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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.

 

Hell bitch on the rampage

Urban warrior ,
Don’t get in her way,
She’ll stamp you into the ground.

Inner city soldier,
Fighting for her rights
Breaking heads

( Chorus)
Hell bitch on the rampage
marauding renegade style
Living to defile

Hell bitch on the rampage
marauding renegade style
full of rage

Anarchy and misrule.
on the mean streets
of purgatory.

No mercy, no pity
In a fuck to you
Trooper style

closed gate -- open road

closed gate -- open road

not come to an end this hike
gate behind me closed

stepped onto the road
without being swept away
--trick of all tricks--

jumped that freight at
three AM

headed west
never looked back
nothing there -- but
door locked and barred

behind the gate
a house but not a home
there -- nothing left to learn
but how to burn

Autumns Wish

Autumns Wish

When acorns fall
And Autumns breeze
Begins to waft,
Across the lush green leaves
Of central park trees.

I think of you and wish,
You were here with me.

When the Autumn sun
Steals summers warmth
And shadows elongate,
While darkness encroaches
Upon those in love.

I think of you and wish,
You were here beside me.

When the winter winds
Chills my outer skin.
I feel your warmth glowing,
Deep inside my soul

Individualistic

Individualistic

I choose
My rules
Not yours
Your lost ship of fools

I lead
You follow
You're lost
A bitter pill to swallow

A square peg never fits in a round hole
Those pegs are free from any control

I'm an individual
Full of individualism
Not a part of the Big Brother system
Individualism

I'm an individual
Full of individualism
Following the path of Satanism
Individualism

I decide
My path
Not yours
Enjoy the bloodbath

What happened ?

Please tell me the story
if you care to dredge up
the memories

Of course it's up to you
and if you don't want to
that's ok - either way

I don't know why
I have to be the one
who's flexible and deferential
but that seems to be
the way it is

You can chose to
remain reticent and
uncommunicative

Maybe one day you'll feel
the need to unburden
and unload

Writers' Needs

.
a writer must carve
huge chunks out of time
for himself

a writer must have
the ability to hold onto
an image ...long

also, patience, intelligence
some knowlege
and a starting bit of inspiration

these things,along with
a comfortable place for his chair,
some paper, pens,
and, preferably, a full bottle
of (state your preference),
are the basic necessities

but mostly,
a writer must have
a high tolerance
for lonliness

Winter

Ashen dawn
Violet kissed
Bruising early morning mist.

Shiver cold
Icy greys
Crystal crunchy winter days.

Feathered fronds
Floating free
Diamond sculpted filigree.

Glitter snow
Crumbly white
Sparkling dusty trinket light.

Sun shimmered
Spangled trees
Rooted in the glister seas.

Golden bloomed
Amber hues
Set in jade and pastel blues.

Glowing moon
Round and bright
Heralding a frosty night.

liberation

liberation

aching carbon corpus
humiliating adventure --
diaphanated alarm

discovering humiliation
to be first step --
on path to liberation.

vcp

CUTTING FIREWOOD

I'm off to gather some firewood
where once a copse of hardwoods stood
a place of but stumps and waste tree tops
cleared in the month of acorn drops.

It is a late mid-winter day
with cold winds and sky of gray.
That tree lap near the logging road
will go far in making up a load .

So I park the truck right near
get out the saw and all the gear
but take a pause to look around
at wildlife's former running ground.

Fallen Soul ( updated)

Angelic perversion
fall from grace
banished into the wilderness

He wanders a solitary road
a desolate soul,
the abandoned one.

Hades and the bowels of hell,
behind soulless eyes
the stench of death upon his ragged clothes.

Creeping through the urban undergrowth
ashen heart, so brittle and cold,
Godforsaken, rejected.

Immortality his cross to bear
condemned to exist in purgatory,
A deviant fiend.

Vile transgressor
contrition his eternal torture,
redemption his goal.

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