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

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.

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.

 

TIES THAT BIND

He was just here
with those hazel eyes
drawing me into a place
love defined

Maybe I was on a dark road
at the time
and he gave me
some light and protection
against loneliness and the impact
of destiny

He understood me for who and what I am
and much more than passion can find
a way to bind -
I was trapped by his humanity...

7 November, '10

WINTER'S SONG

.

Just beyond the end of autumn
I hear the winter's call
and he arrives to slay the leaves
which, stubborn, clung through fall.

The land once green and full of life
has now grown cold and sere
and harvest's colors once so rife
no longer are seen here.

As white and silver cloak descends
to cover silent frozen land
air turns cold as all warmth ends
and quietens all at hand.

Defeat

Child on horseback
Won’t you come for me?
Mother by morning
Won’t you cry for me?
Cause I am so tired of being strong
And I am so sick of being wrong
That I will refuse to breath

Sun on my shoulders
Won’t you burn me?
Moon calm the violent seas
Won’t you drown me?
Cause I am so tired of being afraid
And I am so sick of riding the waves
So I will refuse to speak

LIMITED

My knees hurt so much today
I decided home I'd stay
And watch the autumn sun so bright
journey from the dawn to night

The sky is not all pure and blue
within it fluffy puffballs grew
morphing as they drifted past
outpacing shadows that they cast

Between the earth and drifting cloud
flocks in migration cry out loud
as they sojourn to southern lands
in large flocks or scattered bands

Dynamics Of Me

.
I am a still life
...like a bowl of fruit
...or flowers in array

nothing unsettling
or startling
nothing to turn from
or linger upon

timeless
...of yesterday
...or a thousand yesterdays past

changes percieved
glance to glance
derive solely from
the commotion within yourself

I am still
I am fixed

quietly afloat in that which is eternal

youngest gal! then two years ago...since grown

youngest gal!
you are very young
exquisitely beautiful
charming!

guys and gals
you‘ll be alarming
as they will be desiring....

take great care
be totally aware
Internet is actually dicey!
life is pricey

guys want that only
what by now you
ought to know
hopefully!

so take care
my youngest friend
before you meet
a premature
towards the end!

Someday This Gonna' make Sense

after a busy day, i broke free by the riverside..
watching the lilies taken by the flow,
to the far diverging end form my sight,
a tiny sight i'm a fool to know..

my eyes flew back to that rare-taken.. highway,
where a mobile came to pass then and now gone
how may ways are there along the way?
to realize my goliath dream to be her one..

will she ever dare to catch me down?
or will always see me as a bitter clown?
will be chilled up by the sense of doubt,
nah, i wish i would never fall off the ground..

her hands

her hands

of finest stuff
of nature, her hands
are wrought --
to shine
the world a brighter
globe
set amidst the stars --

her hands do sing
and dance in mortal
air -- but have transparency
that is eternal

their loveliness -- their
beauty --
their slender elegance
I wish gracefully to
hold in mine --

and feel a moment of
eternity they possess
without effort.

untitled

I'm walking out the door,
to head south bound
down the interstate
Into an old home
where it all gravitates
It's just an old cave
With all the writings on the walls:
a past, their present, had no future
It's my Yuman paradise
But what the fuck is all of this?
Some folded cloth?
A broken vase?
A clay covered casket couldn't say more
My legs crooked like a heart
that could belong to anyone
The chief is lying on the floor,
his blood is in on trade,

missing footsteps

Two things never disappoint.
With unconditional love
even when you make mistakes
they soothe the soul with a touch, look, hug
that can heal the aches.

And because they are innocence
the universe allows the loan
of power usually only granted the gods
to wrest and twist a smile from a frown.
Young children and old dogs.

Two things from my past world I miss.
Two different types of feet.
Two two-legged forever following me
and a set of four bounding behind to the beat
of tail-wagging, tongue-hanging glee.

Pages

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