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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Falling in Love

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Mon, 2012-04-23 10:29

Sometimes you fall through a deepening crack,
Mt. Etna burns in your throat, and you spit out broken shards
of clay, coiled like a snake around your own ashes.
Maybe a hole in the sky
opens to strike you down on the way to Damascus
or maybe you walk through a wall on the way
to somewhere else cloaked in invisibility and feathers
of the Great Horned Owl. You've never been here before
and you're a little queasy at first, a little tipsy from
too much sugar in your bloodstream. But then it's

Arousal Unusual

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2012-04-23 04:08

Let me arouse you

No man, no woman,

no two men or women together,

can lie in solitary solitude,

in a single bed untouched.

the male's,

particularly of teens

rises hard as bone,

morning wood

as if forever,

then they two have to manipulate the clitoris,

as man can cum within moments

but women take eons,

so as the manipulations are on,

then sucked

that licked

all is now needed is a slight fix

once the lubricated two
are within each other,

BASIC NEEDS

Submitted by AmmaKonadu on Mon, 2012-04-23 01:56

After I write now...

I need

To write again

I need

To feel the inspiration that comes with it

The emotions that run

Through the hands

Through the fingers

I need 

To feel

My heart racing

To feel

My head pounding

I need

The relief

That floods the soul

The excitement

That tingles in my body

Oh I need

To be whole!

I need 

To be me

Just as I am intended to be

In Need

Of poetry!!

honkas - prose to poetry workshop (final edit) - further addition especially for jess

Submitted by judyanne on Mon, 2012-04-23 00:48

hi voltage cables and bits of PVC
there’s bound to be something interesting
he can make with these
not a spaceship, not a robot
something undefined

lost in imagination’s thrall
danger unnoticed
quietly stalking

honkas

not the small
those tender succulent
sumptuous joy

nor the huge
pinioned transport that soar
up and beyond
to enchantment
and lands where strange people live

but the medium-sized
long sharp teeth and giant wings
aggressive
hungry

Workshop: 
FROM PROSE TO POETRY

Grumpy Guy

Submitted by Jahleel Drigo on Mon, 2012-04-23 00:25

We three grew up together
In that place so far from where stand today
Where the mountains touch the sky
And darkness rests in the depths of the valleys.
Three friends, one really grumpy guy.

Cracking jokes with the other
Hoping he would smile
Even only for a while
He would laugh,it would almost instantly die.
Damn! What a grumpy guy.

Heard fell terribly ill late July
I recall thinking, Surely
He won't be the first of us to die.
On Sunday I said my good bies.

Sherry and the scoundrel (workshop Prose to Poetry) Final edit... back to first write!

Submitted by Cloudthings on Sun, 2012-04-22 22:53

Working backwards
From what the firemen found
A lone woman
On the charred ground
Stilled lungs
Filled with Gasoline smoke
Won’t ever tell the tale
Of a heart so broke

A building burning
By criminal hand
A vengeful payback
For a drug deal demand
She might have made it,
The scoundrel's mole
But in the end,
It was her life they stole
She just couldn’t leave
Her puppy in the fire
So she went back in
To save her heart’s desire

Workshop: 
FROM PROSE TO POETRY

Angel Beneath the Trees

Submitted by phxdreams on Sun, 2012-04-22 20:57

When I first saw you,
You were standing beneath the trees.
I could hear your mind whispering your thoughts.
The winds were circling around you,
Like children in play.
I wondered, if you could feel the embrace they were giving,
or noticed the glow you radiated of beauty.
You reminded me of an angel
who stepped away to sing in solitude
of the wonderments which harbored within.
You caused the tree to weep in sympathy,
with its leaves, to graze upon your skin.
Still, your look was obviously far away,

THE TIN MAN

Submitted by Geremia on Sun, 2012-04-22 20:08

THE TIN MAN

If I had a heart
it would bleed
for losing you.
If I had a soul
it would die
for missing you.
And if this heart and soul
could speak
they would tell you
that I did love you.

river

Submitted by MDT on Sun, 2012-04-22 18:55

take a
step
into
the deep
black water
with ball and chain
and a mind spited with disdain
all the words will soak in pain for an emotive refrain
squirm and quiver at the bed of ice river
sink into the pit of the mentally unfit
and forget the soil of spoils
forever

SPRING PETALS

Submitted by Nordic cloud on Sun, 2012-04-22 14:50

Vitality, spirit, life
its zest sprouts out in colours
diamond facets
from each living thing
when spring puts out its mattress
takes the air

a sprightly step
that sounds the dance we know so well
in rhythms water echoes from its past
remembering the becks and rivers
little streams that prance from rock to sand
along through forest town and land
to glide when gathered

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