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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.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

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

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest

 

 

 

Read the finalists for the Autumn Arrival Image Prompt Contest and vote for your favorite poem. Voting will end September 19th, 2024. Best of luck to our finalists

 

Image Link

 

 

Autumn Rain

By Punkyfrewster

Drops pelt the
fallen leaves
bringing to mind
tears falling
over beauty
and lost love.

Rain bounces
off the
confetti on the
ground like
the damaged end
of a party.

 

 

Autumn's Cusp

By scribbler

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.

 

                                                                                               Vote Here

August 2024 Contest Winners

The Winner of the Peace Versus War is Lavender  with the following poem

To Those Who Walked, Peace Versus War

 

I hope you have a quiet day,
a kissing breeze,
sweet hours at ease
planting flowers, if you please,
and nothing there to rip it all away.
I hope you have that day.

I pray you have a gentle night,
under stars so deep
they soothe and keep
your soft breath flowing as you sleep
beneath the crescent moon and her earthlight.
I pray you have that night.

And may your memories be amended
to blissful skies and green earth, so splendid
that they embrace you when you close your eyes.
May this be the rich life you come to realize.

To those who walked through the blood of yesternight,
I hope for you this day. I pray for you this night.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The Winner of the 08/24 Too Good to be True  is Punkyfrewster with the following poem

Too Good to be True

 

In my mind, it was bliss
day in and day out
until the day it ended.

In the rearview mirror,
I saw signs:
far-off gazes to nowhere
as we ate dinner
and stalled conversations
about your day.

All the bliss aside,
our love was just
too good to be true.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The Winner of the 08/24 I Lost The Instructions is Candlewitch   with the following poem

 

I Lost The Instructions (to being a woman)

 

I Lost The Instructions
(to being a woman)

You beat "Her" out of me
leaving my soul tattered.
In the beginning you were kind
warm and jovial, it mattered.

Gradually you began to change
taking me away from all I knew,
from Minnesota to the east coast
an easy ride we drove straight through.

I discovered your evil temper
on our trip, it left me in fear,
knocking me down, kicking me
you bellowed, shouting, making it clear.

You were the boss, and me your slave
seeing the cruel glint in your eye
was an omen of what was soon to come
you would test me in ways to make me cry...

Each new day was a promise of terror
you invented head-games to play.
In fear, I trembled trying to hide
tried not to anticipate the rue of the day.

nights were bad too, I cowered under covers
You brutalized me sexually to hear me scream
threatening to blow my head off my shoulders
losing connection with my idea of a woman's dream!

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The Winner of the 08/24 Broken Air Condition is Kristen H. with the following poem

Broken Air Condition

 

We never had much more than each other
in the summer of 2016

Adventures on Saturday nights
Two wheels
Two helmets
Two hearts

Lazy Sunday mornings
Two cups of coffee
Two cigarettes burned
Two hands together

There wasn’t much to it
Just you and I,
and our broken air conditioner

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The Winner of the 08/24 Beach Day is  paleoray with the following poem

 

Shore Watch

 

Splashing, crashing sound the waves
On the surf and then retrieve;
As the foam spreads on the sand,
While the pipers dash and weave.

High above the seagulls glide,
Circling 'round a sea of teal;
Others swooping close to pier,
Looking for an easy meal.

In the distance dolphins dive,
With their synchronizing breaks;
Dorsal fins shine at each peak,
Then they submerge in their wakes.

Sand crabs scurry back and forth,
Seeking food along the shore;
After catching fish with claws,
Quick they vanish as they bore.

Soon the sun sets in the west,
As the moon brings mirrored light;
Ocean tides smooth out the sand,
While the waves gleam through the night.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

 

The Winner of the Neopoet Weekly 08/25/24 to 08/31/24 is Twizzle48 with the following poem

 

WINTER COMETH

 

Do you hear winter, I hear it coming
That distant growl, there in the wind
Stronger now, than an autumn breeze
With the merest hint of an early freeze
And with no sweet taste like tamarind
But a biting cold that can be numbing

For some, it is a season for celebration
But its hidden scowl suggests otherwise
Hearing threats under its frozen breath
Of ice and snow, laying so still in death
Pretty snowflakes offering cute disguise
As so much of Nature is in hibernation

At least this is true in Northern climes
Just bleak with not much give and take
And still, some try to understand why
As the end of the calendar year is nigh
But there is hope following in its wake
Anticipating the Spring’s warmer times

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.

 

never broken

Now here’s a first. I don’t feel like writing.
Too sad to care or to express the pain.
With my own inner soul I am fighting
wanting to know where and when is the gain.
I fail right now to see reason, purpose.
I sit as a melancholic black cloud
from deep within weaves, wends to the surface
then envelops me like a dark death shroud.
As memory loosens the old bandaid
never to heal, just covering, protecting,
the gaping wound at the exposure made
whispers, at edge of near-understanding:

Hurricane Hugo has it been twenty-years

Hurricane Hugo has it been twenty-years

Has it been twenty-years since Hugo hit
My first child, a son, was three-years, five-months
And my only daughter, at the time, was eight-months
Slept unaware in my bathtub padded with blankets

I knelt before my headboard
Staring out my window
Listening to the howling winds as it sang songs of terror
As the trees swayed in the midnight hours

HOW TO LOSE A LOVER (a 12 step program )

Listen up now all you guys
the following contains no lies
should you wish to live sans lover
here's some hints you can discover :

Miss. Anxiety

Flirting with fate
As she seduces you
With words
That make love
To your ears

Her weapon of choice
An overwhelming
Sense of worthlessness
Bestowed on her
Victims

Effortlessly, she rips
Her prey’s confidence
Without any hope
Of regaining it

OH NO !

Another rerun.....

I've got to go on a crash diet
and grow a head of hair
whatever works, well I shall try it
to keep my head from being bare

I need to trim my mustache neat
and shave 'most every day
and, again, watch what I eat
so some of me will go away

Trim the hair in ears and nose
clip nails on fingers and on toes
use drops to allay bloodshot eyes
work out the jiggle in my thighs

levenslang stil

Here within lies
a recollection
of large talons
that tear smooth

creamy flesh

a cadence ricochets
off paint peeled walls
of the clatter as soles
strike dry dirt and stone

blood rushes

two sets of eyes
squint and scan
backs hunched low
only darkness shields

momentary peace

words mumbled
in restless sleep
betray the vessel
of secrets deep

burial crypt

posterity's portal
reveals a clue
gravestone cipher
the silent cue.

poet first

poetry written is for poet first
only person who must be pleased

stretching words thin
tantalizing them to mean
what they mean
beyond what they mean

word play --
not a contact sport
but for firing neurons
skipping electro-chemical light
in darkness of skulls

critics pick and pull
poet's words
stack opinion upon opinion
losing meaning
perhaps only poet knows

poet just keeps writing
for him or herself --

most ruthless of critics.

"BLACK MOON" or the end of the world as we know it.
Margaret Ann Waddicor Novmber 13th 2010.

Black moon,
your glow eclipsed,
the clouds lit by the flare
from burning lights of cities,
towns;
weep,
weep your tears
of sorrow,
for on the morrow
weeds will form,
in place of life,
its vigour
and lacking daylight,
wither.

DAWN on WALLSTREET

On a top floor balcony I sit
in our great east coast city
as the night fades into day
among concrete business monoliths

The last few visible stars fade
into skies turning slowly black to gray
all silent save a lone street cleaner
slowly chugging down empty streets

Sun still drowned by tattered ocean
although under lighting horse tail cirrus clouds
with a soft saffron glow
alongside cris-crossed contrails

SHE

She's empty, a recepticle ,translucent.
No obvious personality ,
Deconstructed.

She is battered and bruised
Misused.
Frightened to emerge.
terrified he might see.

Playing dead, guarding
her sanity.
defending a personal reality.

Recieving body blows,
crushing all self esteem.
Grinding her to a tiny nub.

Tiny crumb of self
remains, .Something to hold onto.
When all else has fled.

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