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Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Mon, 2024-04-29 23:58

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.

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/21/24 to 04/27/24 Contest Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-27 23:40

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.

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-20 14:53

This week the Neopoem is

 

Poetic Creations by Mark

 

Let us congratulate Mark on his latest contest win.

Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-13 21:46

This week the Neopoem is

 

there you are by  leoferaco

 

Let us congratulate leoferaco on his latest achievement.

20 April Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!
13 April Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24
6 April Neopoet Weekly 03/31/24 to 04/06/24 Winner!
31 March March 2024 Contest Winners!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

My Insanity

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Wed, 2012-05-09 18:39

I gave my thoughts names, does that make me wierd
If it does well my pen should be sedated
And my mind should be under psychiatric care

Aren’t we all children of insanity? Well I know that I am
No sane man puts his weaknesses out so carelessly
A real mad man hides in an artificial cosmos
Led by monotony and the stench of death

We love and we hurt as if emotions were dice
Don’t get me started on politicans
All their good at is shaking hands and getting nominated
And you sit back silently, now that is insanity

His Paint Mixes with Your Tears

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Wed, 2012-05-09 06:18

It comes like this
like the rain.
You are a cloud
bursting through
your mind,
the earth welcomes
you sometimes
and breaks its own monotony
of dust and dirt,
life abides.

A yellow bus rolls by, filled
with daffodils and sunflowers.
There's another
story you must tell. Another poem
begs to be written and your
mouth is watering for words and you notice
rain falling on the street.
Deeply immersed in the
chaos of your heart, you live.

Call me ..I'll Heed

Submitted by Rula on Wed, 2012-05-09 01:32

Call me the olive tree,
or the weeping willow.
In the core of the heart
dwells a deep sorrow.

They've uprooted me,
and left me lifeless.
No one to love or live with,
I am restlessly homeless.

I have nothing to live on
promises are all what I'm fed.
Nothing to drink but,
the blood that they've shed.

Numbness is killing my limbs.
my roots are growing old.
In the UN fridges I'm frozen,
with all the lies that are being told.

SECRET EDEN

Submitted by scribbler on Tue, 2012-05-08 20:21

Plodding a summer hardwood hollow
with sweat-drenched brow and aching knee
any trail's too dim to follow
in midst of dense humidity

In claustrophobic world of green
enclosed by solid canopy of leaves
barely stirred by breeze unseen
the only wind a mere faint tease

A cloud of gnats all seek my eyes
kindred mosquitos want my blood
and there's a tic, no great suprise
I'm lost in an insectile flood

Sing a Song that's Blue

Submitted by docmaverick on Tue, 2012-05-08 17:06

double-up dichondra turf
seeds that sow the same,

out of them the other one
is callin' out the game.

back off in the summertime
the wintertime is nigh,

gonna keep on lovin' you
until the day I die.

sing a song of joyfullness
sing a song that's true,
sing a song that celebrates
bein' me, and bein' you.

stop runnin' 'round in circles
open up your heart,

if you're to love yourself
lovin' others has to start.

I’m off

Submitted by judyanne on Tue, 2012-05-08 16:17

you drift through life in semi-dark
for you it's a half empty glass
complaining is your trade and mark
it brings me down, your odd morass

for you it's a half empty glass
the world presents in sad, dull hue
and others all have greener grass
that is, according unto you

complaining is your trade and mark
you say, for you, diddly-squat goes right
with not a positive remark
for anything that greets your sight

Masterpiece

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Tue, 2012-05-08 15:49

if these tears had a voice
They would be pleading to leave
If this emptiness had an address
I would send joy as a house warming gift

If only time could hear
I would tell it to take the day off
By chance, if a smile appeared
I would make my home its palace

We cry as if no one judges
Speak like orators of ancient times
Smile as if we replaced the sun

We are free like the birds overhead
Embedded with the soul of poets
And never bury the dream
That waits to be a masterpiece

One Day

Submitted by AnnaNJ on Tue, 2012-05-08 14:58

It was autumn
and the air was crisp and cool.
I remember walking the trails
with the boy I liked
and he liked me
and that's all that mattered to me then.

We were all running down hill
kicking up sand behind us
laughing and tripping
and thinking of nothing
but the moment we were in.

If I had known of what was ahead
I would have cherished every second
instead of thinking of the sand in my hair
and the cold wind
blowing through my jacket.

FLYING OLD DAMN IT. Ann-knit.

Submitted by Nordic cloud on Tue, 2012-05-08 12:50

I'll catch a million stars, and put them in my cheeks, breeks,
sneakers, let their powerful light, fire me up into the air
where gravity is gone, and there I'll dance a little while
and listen to your song,
as sing I know you can, so I'm not wrong.

And then I'll take a comet, and race around the world,
they'll wonder what on earth, in heaven has occurred,
a wild old fashioned lady in long skirts is quite unfurled
and is speeding at the speed of light oh how absurd.

Feast of an Apple Bite

Submitted by WonderGolly on Tue, 2012-05-08 11:26

Asked by them that shaped him
Out of the clay of a garden,
To dream big beyond the spheres and stars
All he dreamt of left him with eternal scars
For after partaking in a feast of a single apple bite
Whiles romancing an enchantress under a strange fig tree
Paradise mightiest cast him out of sight
To savour the harshness throes of the night
In a world that welcomed him warmly
With a cloak woven from his own curses.

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