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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

A Murder

Submitted by Rainy Day on Fri, 2012-04-27 03:21

A murder appeared today,
Landed in the trees,
Unbelieveable the stories,
I heard amongst the leaves,

Orange foilage amongst black shapes,
The branches weighed down,
Heavy ladened beneath the feet,
Of the murder that arrived in town,

Hundreds of black eyes,
Beaded with cold rain,
Watching from limbs high above,
As the wind moans and wanes,

Shall they shout accusations,
To the passerbys below,
Who will be named the culprit,
As the mystery grows?

sub rent

Submitted by Eislen on Thu, 2012-04-26 23:39

Occupancy and lesser
atrocity,

thrown eccentricities.

My wheel is thick,
and the mile is wicked,
(burberry light frownings,
unicorn drownings)
In umber steerage
I heel!
elixir parties rush,
and the club crush.

"into the rushing beast of the night
sucked up by that great dragon to split
with my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry."

A Sexton Qoute from
ALL MY PRETTY ONES

Eislen 2011

My Moon (Jess’s poem from Barbara’s prose)

Submitted by weirdelf on Thu, 2012-04-26 22:19

My Moon (Jess’s poem from Barbara’s prose)

Moon shining on couples in love,
waves that wash away aeons
counter of celestial events
cataclysmic and pastoral

Omnipresent moon,
both distant in meaningless ways
and as close as a touch
speaks to us everywhere
man, or beast.
Where creations brilliance in a dark starry night?
Lovers and thieves, complicit in moonlight

Workshop: 
FROM PROSE TO POETRY

"REAL MAN'S DOG" (prose to poetry shop)

Submitted by scribbler on Thu, 2012-04-26 21:51

Here's Wesley's prose entry. Dick knew where it was going the moment the Akita and his young handler arrived at class. He was confident the dog weighed 120 pounds while the boy, all of 12 years old, wouldn't tip the scale at 90. The mother and son had wanted a Labrador, daddy wanted a "man's" dog.
What they got was trouble.

Workshop: 
FROM PROSE TO POETRY

On Learning of Your Death

Submitted by faerybeki on Thu, 2012-04-26 17:31

I cried
initially
I wept
for you
and for those of us
left
here
reeling

and now
I have an
overwhelming need
to write
this poem.

I choose
to celebrate
Life.
Your life.
The handle bar moustache
and the alsatian,
Slopey, who would
always give one paw,
then the other one
whenever you asked.

Stars

Submitted by MDT on Thu, 2012-04-26 16:57

the sun has set,
as we lay on the warm earth
and look upon the purple sky
to map out our destined birth
in constellation of astrological sic-fi

i Whisper,
look how our cosmic myths interweave,
how the planets shine this eve,
Venus is always first to appear, and disappear.

As we sit on the windowsill
and gaze into the night so still
life's mystic notions draw us
to wish upon the sparkle lights, millions of galaxies away.

Exaggeration

Submitted by PianoBoy on Thu, 2012-04-26 16:28

Quickly running.
Sprinting through the forest of despair.
My chaser shows a measurable cunning.
My legs will quit, but I won't dare.

Many a branch flitting past me.
Leaves are crushed beneath my feet.
Swimming through the Sea of Many Tree.
It seems he has reserved for me a seat.

Brightly colored fruits bound upon tall plants.
A summer of metaphorical beauty.
The clouds trudging through the sky like ants.
The strength of my will is its duty.

Well? If I were your muse....

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Thu, 2012-04-26 16:18

1.

Oh, love-starved little boy
boy...boy...boy
how you beg for those kisses
kisses...kisses...kisses
to enfold your own image
image...image...image
down the well,
well...well...well

well, what have we here
but a love-starved little boy...boy...boy.

2.

There's a spider in the well trying to crawl up
while the rain is falling down. Sometimes
I imagine I'm a hump-backed old woman by the well,
drawing cool, clear water for you,
dear weary wanderer so very far
away from home.

SOMEWHERE HERE

Submitted by Nordic cloud on Thu, 2012-04-26 14:49

SOMEWHERE HERE

That was then and this is now
and when the this became a now
I don't know, somehow,
as then was then, and now is now
and yet its all ideas somehow,
we make a this and make a that,
a now that isn't there, it must be there
or here somewhere
so find it please before I sneeze
and send it off to where, nowhere,
somewhere there.

A LOVE STORY

Submitted by AmmaKonadu on Thu, 2012-04-26 13:35

I carried a heavy load
….of nothing

I traded my treasured gold
…for dung

I betrayed the hero
…of that ultimate love story

I climbed down the tallest tree
…and burrowed down black soil

I possessed those idols
…with all their vegetable nature

As the deadliest kind of poverty
…gnawed away at my soul

And after I set the table for dinner…

I sat to a meal of rotten flesh
…and drank of the most poisonous venom

I feasted with smiles…smiles that never reached my eyes.

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