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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.

 

Requiem for a Relationship

The splintered echos of a secret
seem barely audible;
but on this night,
though it doesn't seem right,
my pain is now, multiple.

I ache for all you've been through
your secret's safe with me;
without a doubt,
it's finally out,
that alone, should've set you "free".

You're defined by your pure, negativity
coercing rumors to become, true;
you can't feel...and can't grieve,
so, you decided to leave,
like it was the thing to do.

Hew man smile

Hew man smile….

A man speaks
on wasteland,
not many listen
to his words.

Though his smile
is well liked,
and the rocks fall
to ground.
Shelter he offers,
they smile.

One person speaks
of wrongdoing,
no monies for shelter.
He smiles.

They like his smile.
He’ll build on
wasteland
and smile…

LATE WINTER WIND

Leaves playing tag in the cold wind
as they sprint across the ground
while winter nears its chilly end
last blast ere spring comes around

In airish skies cirrus clouds race
foretelling storms now on their way
often dimming the sun's winter face
on this brisk and blustery day

Shoulders hunch and ears grow cold
eyes squint against the swirling dust
lofted by a breeze grown bold
interspersed by howling gusts

Ducks at Play

Sleepy morning visions
of ducks at play
scrape
yesterday’s misery
away.

Vapid imagines
of day-break dew,
I fathom fantasies
brand new.

Given my way
I'd savor
only
you, me,
and ducks at play.

Another Revision.

Chinese

We got a kitten, Siamese
my little sister could only grok Chinese
hence his name.

What do I call

What do I hear, I hear the cars,
what do I see, I see the trees,
while the gulls huddle on the lake`s rectangular blocks of floating ice,
and the weeping willow`s pale green branches sway in the biting wind,
yellow squirrels tracks, seeds, brown leaves,
Cleveland`s grey skyscrapers grey against the grey sky
grey, grey, grey to the horizon
that melds with the distant mist,
silent presence, lake,
vast,
wide world
so small.

"The Reaper Who Touches"

This demon’s tongue and its hollow soul,
gravediggers that dig an empty hole.
The angel’s wing and her gentle ways,
dying people and their futile days.

A bloodied face and an impaled eye,
a lover’s spat, both will die.
A baseball bat and a caved in face,
yellow police tape now wraps this place.
A gunshot accompanied with an exploded chest,
this careless cop, wore no vest.

DEGE

DEGE

If I compare myself
to Bukowski, Burroughs, Poe or Thompson

Take it not as literary self-aggrandizement

Just that in many ways I made them all look like wowsers

and yet will probably live fifty years or more than any of them.

I've contracted a terrible disease.
Where I expected to be immortal,
I now know I have
DEGE
Degenerative Elven Genetic Enhancement

oh woe
alack alas
I won't live forever,
nor my poetry.

But I'll have a fucking great time doing it.

Storm Tossed...

Limbless trees ashore, like spars puncturing slate grey clouds of sail
Racing with monster white capped waves of leaden green

The heaving motion of rain swept deck
Undulates beneath my feet, like a twisting serpent

Smashed against jagged rock, the sea scatters into needle spray
Brine stings the eyes, and crawls the skin

Breath labors heavily
Yet there is exhilaration in the moment

Defying the power of Neptune
I shout out obscenties

Barren land is visible, through my glass
I claim it as my own

Atlas (The sky-bearer)

People only view you
from far, far away.
You are the richest painting,
the tops of the tallest trees;
to be seen,
but never touched.

Your arms stretch,
and swell, but never seem to strain,
though the clouds swirl
above your golden curls.
The storm above
just bides it's time.

The rains drop heavily,
on your over-burdened shoulders.
You are solid and strong,
but struggling to raise
the gray mass
that would tear you down.

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