proceed

A web has been spun
around the world
wide as imagination
making possible what
beforehand took years

Many other modes of
communication and
intercourse have fallen
almost by the way side
and flies come in droves
thirsting for much more

What spider lurks we
can only conceptualise
What dangers we
can scarce visualise

But what remains as
it was in antiquated
human conversation
is that in all this closeness
in-each-others' faces
we are truly still alone.

Words silken

Words silken

Feel the words move minutes to hours,
see them scatter across turned pages
Hear the sound of their magic powers.
carrying us from here through ages.

Nature's gift is given to us beings,
writers be praised of every ilk
Describing for us just what we’re seeing.
life given to blank sheets in words of silk.

Slaying every mythical ogre or giant,
easily with cut from strongest will.
No fear of consequence or reprisal,
it shall be written, with an honest quill.

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