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April 2024 Contest Winners

Congratulations to our April 2024 contest winners!

Spring Fling  was won by Carrie with the poem Spring Fling

04/24 I Was An April Fool was won by Geezer with the poem Fooled Again...

04/24 Waiting In Line was won by  Mary Beth Magee  with the poem The Last Time

04/24 Are We There Yet?  Was won by Rula with the poem We're Almost There For It

04/24 My Favorite Cookie was won by Leslie with the poem After school treat!

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Vote for this month’s image prompt contest winner

Voting ends May 6th 2024.

Vote at the end of this newsletter.

 

Backwards

By: Carrie

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

G
I wanna fly a kite
A
At night instead of day,
C
I wanna drive a big old truck
D
The opposite way
G
I wanna laugh when I’m sad,
C
And cry when I’m happy and gay
D A
I wanna do what no one’s done
G
Any other day.

G
I wanna wear all my clothes
A
Wear em all inside out,

C
I wanna be real quiet,
D
When everybody else wants to shout
G
I wanna see the stars
C
When everybody else sees the sun
D
I want my day to end
C G
When everybody else’s has begun.

C D
Wouldn’t it be weird, wouldn’t it be funny and strange
A
If everyone thought like this,
G
Slightly deranged.

 

 

Lost Love

By: Alex Tanner

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

For fleeting months we tarried,
Each time we met we knew
This may be the last time
For lovers hours are few.

If I love ten thousand women
Tis you I will recall;
You gave yourself so willing,
For your passion I did fall.

On black nights as the wind howls,
As I lie in a bed so cold,
Your soft voice echoes 'cross the years
To warm my lonely soul.

                                                                                                                                         

Vote Here

Thank you for your participation.

This week the Neopoem is

 

 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on his first contest win as a neopoet member.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

The fall off ( part 1)

As the leaves turn to gold
And the summer warmth fades away
The world begins to unfold
In a stunning display
The air becomes crisp
And the sky starts to change
As the fall takes its grip
Everything feels rearranged
The trees once so green
Now wear coats of red and orange
A sight to be seen
A transformation so strange
The sun sets earlier
And rises later each day
The nights grow colder
But somehow it's okay
For with the fall comes a beauty
A magical kind of grace

The same prevalent path

Forever falling
down the
same appalling
path . pathed
in passion
pinched with pain
ruefully wrapped
in rage . Still
Relentlessly rowing
through its
enraging river
of wrath .

Detailing delicate defecation debacle

Otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.

Best Seller

"Are you reading a book?", asked Piglet.

"In a way.", said Pooh. "It's my diary. I fill it with poetry."

"Am I in it?", asked Piglet.

"Yes you are.", said Pooh with a smile.
"My friends and family are my favorite chapters."

A fool am I

Without your touch
and loving smile
your sweet embrace
and haunting eyes
a tender kiss
upon your thigh
the darkened night
moves madly by
your deepest secret
no longer mine
torn in two
a fool am I
the harvest moon
no longer shines
across the night's
forbidden sky
For you my love
were never mine
release my heart
put out the fire!

AWAKENINGS

In darkened room somnolent she lies
while high above the horned moon
cast dim shadows cross the night.

So now she sleeps.
how soft she breaths,
no movement yet, she could be dead.

But winter closes, snows thaw then flow.
Earth warms, she moves,
her time has come.

Languid, stretches limbs;
She sighs, she smiles,
another year.

She stands a tip toe a ballerina fair,
looks on her world,
bestows new life.

My Favorite Cookie

A delicious taste of the
oatmeal raisin cookie
intrigue as a favorite kind
indulge in a hungry craving
for a sweet tooth of desire
from a grandma’s baking
permeate kitchen stage
fills with emotional display
that comes with a wide
an array of special
made for a guest's visit
A cup of chocolate milk
given add to a perfect match
for the lunch snack treat
at the spending moment
It embraces the heart with joy
elated smile put on a face
a lullaby song to play

Without You

"Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass..."
~ William Wordsworth

The trees have blossoms
of pastel bangles and lace ribbons.
I am lying within the splendour in the grass,
surrounded by naive hyacinth and lily of the valley.
A yellow warbler quickens back and forth, its song
stirring the air, flirting with a jealous breeze
as the ambiance of April envelopes
me, awakening my senses.

The clouds billow along.
I am floating,
waltzing with the sun.

Still wrestling with impasse to contentment

Dispense sing with fidelity blithely agog
just me and mine dark shadow
slinking along outer limits of
the edge of night doth blog
passivity, the path
of least resistance ohm my dog,
shocking voltage amply
surges an emphatic YES,
verboten fruit adrip
with succulent juices as eggnog,

Cemetery suicide

“I dont want to die”
You say

“Im scared of death”
You say

You drone on about how you hate death and everything it brings, and why you never want to disintegrate into a heavy, cold corpse.

But you rot every day.

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