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Neopoet Weekly 10/6/24 TO 10/12/24 Winner

 

 

Congratulations to This week’s winner Trail

 

DRIFTING CLOUDS

 

The sun rises a little earlier each day
And each day is brighter than the last
On evenings I walk out to see the sunset
And I walk back with a rested soul

I've tried to be more sincere with myself
To hold my own hand
As I walk through the darkness
To sing to myself once in a while
So that I can hear a voice
Of someone who loves me

It hasn't been an easy ride
But the clouds are coming back from the south now
And with each wave I get a feeling
That it's all going to be alright

I'm waiting for the first rains of the season
Hoping that just maybe
The heavy part of my soul
Will be washed clean
And I can smile again
Even if it's just for a while

I carry a weight in my heart
But when the breeze blows, I look up
I am stunned by the majesty of the clouds
And of the moon, and the stars
This, I think
Is how I survived for so long
A.Swantalala

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

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

DIDN'T THEY TELL YOU?

.
.
DIDN'T THEY TELL YOU?

Ain't it funny how you sold your soul
For a paltry bit of miser's gold?
Your eyes have died, your face is made of wood...
Didn't they tell you now of Judas?
Didn't they tell you how he would as
Soon have paid back twice the sum... if he but could?

Blissfull Sighs

The liquid passion in your eyes
sucks me into the vortex of desire
released from its nether depths
we neck in the bubbly aftermath
floating on its ripples like Swans
soaked in goose bumps
listening to our heart's hub dub
receding into blissful sighs

Innocence lost

The love once shone pure white,
now forever lost from my sight;
A moment lost, I cannot gain back,
of the carefree innocence we now lack
That hour in time eludes capture,
I go on with a wisp of that wonderful rapture.

The Man You See

He goes to work each morning
often before its light
careful to remember
the things he must get right.

The traffic is often heavy
the sky is often grey
but he has to make the best of things
to get him through the day.

He goes back home each evening
sometimes after dark
too late to see those he loves
and take them to the park.

He feels a little weary
with nothing much to say
and slowly drifts off to sleep
too tired to save his day.

SONNET FOR ANNE

SONNET FOR ANNE

When young, I thought my life might leave
A history for those to come,
That my descendants could believe
This ancestor was number one

But now, as time and tide combine
To force this Canute from the strand
I see that all I've left behind
Are footprints fading in wet sand.

My life, I fear, no fairytale
No magic carpet to the stars.
No grief, no mourning, as I fail
Just fond farewell from favourite bar

But this I know, and this is true
My life was great, for I had you

Megaton Pixellation

bruise the grandstand
this empty bystander
shelters eyes with dirty
groans the ragged
throne

you needle works
are shinning like sharp
teeth artifice

This slight and delicate
fever thats fickle
your fist holding love
like a wanton sickle

slip me your pang
of lacerate
how I love your
words
to medicate
and they cut away the wires
rusted thick like blistered
cures
and you sway in S-curve
smooth

MY WAY

Oh, but doesn't he look good
much better than when last he stood
now within this fine steel box
soon closed by the coffin's locks

Embalmed to preserve the flesh
( of what import that it look fresh ?)
don't the ones who mourn and care
know that he's no longer there ?

Soon to be put in the ground
hermetically sealed all around
isolated beyond any fault
underneath a concrete vault

KISMEE AND MY ARMS

Into My Arms
I saw myself embraced
In your arms last night,
Twas in my dream
But now I feel
The warmth of the embrace
Let it stay
Come out of those memories to play
For dreams come to die away
But in life
In our arms place
Love alone,
For ever we do trace.

Kiss me again
Kiss me again
Like last night’s dream
I had a fall you know,
Kiss me the same way
During day
As my life
In your softness ebbs away

On Her Wings

Not so long ago, the journey of life became hard and difficult.
a troubled mind made the waters seem too deep and stormy.
a weakened spirit made the hills feel steep and hard to climb.
a weary heart made the paths seem long and endless.
And the land of hope, joy and peace became distant and impossible to reach.

Crave

cry
douse frustrations
agony
in this cascade
wash away cruelties melted
tasks
all this border harvest ache
striking like lightening
the tinderwork heart

how this smoulder
grows
in winters depths
like a phantom howl
let loose within
grey ghost of dream gate trace

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