Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

THE YEARS IN BETWEEN

THE YEARS IN BETWEEN

At first, there was fun and laughter
Youthful exuberance, happy faces
Always smiling from head to toes
Days with so many twists and turns
All bereft of any cares or concerns
It was a life that led me by the nose
Into many new and exciting places
Unlike the times that followed after

The monster under my bed

Darkness falls into
the midnight hour
at the verge of the edge
Shivering on a cold night
In the abandoned house
filled with hunger and despair
Carrying with a racing heartbeat
Laying on the funky bed
I’m hearing a creepy noise
coming out with a heavy step
shaking hard like an earthquake
it looks like the head is sticking out
staring at me with a hard
thick of an alligator’s core skin
with long green reptile’s tongue
and big open wide sharp teeth
Ready to eat me for his dinner

A ZOMBIE HALLOWEEN

I want to love the world, but I need to eat more brains,
They fill me to the brim, as my victim’s life blood drains.
I love to skip and run, I’ll “meat” you half way,
On days like this I long to see your entrails on display.

My useless leg is limp, the joint was cruelly broken,
I couldn’t scream stop, words uttered went unspoken.
The slither of their walk and their stumbling attack,
I fell into peril, everything turned to black.

Just Move On To The Next House

I wouldn’t walk to the old mill house
To get treats at Halloween;
For that’s the place where loud screams are heard,
And where ghosts are often seen.

Inside those walls on All Hallows’ Eve,
There are things that’ll raise your skin;
Like an ice cold touch, or a creaking chair,
Or a slamming door within.

And don’t peer in through the cellar glass,
Where there’re bodies buried there;
With eyes in jars that are lined on shelves,
That will turn on you and stare.

Psithurism

It is so quiet here,
but for the rustling
sound of the wind
through the leaves.

It is called psithurism,
a word that hushes
my small world as I speak its name.

Oh, Israel,
Oh, Palestine,
Oh, Ukraine, Russia, Sudan,
Oh, innocent people of nations rattled by war,

I pray for your whispering leaves
that you may feel their hush, know their rest.

I watch as a great hawk skims the air,
its mighty wings, gloriously free.

07/57

Read, relive, repeat,

The day when the beginning birthed,
When the sun seldom sat on the face of the earth,
A little bright, a little blurry,
When nature calm, crawling, taking up again
The Lord seeing through shiny eyes, professing goodness,
Everything is good: better
All is well, All is well.

Rejoice, Recieve, Repeat

The Night Before Day Break

The Night before Day Break
it was dark, so dark
The moon refused to give its light
A dark and Silent Sky
A Slight twinkling of star light
A cool breeze began to blow
Heralding the break of down
Soon it was twilight
And the day began to break

APPARENTLY, GOD MADE WOMAN

Sunlight meets dust,
And Adam’s bone.
In cloud there’s chaos,
Yet still alone.
She roars in silence,
To rattle and hum.
Guided by science,
learn when you’re numb.
Born into sin,
Growing aged and wise.
From where we begin,
Living with lies.
Seeing and hearing,
Keep your eyes shut.
Existing while fearing,
Her senses are cut.
Loving and lusting,
Desire undressed,
Truth is not trusting,
If you’re naked, distressed.

Monthly Halloween contest

There I am standing in
at the midnight hour
that it is approaching
embracing at my own pace
alone and frightening
by the haunting sound
of the crying souls
Fear shooting down to
my spine
as I am feeling weak to
my knees
at the cemetery passing
greeting by the howling
wind and the dancing of the
tombstones stay
causing my heart skipping a beat
to find a way to escape
from this dreadful place
that is reminding me that death
is coming on this day
Friday the 13th

Fabulous Freddy

Intrusive, invading, impulsive
Through my dreams he crept
Tainted, taunted, tortured
By the secrets that he kept

Ripping, raiding, ravaged
Subconscious fantasies played
Motionless, mimicking, mindless
Through his claws, the scars he laid

Blood lust, bedfellows, begone
His stench lingered on my breast
Perverse, primal, pathetic
A tortured soul not laid to rest

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.