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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.

 

curvaceous

the body soft and milky white,
the curves indented and smooth …
the twist in the waist line does resume
a natural spontaneous desire
upon young minds to assume
the presentation of the twisted
snaky, wavy curves of a damsel in despair
awaiting her lover, are an open invitation,
to who so ever dares to devour
and
drink sweet poison from mountains and valleys,
subject to the passion of those
yet virgins in body, soul and mind
the bubbling youth ready for a take,
the valleys and mounds at stake,

... o n t o s o p h y ...

Nox noctis

lay day away
wash stars
the vineyards
and dream gates

grains plucked
of gold
morsels of fate
feasts for
forgiving famines

all breath of life
like tides
alive

easing our
days to the
mystique

TATTERED LEAF

With autumn just around the bend
on this warm late August day
worn summer leaves look near their end
as green fades and edges fray.
They prepare to end their stay.

The limbs which hold them look worn out
from burdens born through countless showers
when hard rains pelt and fierce gales shout
but usually for just a few hours
then tempests end and lose their powers.

Not Your Cup Of Tea?

glazy dazed eyes
dark
splintered squints
on shakey stools
dissing fools
of trudging drudgery
even those of flinty passions

we are barroom brothers
grounded in no bothers

chillin' and chattin'
and,
as is our fashion,
never too mindful
of hopes and dreams
(lost or found)
of ours
or others

we,
being bound by no druthers,
find a game, or two,
of pool will do

as for tomorrow
who knows
don't care

HURRICANE -edit

HURRICANE

The air is heavy silent grey
no egrets statues
In the lake
today
the smell of alligators
rot and decay
float slowly towards
the eastern shore
from stagnant waters
of the Everglades
once more.

Nature stands stunned
In fearful anticipation
There is a monster in the sea
and it is coming
this way
to feed and prey.

Peace

Kneeling

as the curtains of time
slipped to drift
in the river of days,
my eyes sighed tears
and my heart
cupped to capture
its communion

praying

as the folds of hours
enveloped and draped
to pool, over hands
in humilities hold,
as each whisper
travelled mere moments
to awaken a Star

unknowingly

my words
had filigreed to glimmer
in milli seconds of wonder,
and the Sapphire dome
now shimmers to mirror
a future enthralled

at peace

To believe or not to believe

Lost god and the elves

There was a time as a child
when elves spoke
and god was the man in the robes
at the front of the church

Christianity indoctrinated me for a while
then I tried to convert a jew
Bigotry claimed me, a lapse in thought
and I blamed a gentle Muslim for jihad

I thought and thought and thought
do non Christians go to hell?
Original sin says so,
so I dismissed that nasty idea.

I studied hard too
theology, philosophy, science.

walking the boards

amongst a cast of lead-supporting roles
though minus script, performance underway
without rehearsal, souls, not knowing goals
from cradle, muddle through, until croquet

mistakes recorded, frozen in forever
creating rippled footstepped lights of hours
to decorate the scars of great endeavour
before the tidal-wave of time devours

while back-stage in the recess of re-runs
imagination’s post-mortems beg change
to find the answers all returns as questions
the thing about this theatre that is strange

BITTER AND SWEET (rhyme patterns final version)

The birds sing in courtship's display
on this, the first warm day of spring
unfortunately the wasps are out
along with fire ant mounds of clay

Flowers' perfumes drift upon the breeze
along with my true love's faint scent
whose "look" tells me to cut the grass
and then trees' pollen makes her sneeze

And walking along a clear lake's shore
where the fair ones swim and ski
I glance down at my knobby knees
then look at the girls once more

Bunch of Needy People !

Misfortune searches for another like same
because misery loves company;

a challenge enjoys another challenger
but, needs a loser for a victory.

The wealthy really don't care for the rich
but, there are networks to be made;

the blue-blooded wealthy would rather ignore the rich
with the way they're always stealing the shade.

Complainers want something to complain about
someone else, must fit that bill;

the greedy are always hungry
but, they never get their fill.

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