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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.

 

Window Of Despair

In flickers of a TV screen
a thousand tales speed by,
bereft of all imagination,
without the briefest hesitation,
except where sponsors scream
about the useless filth they ply.

Through this window of despair,
a thousand souls all live and die,
each second of each life flayed open,
butterflied between each slogan
so carefully designed to snare
the careless sweep of each mind's eye.

TIES THAT BIND

He was just here
with those hazel eyes
drawing me into a place
love defined

Maybe I was on a dark road
at the time
and he gave me
some light and protection
against loneliness and the impact
of destiny

He understood me for who and what I am
and much more than passion can find
a way to bind -
I was trapped by his humanity...

7 November, '10

WINTER'S SONG

.

Just beyond the end of autumn
I hear the winter's call
and he arrives to slay the leaves
which, stubborn, clung through fall.

The land once green and full of life
has now grown cold and sere
and harvest's colors once so rife
no longer are seen here.

As white and silver cloak descends
to cover silent frozen land
air turns cold as all warmth ends
and quietens all at hand.

Defeat

Child on horseback
Won’t you come for me?
Mother by morning
Won’t you cry for me?
Cause I am so tired of being strong
And I am so sick of being wrong
That I will refuse to breath

Sun on my shoulders
Won’t you burn me?
Moon calm the violent seas
Won’t you drown me?
Cause I am so tired of being afraid
And I am so sick of riding the waves
So I will refuse to speak

LIMITED

My knees hurt so much today
I decided home I'd stay
And watch the autumn sun so bright
journey from the dawn to night

The sky is not all pure and blue
within it fluffy puffballs grew
morphing as they drifted past
outpacing shadows that they cast

Between the earth and drifting cloud
flocks in migration cry out loud
as they sojourn to southern lands
in large flocks or scattered bands

Dynamics Of Me

.
I am a still life
...like a bowl of fruit
...or flowers in array

nothing unsettling
or startling
nothing to turn from
or linger upon

timeless
...of yesterday
...or a thousand yesterdays past

changes percieved
glance to glance
derive solely from
the commotion within yourself

I am still
I am fixed

quietly afloat in that which is eternal

youngest gal! then two years ago...since grown

youngest gal!
you are very young
exquisitely beautiful
charming!

guys and gals
you‘ll be alarming
as they will be desiring....

take great care
be totally aware
Internet is actually dicey!
life is pricey

guys want that only
what by now you
ought to know
hopefully!

so take care
my youngest friend
before you meet
a premature
towards the end!

Someday This Gonna' make Sense

after a busy day, i broke free by the riverside..
watching the lilies taken by the flow,
to the far diverging end form my sight,
a tiny sight i'm a fool to know..

my eyes flew back to that rare-taken.. highway,
where a mobile came to pass then and now gone
how may ways are there along the way?
to realize my goliath dream to be her one..

will she ever dare to catch me down?
or will always see me as a bitter clown?
will be chilled up by the sense of doubt,
nah, i wish i would never fall off the ground..

her hands

her hands

of finest stuff
of nature, her hands
are wrought --
to shine
the world a brighter
globe
set amidst the stars --

her hands do sing
and dance in mortal
air -- but have transparency
that is eternal

their loveliness -- their
beauty --
their slender elegance
I wish gracefully to
hold in mine --

and feel a moment of
eternity they possess
without effort.

untitled

I'm walking out the door,
to head south bound
down the interstate
Into an old home
where it all gravitates
It's just an old cave
With all the writings on the walls:
a past, their present, had no future
It's my Yuman paradise
But what the fuck is all of this?
Some folded cloth?
A broken vase?
A clay covered casket couldn't say more
My legs crooked like a heart
that could belong to anyone
The chief is lying on the floor,
his blood is in on trade,

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