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 Journey of Your Song

It's a lonely, truthful journey
finding your voice, with which to sing,
even worse, then there's the journey for your song;

but, we all sing from our essence
to share the truths each heart may bring,
so sing out loud, sing out clear, and sing out strong.

After a while, you may meet someone
who may fancy the same "life tune",
but, their performance of the song does not ring, true:

green eyes! still unseen......

what fool must he be
to ignore lovely eyes
as yours

you have four boys
and
a girl
keep your family intact
each one is a pearl
including him
for whom your poem
now you unfurl

hope he does awake
from the slumber
in which he basks
and
its high time that
now he unmasks

Welcome to the Block

`

Curses lick with jest
at the small
of your back,
then they sear -
stinging hot:

Look around,
oath on jaundiced cloud;
kids with eyes
big as watermelons
hold the prods of hell's burning.

`

blue porcelain bowl

I am the blue porcelain bowl
got in China
with a chip inside
rim of my bottom ring

only I know it's there

there was a defect
in firing when I was
made -- left a fissure
so small it went unnoticed

lady from San Francisco
who bought me in Guangdong
brought me home
never noticed invisible crack
under me

on trans-Pacific voyage
a little piece fell off --
packing box never told
about sliver of blue

Night Owls

Pale eyes peer down
from leafless oak
beneath the watchful gleam
of ice-chip stars
on moonless nights,
when they dance
their whispered death
on silent wings of hunger.

No quiet hints
of tiny feet
escape attention,
no faintest rustle
dim in darkness
evades anticipation,
no silence paused
on edge of fear
will lose the focus
of sharp ear
when they listen
for patterings of prey.

Too Dumb For A Title

.
chatterbox jiber jabber yak attack clackin' clatter

this can happen on paper too
it does all the time
I know
I do

as the verbal vandal, striking again,
I ramble and amble to
no logical end

practice and practice
that's what they say
and I could be named
..."Motor Mouth of the Page"

THE STRIPPER

Standing alone for all to stare
immodest limbs slowly sway
taking no notice, doesn't care
what you might think of the display

Only one light on comely form
but, then, one's all that's needed
disrobing has become the norm
gawking and dropped jaws go unheeded

Garish garb is slowly shed
slow dancing to an unheard tune
there goes the cloth of mostly red
full nudity will be here soon

Realization

With always busy life
from every side defiled
by those whom unending strife
took to new lows of sin reviled

I suddenly realized
their cold antipathy
successful living demonized
was nothing but a bleak facsimile
of the human psyche unraveled.

FULL CIRCLE

the Discontent began -
surreptitious and slow,
stirring beneath a cauldron
of pained resentment
neither owned,
nor wished to know

Assiduously acknowledged as normal, "part of growth"
The blows became insidious
glancing past repose.
Striking at the very heart of her being
This man rescinding his gifts -
His love, His feelings.

(eddy styx:) Dark Moon

Dark Moon

being not fond of moonlight
When I ply my trade
I tend toward the filmy
veil of shadows and
the dark moon mysteries
my excellent night vision
keeps me on target
bringing me to your
irresistible circular stair
where I the candle snuffer
will extinguish your fragile flame
and shed a heartfelt tear
as I witness the fading embers
and the one pure moment
of created dying art

Pages

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