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This week the Neopoem is Uncertain certainties by Words.unwritten. Congratulations to Words.unwritten on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly winner.

This week the Neopoem is Ephemeral Love by Dystopia. Congratulations to Dystopia on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly winner.

This week the Neopoem is Gracious Discontent by leoferaco. Congratulations to leoferaco on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem Group for selecting the weekly winner.

The stream (all workshops)

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


The Dreamscape

I have always found that
I have to reach out
To touch the dawn.
Every dreamtime moment
Is fraught with draughty memories and intermixed emotions.
Therefore I have no restful time.

I am mingling among them.
By them I mean the monstrous,
The unforgettable moments.
The angst scattered windfall times, which seek me out.
The door knocking, bell ringing,
dust banging, fist clenching
Run of the mill scenes of dread.

Love and Grief

The tears stream down his face
Puddles form.
His eyes were red and swollen
from yet another sleepless night.
He is overwhelmed,
Grief struck…
Desperate to turn back the clocks.
One more day,
One more conversation,
One more touch,
One more anything.

Quiet sobs,
Shaky breaths.


This is something so unique
what all humans and animals do
through the day and night
why you call God's mission
as SIN...

May I you remind
he post ed women and man of your kind
to seed population
till they rest for months nine

you seed the soil of the heaven's
and spread the wings of heaven
mother earth is so happy man
you are working
helping god in his duty
we are just slaves of the night

live to enjoy
play not save

The Artist (Old Soul)

I have never been to Rome
Though I feel the worn cobble stones
Sliding beneath my feet with every step
Striding time in leaps and bounds

I turn around and retrace the footprints
I see them in the distant past
Emerging from La Grotte de Lascaux
Where resides an ancient gallery

My hands remember the feel of ochre
An echo of excoriated skin revisits my fingers
As a multitude of beasts breathe and live
In the cavern’s flickering firelight

A Concrete Jungle

A Concrete Jungle

Tantalising wolves when they’re up against the wall
Is tantamount to suicide so don’t be such a fool
Desperate people go beyond arm’s length
You’ll realise, when you victimize, a wolf, you’ll feel it’s strength

Going off the beaten path, into the unknown
Testing people’s patience, glass houses and rocks thrown
You have the patience of a prince inline to be enthroned
The wolf has even less, so leave the wolf alone


Of string and wood
earth, sea, and sky
of the future, the past
the mystery of now

I touch the smooth wooden bead
between my fingers
close my eyes, bow my head
and fully reveal my heart

some call it prayer
ascending beyond my mortal veil
while flourishing from that inner depth
I understand to be my soul

there I hold you
wrapped in lovely dreams
quaint wishes, hopes, happiness
like innocence - like new light

If these were my last words

If these were my last words I would say.
It’s going to be okay. Before you go to bed make sure you pray.
Don’t make it harder on yourself. Theirs nothing wrong and don’t be afraid to ask God for help. He’s always there when you feel like their is no one else.
If these were my last words I would say.
You could do whatever you want, anything. As long as you have faith, their will be nothing stopping your way.


Your love is nourishing goodness
I felt highly and gladly satisfied
there's nothing to compare you
glancing on your sparkling eyes
has define the beauty of divinity

your skin deep is a finished line
the ingenuity of God's creation
the smell of grace is all on you
that's why I want to be with you
to stay inhaling your sweetness

Pictures in Frames

As I amble through my days
people I love are no longer here,
but they frequently return to me
in unexpected moments
The memories often repeating

These keepsakes of them
alight in my thoughts
and find purchase in a smile

Keeping them close to me
on a cold seashore in winter,
in my dark hours with hit-and-run rain,
and in pictures in frames
still telling their stories

The Lost Samurai

She walked in the garden with flowers in her hair

Sounds of melancholy strings filled the night air

The pond was full of roses that had begun to fade

In a glass case in front of her, her lost lover laid

In her eyes, cold tears fell as she began to cry

She wept over her lost love, her lost Samurai

He was struck a mighty blow while at a far war

He fought bravely but was failed by his sword

In his last moments, he could only think of her

Of her tender lips and her sweet smell of myrrh


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