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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.

 

A Slight Contrast

When I wake up
The sunlight’s hands reaching into my eyes
Divinity, you were a goddess I contained
We wash our pasts with the memories we regret
Skewed versions of what we want to believe
Take me far from here, to a place without fear
I welcome the change

Of Vibrations

Of Vibrations

When we speak a word
A certain vibration is generated
And
This vibration is picked up by the brains neurons and
We hear that particular word.

Likewise, once we call someone
Let’s say SARAH
The words would be
3 1 2 1 5 =12=3 as per numbers
Allotted to a particular alphabet

SINS of the FLESH

I so love your skin's feel
beneath my old rough fingers
e'en after a caress I steal
the memory still lingers

As touch moves on to gentle cleft
I'm filled with anticipation
of patience I am now bereft
please fill my expectation

And as each little roundish nub
also begs for attention
calling out for a light rub
and a poem's lyric mention

Just the sight of your soft curves
fills me with such delight
and never ever fails to serve
to enrich my appetite

Fading Memories

`

Gnarly fingers
veil his face,
skin thin and crusty
at spots:
splotched parchment
of years in the sun

water
cascades
from his forehead to
his chin
then meets gravity;
raindrops

through his soil-grimed
singlet, jeans and boots;
hours of toil
simmer away
in rivulets
of forgetfulness.

`

The Sound of Sadness

Sadness has a sound, friend.
I have heard it
sobbing, weeping in the throat of the widow
and the children.
All wrapped up in quilts;
quilts of happy colors;
as if that will change anything.

Libyan Socialist Mona

Tears run freely down my face.

I am hearing of violence and upheaval in your country.

This athiest prays deeply for your safety,

my dearest friend,

if you you need to leave your country

I will do all I can to help.

If I can come there and help with the struggle

I will

You have saved my life with your love and compassion

I will not be powerless.

Tell me what is happening

and what I can do.

Stony Tale

beneath my facade
million untold stories
have metamorphized

a fire within
rages before erupting
volcanic lava

I pioneered
the stone age evolution
with my flint of fire

I bear the brunt of
memorials and relics
for posterity

from my nethers springs
the elixir that quenches
thirsty souls and soil

I am bewildered
by that idiotic phrase
"as dead as a stone"

From Mom And Dad Dec 83'

“From mom and dad dec 83’ “

That was the first thing I viewed
As I opened the book
At the half price book store.

How did this wonderful book
End up here?
The pages were aged
And darkened,
And I remembered reading it
In the early eighties.

Just a material possession, for sure,
But, it was those words,
Those very special words,
That were written, very small
Inside the back cover.
It meant something
To the “mom and dad”
Who had purchased this book
For their child.

Brain Rush

Liquid thoughts darkens my soul.
A storm on the horizon of my heart.
Wicked muses entangles deeper than
my spirit. Brainworks burn my psyche.
The crimson flows deep and intense.
So painful, I can live no longer.

Poetry is the living soul of a writer
By Pixee

Migraines consume
every part of this hollow shell, that contains
my psyche.
home.

The potency of the brain ruch is astounding.
I cry scarlet tears. . .

Ripples and Echos...

As the ripples fade into the distance
Small waves lap at memories' shores
Eroding the edges
Echoing back to me
The words I said
Seem distorted now
I shouted loud enough...
It's not my fault
You weren't paying attention

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