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Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Winner!

The winning poem of the

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine is

 Backwards by  Carrie

Congratulations to Carrie on such a unique poem.

 

This week the Neopoem is

 

  My Heart, My Heaven by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on another contest win as a neopoet member.

April 2024 Contest Winners

Congratulations to our April 2024 contest winners!

Spring Fling  was won by Carrie with the poem Spring Fling

04/24 I Was An April Fool was won by Geezer with the poem Fooled Again...

04/24 Waiting In Line was won by  Mary Beth Magee  with the poem The Last Time

04/24 Are We There Yet?  Was won by Rula with the poem We're Almost There For It

04/24 My Favorite Cookie was won by Leslie with the poem After school treat!

This week the Neopoem is

 

 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on his first contest win as a neopoet member.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

A post depression haiku

If we could go back
would we ever have eaten
that stupid apple?

A TAILLESS COW

Who drives away the buzzing flies?
From a lonely calf without tail
When the wounds are open and sore
With no helping hand of shepherds
It must graze like others to live
Green grasses cover the meadow
Houseflies, tsetse flies and lean wasps
Hurry to the nibbling beings
Those with tails swung high and low
To attack, protect and to kill
Driving away the intruders
Who bring, with them, sickness and death
Spreading infections while they nosh
The tailless stands defenselessly
Seemingly tough and immune

FREAKIN' RHYMES! (rhyme crimes fun write)

These rhymes can really be a pain
when I sit down to write
perhaps it isn't worth the gain
have the free versers got it right?

Searching my brain for the word
which avoids that sing-song sound
should I use endured, inured or turd?
decisions make hollow head pound

Then there are rhymes merely near
but how near is close enough?
each time I use near rhyme I fear
that it still sounds a bit Too off

Workshop: 

Cheeky

Sassy cat and chirpy bird,
dirty looks from both.
I don't give a rats behind
and that's what I give most.
Important isn't what it was,
this I clearly see.
So what I do is what I want
and do it happily.
.
Monsters, imps and goblins
can just go take a leap.
I refuse to let them

korruption....

let’s face facts of life ....
Oh Father! someone had said ..
give me wisdom to do what I should,
the intelligence not to do what I shouldn't
but sixth sense to know the difference
or such words to this effect.....

Corruption
she also answers
we at least get water,
light,
electricity,
medicines
bigger companies..

l u n c h b o x x

pin hinge
tin ridge

rain drums

sweet air
wild hair
outside the house
lair

twist pretty stars
no stares
thoughts and being
no analyze the feeling

no Ju Ju dream stealing

got all the bits and peices
memories
folded full of creases

love in a box
left open
no breaking the locks

couch potato (rhyme crimes exercise 4)

I could go get the pencil but
it really seems I've hit a rut
and kegs of ale I want to quaff
to stop the world, and then get off

I sit here on my lounge-room chair
and think on things like life and stuff
and hope in vain I'll be inspired
one day to wake up just enough
to write words of my own wisdom
if only I could think of some
but it is hard, one cannot bluff
and I am just too doggone tired
'cause sometimes it is just too tough
to think up clever things to share

Workshop: 

We Were Swans Dreaming

I wanted you to turn around
but you walked away,
you turned the corner
and disappeared before
I knew your face--the
lines wrinkling your brows
adjacent to
the steel hammer of your eyes
as you broke into laughter
yawning into the rain.

I wanted to feel
the way you wrote your poems
with the left side of your heart
I wanted to hear them all
but the wind wrapped them
up with total darkness,
it was all more than
a dream.

summer Haiku

I await autumn
as I sit among the green
and sweat drips from nose

The Poet

Metered summer days quick-dry the fresh mirage
so just because, we'd ring the bell,
and opened every door no matter where we'd been!
Except for in my den
but, things all ended up well;
I'm the sincere poet.

Magic muse that abuses my every suffering
leave me be in silence, from my cell;
be honest, tell me should I "post"?
I'm really, just the host;
be too dark, and your poems may not sell;
I'm the tortured poet.

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