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.

Home

Community News

The poem I'm Still Here by RAVENNIGHT has been selected as the Neopoem Of The Week. Congratulations to RAVENNIGH on her creation. To read this poem please click below. Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly poem.

https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/poems/im-still-here

Neopoet Random Challenge # 17 Winner

The winner of the Neopoet Random Challenge #17 contest is Eftichia1 with her poem In the Mirror Of Time. To read the winning poem please visit:

https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/poems/mirror-time

Neopoet Random Challenge # 18

Neopoet.com wants to challenge you to write poetry about this month's random topic that is provided below.

Objectives: If you so accept this challenge, all you have to do is choose one or more of the following topics and write one or more poems based on your choice or choices. Please make sure your poem or poems are between 12 to 32 lines. Certificates will be given to those that use the topic as their title.

Topics
1) Waiting room
2) At The Bar
3) I'm Back
4) Hidden Room

To learn more about our contests and prizes please visit:
https://www.neopoet.com/contest/program-description-and-guidelines

Summertime Blues Contest Winner!

Abby has won this month's poetry contest with the poem Summertime Blues.
Congratulations to Abby on winning this month's contest.

Read the winning poem here
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/poems/summertime-blues

Description: Write a poem about What life means to you. Poems must be free verse or structured and thirty two lines or less.

Contest Link
https://www.neopoet.com/contest/what-life-means-me-contest

Create your poem here.
https://www.neopoet.com/node/add/poem

About Contests
https://www.neopoet.com/node/add/poem

Winner may advance to the final contest in January 2023

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

The In-Between

Concealed in the darkness of time,
Gone are the wondrous years of my prime,
My thread never sliced by the fates,
Untouched by death’s unforgiving gates,
I do not live nor am I dead,
To Chronos I forever pled,
Becoming free from residing in between,
Let me roam to where I am once again seen,
Fearsome I am certainly not,
A vow of obedience I have brought,
Not agreeing to free my deserving self,
You will soon feel the wrath of my full health,
I will enjoy returning to where I was once loved,

MAKE ME

MAKE ME

Make me, she said to me, out loud
With a hint of challenge in the air
But I realised it was just a request
A voice came from that block of clay
That was a sculpture project for today
And I knew full well it was my quest
Her plea was so real to me, I swear
Wanting to feel I’d done her proud

Poetry From My Mother...

She wrote this as surely
as if it were her own hand
She inspired me to look at
everyday things with new eyes.

She taught me to take the things
that life hands out
and make them new and exciting
To look at something small and insignificant
[in other eyes] and see the beauty

I did not always apply the lessons
that she taught me, to my own life
I made mistakes
She did not chasten me
she let silence and consequence
bring home the lesson

Self Resurrection

I healed from my past
Looking back I can now laugh
Never paying revenge to tame my ego
The debts I paid were illegal

Hands on my body that made me cry
My story, I was taught to deny
So low, the ground was above me
No one cared to dig me free

I found a tool to dig my way out
Pen in my pocket I began to shout
As I began to scribe on my tomb
The seals began to break as if I were in a womb

Letter to the Mothers of Poets

It is some form of magic
ancient forces of ambiguity
That gives birth to poetry

Secret messages delivered
To the womb at light speed
Encrypted for the few brave enough to listen

Transmuted by pain and love
Selfless sacrifice of child birth
Doth become this mother of creation

Worlds of words await audience
Perched on lips like so many starlings
Who upon revelation, are given to flight

Blessed are the few lucky ones
Present of mind and clear of sight
Who bear witness to such incantations

Hephaestus And Prometheus

Prometheus,
Oh temple brother of mine,
Somber omen has been fulfilled,
Within my tearful eyes,
A pitiful plight ails you,
I have become your inflictor of torment,
Your eternal hate shall haunt me,
Can you ever forgive me,

Prometheus speaks,
I have placed upon my scales,
My heart which is filled with brotherly love for you,
And it has certainly outweighed my hate,
So fear not,
Your chains shall be a comfort to me,
As they are from you,
Forever with me,
Oh brother of mine.

Today there's a burning fire...within me

Today there is a burning fire within me
to compose a newer kind of poetry
that ignites infallible minds of humanity

such a kind of poetry
where two beloveds
face one another

as one smiles
balloons of kisses fly
crowds in great abandon....
hide behind a veil of time

no clouds are needed
all want an audience blind

so be it my way to say
stay
do read my desires
once in a way...

have an exotic night or day
where ever you are...
you may...
this is my thought for today

My Love My Rotting Leaves (Part 2 Collaborative)

a witch doctor was listed
in my "Book Of Shadows" here
to call upon his services
it was high time 'twas clear

he arrived at midnight
upon the witching hour
in full witch Dr. regalia
he, feeling his full power

setting a black cloth on the table
to hold my beloved so dear
next to gather essential items
for the dark spell so drear'

Witch doctor Mumbo-Jumbo
is pretty good I hear
He's filled the air with magic
and drunk a case of beer

RECHARGING THE BATTERIES

The Platte River flows by,
a smooth churn
the water plants ripple in the current

I trust this
the water flowing by
these plants clinging to the bottom.

What is it
that I do not trust

not the wildlife here
their unbroken acts of each species so visible

In these Colorado mountains just into the front range a bit
trusting those to be, well, giants of the landscapes.I

I stole a little piece of the riverbank
my theft out well into the water
in the waterway splitting around an island

My Love My Rotting Leaves

Apples are no treat for me
(or anyone really)
nothing to excite,
nothing like chocolate.

Chocolate for my cache
(a bag full)
on October 31
and Scarlet in her blue windbreaker.

Water towers reach high up
(and so did I)
behind her head for a hand
of fine blonde hair.

Oak trees all around the silver thing
with graffiti all over,
our name up there somewhere,
but the aroma of rotting leaves…

Pages

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