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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

China cup...

Submitted by Roscoe Lane on Fri, 2012-01-06 05:50

China cup…

From a china cup, she sips,
I try not to stare.
Fluid is her touch, mind trips,
wishing my lips there.

Cup to mouth with ease,
pert the aftershock.
Nearly on my knees,
life a timeless clock.

My heart begins to thrill,
amour is now returned.
Let the world stand still,
new love has now burned.

At last we share her smile,
each, nicely discreet,
Breath, hints of camomile,
gentle, nectar sweet.

Mad Professor

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Fri, 2012-01-06 04:37

911, state your emergency
Yes, I need to extract stupidity
Is there such a surgery

Excuse me sir, I’m a bit confused
Well, operator, so am I
See, my intelligence was abused

Sir, are you in any kind of danger
Not precisely but my sanity
Is being stolen by a stranger

Sir, are you taking any medications
Yes, I have a mini pharmacy
Which are good for his complications

Is, there another person in the room
Yes, an accredited professor
Who is disturbed I assume

Living In Doubt

Submitted by China Blue on Thu, 2012-01-05 20:52

If home is where the heart is
then I'm never home
If seeing is believing
then I've yet to be shown

I know not where I am going
not knowing where I've been
Dark, lonely and empty
are the places
that I've seen

I've lost myself
along the way
Some how, somewhere
I've gone astray

A gentle voice
keeps calling me
I know that voice
Is my lost spirituality

Like a lonely child
It cries
Please come back to me

Brave Hearts (prose) reformatted

Submitted by Candlewitch on Thu, 2012-01-05 13:43

Brave Hearts
Winter was decked out white, in a soft velvet mantle. They came across the compass rose through the driven snow to meet. He memorized her eyes over cigarettes and cappuccino at the corner table. Muffled music played inside his spinning head.

Within the winter of his heart was the marriage of sultry, smoky, Jazz with his dreams of loving. Inside the cafe, reflective conversation could be heard through the ceiling tiles. He felt muted longing in the intensity of the echoing ache that was the vast, empty cavern of his heart.

Creativity! Thy Name Is Loved

Submitted by loved on Thu, 2012-01-05 13:25

I am grateful,
To all Neopoet’s,
Who have broken the shell of
Mundane poetry…
As most now emerge,
From the cocoon of a stereotyped
Archaic and ancient design of
Poetry, of the ab, ab, cd, cd, etc kind
And
Project, their very own,
Extraordinarily creative personality,

Breaking News

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Thu, 2012-01-05 04:24

Oh, great
Another political scandal
Let me guess
She’s sixteen

how in the world
will he explain
this mess

the details are getting vivid
empty bottles, condoms
and cheerleader pompoms

wait, it might not be him
there goes wishful thinking
the mastermind
made reservations
with his own credit card

thanks for watching
breaking news at ten
don’t miss out tomorrow
when we finally find
who killed the missing hen

S V E R R I R

Submitted by Esker on Thu, 2012-01-05 01:42

come
let this fire speak truths
let us feast and not forget the dead
we are whats left
this old gaurd
hunters with our runes
and bones that spill their ache
like hungry winds
against our rooves

did we not follow hooves
worried with wolves
we are warmed with charity
of good women and dulcet
songs so let this moon
still seek our souls come
dawn alive with light
as this night
of winter long

...

OLD MAN IN CAMP

Submitted by scribbler on Wed, 2012-01-04 23:02

There he sits in hunting camp
in the background in a folding chair
while younger men stand all around.
His attention wanders off elsewhere

They all talk of this day's stalk
whether turkey,deer or hurtling duck.
He sits with hardly one spare word
thinking about his former luck.

'Cause in his mind he's far away
gone back to his younger days
watching squirrels as they'd play
stealing down a game trail's maze.

suggestion

Submitted by lou on Wed, 2012-01-04 22:57

I long to set myself free
push the boundaries.
Open my mind,,gain knowledge
Expand my point of view 

Internal versus external satisfaction
Why not strive to be
Well informed, well read,  set for adventure  
With a healthy dose of pop culture.

I have achieved a mere suggestion
the tip of the ice burg,
of what i can achieve.
need to reach my potential.

What Have I Lost?

Submitted by Race_9togo on Wed, 2012-01-04 19:38

I finally told him,
sitting in
inevitable bar,
noisome with the
ever-present stinks
of spilled beer
and cigarettes,
the stale musky scent
of listless dancing women
thick upon the air.

He sneered at me,
eyes vacant,
mind stained black
by decades
of drink and hate
and said
“You can use her,
you can fuck her,
hell, you can
even love her,
but don’t you ever
bring that nigger
to my home.”

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