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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

TESTAMENT

Submitted by Geremia on Mon, 2012-03-12 17:11

TESTAMENT

As time steals my days
I see myself decay
Still I have my mind
and pray
the beast will never find
me there
and if it does
i hope not to know
whereof
I came
whereto I go
and yearn to leave
this place
in the bliss
of ignorance
my enemies
my friends again
failures meaningless
where opinion rules
all betrayers fools
for having never seen
another human being
behind the screen
of words

SEPTIC TANK (IMAGERY IN POETRY - OLFACTORY)

Submitted by Tam the Chanter on Mon, 2012-03-12 16:26

SEPTIC TANK

He staggers blindly down the street, thick , grey fog swirls round.
The silence cheats him of his sense of hearing , not a sound .
He knows that if he uses the old walking stick he'd found
Then, like a blind man he could make his way

The bridge had washed away, now how to reach the other bank
He comes to the decision to cross by the septic tank
Knows he is near when all around him rises smell so rank
That he can feel his nose start to decay.

Workshop: 
IMAGERY IN POETRY (for everyone)

A Walk On The Beach(IMAGERY WORKSHOP SUBMISSION)

Submitted by China Blue on Mon, 2012-03-12 16:07

The ocean and it's beaches
what then is more wonderful
Thunderous waves crashing on to the shore
Beating the sand into submission
Sounding much like a violent storm

The hiss left by the breaking waves
As it scurried back to the sea

The air is filled with the cries of seagulls
In search of food
Radios from the beach dwellers produce a cacophony
of sound as different stations come together

Workshop: 
IMAGERY IN POETRY (for everyone)

First Flower/Imagery Workshop.

Submitted by Nordic cloud on Mon, 2012-03-12 15:57

Kinesthetic/ First flower.

See how snow edged woods
display such white array of dazzling carpets,
wide, beneath the taller bare twigged trees
they spread their happy bells,
full dresses for the ball,
the grand explosive dance of spring
revolving in a waltz,
to turn the minds of birds and beasts
upside down, downside up,
round and round the round about of growth,
that rises, slowly rises up to light.

Workshop: 
IMAGERY IN POETRY (for everyone)

Jetty

Submitted by Esker on Mon, 2012-03-12 15:54

awash in briny wake
my tale is sparce
these soaked foam
ravages from bitter
mouths that croak
as hungry cormorants
that trill

and how my shoulder
aches where we brothers
held our arms and wore
away the day like flesh
and lives that life did
make the meal for
deaths plate

(kettle is boiled
gotta go make coffee
take pain killers and
catch some sleep..
Was headed somewhere
with this poem...sorry)

Trinity

Submitted by Feebie on Mon, 2012-03-12 14:26

A tribute to trinity
as the moon seems to wane
how is one so demented
meant to even remain sane

a tribute to trinity
as the sun sees his early rise
so to does the light of day
show to humanity their slow demise

the killing of the trinity
no more in fear do mere men dwell
for in this new millenium
we have brought home the fires of hell

ancients of trinity long forgotten
buried in downtrodden ruins
no more wisdom to be handed down
all old ways renounced by the moderns

Man I'm Talking to You

Submitted by Lepadah on Mon, 2012-03-12 14:12

Player playing
isolate mind eye
fluid body politics
conflict columns compass

upon altar
strange crooked beings
acquire quakes akin to mine
one needed a beloved
less wane jewels to freaks

man . . .
you were once the perfect whim
tender enormous rhythms, polemics & birdie Haiku
happy with the Motown sound
set in old wax; newly found

soft-pedaling down memory lane
"Ooh-oo child" up the 5 Stairsteps
ascend empyrean
Ooo-oo . . . soulful real

Tin Roofs & Rain (Imaging Workshop Entry)

Submitted by Debra Bryant on Mon, 2012-03-12 13:34

Out for an early morning ramble
on an overgrown lane
The sky grey and overcast
menacing with rain.

I happen upon a long forgotten
and broken-down old barn.
pausing to rest a spell
I reflect upon this scene

Rusty tin roof sway backed and
sagging as an old saddle horse.
Tin edges warped and curled back
flutter in the wind.

Workshop: 
IMAGERY IN POETRY (for everyone)

Dyslectic Poet

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2012-03-12 13:00

Dyslectic Poet
I have keenly observed,
you always add
portions of a poet’s
rendition,
it adds color to beauty
and perfume
sublime ,
as I now learn lovelier criticism of thine
as upon the delicacies of poetry
and
connoisseur of beauty,
I myself define .
you are the one and only one
immensely refine,
to let me know
when,
if ever I shall be able to pen
in print,
a poetry book of mine
truthfully,
no jam ,no butter
Cat you could be
curt and bitter.

Witches Pride (Reckoning of the Adversary) eddy styx (updated)

Submitted by Candlewitch on Mon, 2012-03-12 11:45

Witches Pride
(Reckoning of the Adversary

darkest heart
black as pitch
lying there
I saw you twitch

seeming still
playing dead
the scent of fear
'round your cowardly head

but I see you
you lying hag
pretending to be
a heap of rag

a hank of hair
a piece of bone
the only claim left
your fallen throne

you dirty thing
tattered and worn
wishing now
you'd never been born

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