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Neopoet Weekly 09/22/24 to 09/28/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-28 15:22

   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!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-21 14:59

                                                                                      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!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Thu, 2024-09-19 21:21

 

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.

 

                         To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

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

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-09-14 14:30

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.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

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

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sun, 2024-09-08 00:50

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

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

14 September Neopoet Weekly 09/8/24 to 09/14/24 Winner!
8 September Neopoet Weekly 09/01/24 to 09/07/24
31 August August 2024 Contest Winners
25 August Neopoet Weekly 08/18/24 to 08/24/24 Winner!
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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Photographer

Submitted by Timbo on Tue, 2011-01-11 06:18

Just give me an aperture
and a shutter speed too
with a bright viewfinder
and a good lens or two.

I’ll take some pictures
in fact quite a few
I will almost certainly
take a picture of you.

But not just anyhow
I like to take my time
It has to be a bit special
a moment frozen in time.

I like to make a picture
something special you see
Not just any old thing, but
a photograph made by me.

Thames Memory

Submitted by Race_9togo on Mon, 2011-01-10 23:22

I knew the river's smell
long before concern
and government control
cleaned the filth from
it's brown mud of water
choked by centuries misuse
and human defecation,
when on nights where
chilled air met warm water
thick fog rose mingling
with the smoke of countless
chimmneys spewing remnants
of burning coal,
and stench of sulphur,
sewage,
and decaying fish
mixed with stink of rotting mud
and seaweed
caught the throat
in grip of lung-heaved nausea.

TRIBUTARY ( edit )

Submitted by scribbler on Mon, 2011-01-10 19:50

It's mid-day and finds me out
easing down a dim game trail
wind's whisper has begun to shout
I wish I was still young and hale

Loud squeaks from tree limbs rubbing
in pines and oaks grown close together
they sway giving themselves a drubbing
in this blustery winter weather

The world in gray and brown and dun
except for the somber evergreens
trees dissect a faded sun
as a nearby nuthatch preens

Moonlight Kiss

Submitted by raj on Mon, 2011-01-10 15:13

Softer than a pillow
pinker than its lace
your lips comfort me
with a silken caress

Skin Deep Beauty You Say

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2011-01-10 13:16

Beauty You Say
Is Skin Deep

In my own experience
Studying the lives of so many folks,
I have clearly seen
Those who have regular sex
Including solo,
Have glowing skin.

Go see the guys face
And
His 59 years old wives’
Glistening at ninety four
And
They could deliver still
What will creams do?
Except make your beauty still

The Vagrant

Submitted by Timbo on Mon, 2011-01-10 11:36

There’s a man who sleeps in the cold at night
on the bench down by the lake in the park.
His pillow, a bag he carries, of the bits he owns
just his jacket, to keep him warm in the dark.

Who was he, before he fell into this way of life
and is there someone who loved him and more.
Did he have a car, a house, a job of importance
was his life something special and happy before.

Bright Eyes

Submitted by Timbo on Mon, 2011-01-10 11:02

You were always there to welcome me, if I came to call
and I’d reach out to touch you, as you sat there in the hall.
Happiness was yours, just watching the children play
just like sleeping and eating, an important part of your day.

When I sat in the chair, you'd climb upon my knee
and with those bright eyes of yours, turn to look at me.
After a while you'd climb back down, heading for the door
going outside into the night to explore a little more.

Hide Jekyll, Hyde!

Submitted by crypticbard on Mon, 2011-01-10 07:20

`

Part demon, part angel,
your gaze draws me nigh.
Part animal, part divine;
the celestial hosts sigh.

Doubts leak like a broken tap,
assurances cloud the sky.
Drip and drop to fill the gap;
your balmy words can't dry.

An easel for pigments to trap;
row by row hung from a vine.
Libation pressed flesh and sap;
A bloodied cudgel rests supine.

`

days later

Submitted by Victorclaude on Mon, 2011-01-10 07:14

days later

days later they
found me.

I said I
would never
do it
again,
but I get
to edit.

the staff
of life is not
bread,
it is fear,

but I
get
to edit,

my
dear.

One by One

Submitted by docmaverick on Mon, 2011-01-10 06:36

Anticpated pleasure
just around the bend,

selfishly, I'm at the task
of making sure it does not end.

With the silkiness of satin
my fingers trace her skin,

not absolutely sure, at first
if I should dare begin.

I squeeze a caress from fingertips
that glide without a sound,

while she busily reciprocates
with passions that astound!

Gyrations produce dividends
that exceed my wildest dreams,

and, neither of us lovers
can get enough, or so it seems.

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