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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.

 

Ending Well

Old age is something that I scorn;
the ache of limbs and frailty
is definitely not for me,
I will not spend my time forlorn,
remembering regretfully.

I will fight advancing age,
make war upon decrepitude,
enjoying every interlude
of life up to the final stage
of my own stubborn attitude.

No dread will haunt my final years,
I scorn the terror death does hold
upon those who are grey and old,
whose dignity fades and hope dissapears
in the face of growing doubts and fears,

When you fall out of love with Mr. Wrong

Don’t lie to me
Nothing you say now will ever touch me
Nor will it affect me like before
When the wintry cold storm of your anger
Burned like frost between my toes

I don’t get it
No amount of ridiculing will make me see it
Nor will it help me get the jokes
When the bluster of your words
Move me from my peaceful state

Behind my bastions of cement and brick
Swords and daggers safeguard my heart
Fighter planes loaded with denials
Create a no fly zone over my fortress
When you try to tear down my wall

" ROUTINE "

We love you son, we'll see you soon
as the bed is rolled out of the room
along with drip bags
monitors
drowsy cargo
of one of the last of my line
my son

So down the sterile halls we go
the only noise muted footfalls
echoing off the pastel walls
of worry

Transformation of Energy

Transformation of Energy

I don't know much,
About the nuances of poetry
But one thing is for certain,
All energy is indestructible,
For ever it’s under transformation,
My minds eye
Opens your eyes
And
My poem transforms
Into a script,
Energy continues to transform,
Bit by bit...

Kaskade

bite thick this flesh
arc bright the flash
of blade

where frost steams
beneath springs
rapture
and bird dark rain
winds cascade
life for buried seed

"FLYING AWAY FROM USA"

"FLYING AWAY FROM USA"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 13th March 2011

Bland without a hand, a heart,
a head,
numbed by the sudden bereavement,
left,
bent in two
my seat belt fastened;
beneath
the inner feelings and sensations
rise,
like weed disturbed by sea's
deep tides,
once glowing blue
now grey, insipid drawn
along the bay,
where shells cast magic spells for me,
for you,
their voices joined in unison
now wail.

Band of Fools...

The twilight sky is adorned with a gaggle of drunken geese.
Their vee-formation discarded, they race in a swarm,
boisterously honking, the coming of Spring.

I imagine them having one for the road.
Flying high...
Announcing their arrival.

The crows in the naked branches of the old oak look up,
snickering in low tones of amusement.
The sparrows just shake their heads, and settle in.

Ready for the banquet, taking the best room at the lake,
and lolling on the beach.
The boys are back in town...

no title, yet

I’m blinded by Earths waking
Our sleeping giant
Has lain content for decades
Lately, it seems, she’s aching
The need to stretch her limbs:
Invades, persuades, cascades;
The rippling effect spreads
Like notes from an ancient hymn
We may close our eyes,
Block the site of mayhem,
Yet the sound of weeping
will still seep into our ears.

3.21.11
©Tonya Greenless

Eternity

Energy, timeless, everlasting
Unending, with no beginning
Eternally in motion
In the cosmic ocean
Degenerating
Recycling
Creating,
Building
Life.

This is my first attempt at a nonet - inspired by Shirl.

ticking life away, easy...

ticking life away, easy…

Never really cared for time,
an old slow clock at work.
Targets, I have no mountains,
no haste to race from my stork.

Worlds a real fast busy place
wonder what I’m needed for.
Never been willing to chase,
pound sterling, or Yankee dollar.

I sit here typing on my putor,
wow: I love her made up word.
Reminds me of her sweet voice,
spelling! don’t be absurd.

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