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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

 

Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest Winner!

 

The Winner of the Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest is  scribbler

 

AUTUMN'S CUSP

 

 

Mid October a cool day
with a northern cooling breeze.
All hints of summer gone away.
The few green leaves are just a tease.

Tomorrow will bring the first frost
so this day finds me 'neath the trees
absorbing warmth before its lost
and limbering up titanium knees.

For I'm not what I once was.
Time has seen that I am not,
So I sit on a stump to take a pause
and breathe autumn's scent which I'd forgot.

Then turn my face up to the sky
as cool front winds begin to blow.
I watch the clouds as they race by.
They leave like friends I used to know.

My eyes water from sun's glare
so I drop my head down to my chest
letting my chin settle there
while I count the ways that I am blessed.

I'm blessed with our cabin in the trees
I'm blessed with seeing one more fall.
I'm blessed with grandchildren to tease.
I'm blessed with being here at all.

I watch a squirrel climb to its nest
for now the sun is getting low
so ere' it reaches ridge's crest
I arise then turn and go.

 

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Neopoet Weekly 09/8/24 to 09/14/24 Winner!

This Week’s Winner is  Edward nigma

 

 Cage of cards

 

 Chaotically clustered
cage of
cards covering
all
cynically silent
sides of life
plainly plastered
before my
persistently passing
presence of
the present day.
Thoughtlessly thrashing
out the leisurely
overlapping lanes
of possibilities
prancing through
the pressuring palms
of probability.
With a single stern stomp
taking back the cross
mask of control.
There steadily
stumbled down
the obliquely built
walls of ambiguity
freely falling at
my frivolously
fleeting feet.
Vigorously revealing
the vaguely vapid
valley of victorious
vultures who
persistently preys
upon the weak
minded ones
who decisively numb
themselves within naivety .
But still
I walk forth
ahead through
the foreboding facade
of fear
lying before me.

 

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Neopoet Weekly 09/01/24 to 09/07/24

This Week’s Winner is Trail

 

Echoes

 

Once there was a man
Who wrote beautiful music
He wrote the music because he was sad
He was sad because he was all alone

But he was noticed for his music
He ended up being loved for it
And in being loved
He lost his sadness
And his music soon after

 

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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

The Rehabilitation Of A Fundamentalist

there is a monastary
in the woods
no one lives there

the forest had obliterated the sky
and as if "no sky" meant "no God",
all the monks fled.

running to the churches and
cathedrals of the city,
only to find themselves skyless again,

they ran to the desert where it all began,
and finally learned
..."too much sky can be oppressive to Man"....

sunsets and romance

sunsets come while Earth spins
Sun just flies through space

Earth and Sun have a romance
in progress --

terra firma orbits round
its bright star lover in heavenly ballet

affectionately -- rightly so
without her there would nothing be --

no flowers, wheat, squirrels, bats, sleeping babies, trees, flowing rivers, oceans, sand, tomatoes, fog or clouds, rain, pine needles, sheep or wool for sweaters, cattle, hogs or chickens, certainly no eggs of any kind . . . or leaves changing from green to shades of death colours in the fall

Sorry

I was an obnoxious bitch,
a malignant witch,
to ever treat you so.

Dearest friend,
I'm with you till the end,
our relationship rules,

Forgive and forget,
please don't poor scorn on,
my regret.

A pal and a mate,
our interaction is so great.
Please don't hate me.

childhood disappointment

I remember way, way back then
when first I saw television.
So Dad could judge its worth-while
one was brought to our house for a trial
by the man from Retravision.

He set it up on the back veranda
the better to be able
to run to the aerial on his truck parked outside
the thick, long extension cable.
The neighbours had all been invited
for the free viewing and showing
of the newest wonder money could buy
and the reception they could be expecting
if thinking perhaps the technology to try.

CAUGHT BETWEEN

The cracks of longing
and the tears of goodbye

The pain of losing
and the need not to cry

The realisation of loss great enough
to make you want to die

The dumbing down of knowing
that love has passed you by...

BB 5 November, '10

TITLE TAKEN FROM A SONG BY TOTO

COWARD"S LOVE

How selfish I must be at heart,
and claiming such is just the start,
for cowardly would fit me too.
I'm not the man you thought you knew.

We're both now coming of an age
that's like act three on our life's stage.
Our middle years are passing fast
with autumn coming near at last.

Our passion's not urgent or bright
as it was on our wedding night
but it's still more than just a spark
or memory on which we hark.

My Time...

The hushed hour before dawn
Pastel-pink wash on a sky of robin-egg blue
Just for me

Blackbirds wired like notes in a song
Silhouetted on lamb's-white wall

Radio soft-rock
Girls just wanta have fun
The donut-girl going to work

Neon come on's blink breakfast
Cigarette and coffee in the church parking-lot
Too early for God

Murmers of male voices behind dispatch blare
Buy a car they say
Fly United [heh heh]
Time shares for sale

And I write ...

Don't Mess With My Machine

.
I am settled in mind
of death and taxes,
politics,poverty,
and social status

a philosophical bent
has lent a helping hand
resolving these quaint issues
I know where I stand

but mess with my computer
without my consent
I go lunatic crazy
with only one way to vent

bitching and whining
like a spoiled brat
why oh why
do you keep doing that?

half a day wasted
to get it back in order
the other half spent in
recriminations spat toward her

you, the blank page

you, the blank page

I have seen you before.
you are the taunt to my titillation

never-ending white

I shall cover you with scrawl
until you are covered --

some of it may even be good
scrawl

underneath it all, you are still
blemishless

you, the blank page --
I do love you so

never do you complain --
even when I am vile

at anything I say
you never blink your albino eyes

quintessence of patience
you are

to be so kind to one
so unworthy of your pureness

Fire Engine Blues

The Child I once was and knew so well
Has faded into a hardened shell

I won and lost a battle here and there
But yet, the war it rages everywhere

My wisdom do earn, and then over rate it
And yet, still others will debate it

Faithful trust, just turned into dust
Life was de-veined, derailed, just a bust

I must, I must, I must
Postponed and deflated

Under rated 'twas some other's fate
I entered into life; a little less, then late

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