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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

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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.

This week the Neopoem is

 

Poetic Creations by Mark

 

Let us congratulate Mark on his latest contest win.

This week the Neopoem is

 

there you are by  leoferaco

 

Let us congratulate leoferaco on his latest achievement.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Blackbird

Hey, Blackbird! Do you finally get the gist?
Are you ready to cut your wrist?
Or do you still think you're in control?

I'm sorry. But, it's too late to say you're missed.
Remember when we finally kissed?
Oh! How we thought we'd made the roll!

Let's face it. You'll forever be on my list.
I did enjoy our little tryst...
...."to continue" is what I wished, and missed.

One Day - Edited

Looking up at the autumn sky
peeking out behind the trees,
whose amber leaves looked even more brilliant
with the sun shining through them,
and I remembered a day like today.

A day where the air was crisp and cool
and filled our lungs with a freshness
that wasn't always there.
And I walked the trails with that one boy,
our shoulders lightly brushing against one another,
smiling to ourselves
as our friends raced around us.

Life That Leaves

A crooked smile upon my face,
I hear the water running.
You said the bathtub was dirty,
with Comet in your hand,
you scrubbed and scoured,
you plunged the drain.

Earlier I had asked you if you
wanted to hear my poetry,
but you said you weren't awake
enough yet.

Funny how these things happen
to poets,
to lovers,
and life
that leaves page after page
of discretion.

Once upon a time, I would have
loved the bathtub clean.
You can't have every thing it seems.

Poetic Tsunami,

Poetic Tsunami,

O V E R K A S T

Dry droll the roll
the dreams are fallen off
the bed

and its time to wake the moll
slip her into pin stripe slacks
and get her moving
back on track

the shoes need shinning
waiting where they lay
tipped against the trimwork
of the hall

she runs a work of preparation
and we ration the goodwill
down the steps and at
the lights we part
behind the dark glasses
that hide our bleary sanity

God shall protect us
for he looks after all
drunks and fools

Hermetic

thought is as the wide endless firmament
the anima of void

creation as the clouds
formulating and dissipating throughout forever
painting sorrows and joys

i think therefore i am
existing in perpetuum within my own thought -
my own heaven or hell

and throughout the boundless empyrean of ideation
in this billowing vapour that is elapsing illusion
my spirit has free reign

but, no matter where the now
as the clouds cannot mark nor taint the sky
so, too, nothing manifested can stain my soul

MOTIVATIONS OF PERSONALITIES

Dreamers dream
In hopes that they will
Come true.

Schemers scheme
In hopes that they will
Manipulate.

Seekers seek
In hopes that they will
Find.

Gamblers gamble
In hopes that they will
Win

Thinkers think
In hopes that they will
Discover.

Cheaters cheat
In hopes that they will
Prosper.

Writers write
In hopes that they will
Reveal themselves.

Painters paint
In hopes that they will
give vision.

Surfing Life's Waves ( Constructive Feedback Workshop)

It's time to surf the thoughtful waves of life,
and bravely dive into its seven seas.
The fear that rising waters wash in strife,
would fleetly pass when gently laid in ease.

Then free yourself from strains upon the shores.
Once tired, anchor, give those bones a rest,
and lightly soothe the wrecks of heavy chores,
for hard is life, so get from it, its best.

After the shipwreck

Near the sea shore I stood alone,
with no one within a mile or more,
Looking at the sun sinking down,
Trying to hide in the depths of the sea.

The golden sand and the reddish sea,
Appeared to me quite heavenly.

Then I can hear the sea murmurs,
Calling me towards her.

Her tides crawl near the shore
To swallow the land more and more.

Now I walk alone to find a home,
Somewhere in this sandy sea shore.

I don't know whether I will live anymore,

Once you all switch to Free verse things will get worse

Once you all switch to Free verse things will get worse
a curse
Loved has made all forget
what was poetry and verse
and
the best critique we all know,
will my cruci-fixation rehearse
ere that happens,
guys go back to your archaicity
and
leave my precious verse
to and for me...
I must thank thee
if you want to see
the bard survive in me...

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