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Community News

Chat On The Dark Side | Add Your Line To A Story

This Saturday 8 PM -5 GMT! We are having a Chat on the Darkside Story! Help us write a story!
Your Host Geezer will begin a story and each room guest will have the opportunity to add a few lines.
The finished story(s) will be edited by Geezer and published on Neopoet.
Please enter the chat room quietly as writing may be in process.
Bring a friend, bring refreshments and be prepared to have lots of fun!

Description:The contest this month offers you the golden opportunity to showcase a wonderful thing- your favorite book
Objectives:To drool over your favorite book. Work should be up to (or not much over) 36 lines. Any form
Subject matter:Your favorite book to date, any kind of book. Please post book title at the end of poem

February 2020 Contest Winner

Congratulations to the winner: C Lynn Brooks
Please visit the winning poem here:

Thank you to all participants for entering this past contest and all contests.

A sad announcement

February 19, 2020

We are deeply saddened by the passing of Jess Tapper (weirdelf). Jess was a founding member, a former member of the Board of Trustees, the first ever Neopoet AEC Chair (in addition to being an eight time AEC/AC member), and most recently, the Director of Workshops and a member of our Cabinet.

We will hold a series of events to memorialize Jess, including:

- Jess Tapper's friends on Neopoet will host a chat room on Saturday, February 22, at 7 pm Eastern (11 am on Sunday, February 23 in Sydney, Australia)

- We've opened our forum -

Andrew & Paul

Election Results (February 2020)

We would like to cordially welcome the new members of the 26th Administrative Council:

Alan S Jeeves, AC Chair

And, in alphabetical order:

c lynn brooks
Roscoe Lane

Please join us in congratulating the new AC and wishing them the best for the upcoming term.

The stream (all workshops)

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


When the party returned..

again, the sun shown
cherry blossoms everywhere
smiles were abundant
hugs, once again in fashion
cold Corona beer parties


Smiling, she whispered, “To us.”
Then we clanked tulip-shaped glasses
filled with golden Madeira, straight from that island
in the Mediterranean Sea, and I kissed lips
that bore the fruity flavor of that wine,
and I uttered “M’dear-ah,”
so quickly that those words sounded
as though I spoke of the heavenly wine;
henceforth, I’ll think of her as Madeira.

A London Dinner At The Tower Hotel

I'll pick you up outside your room,
Outside your bedroom door;
I'll thrill to see you there, abloom,
And tell you so, and more.

I'll kiss your cheek, your hand I'll take
Explaining what I see;
I'll see all it takes to make
A sunset dream for me.

You'll take my arm, I'll walk you down
To where we meet to dine;
You'll dazzle in your evening gown
As fine as sparkled wine.

Owlish Visions Night bird

Standing at the edge of rapidly moving time
all Neopoets ask me to at night rhyme .

It's time for me to be standing
on the only cliff at half past nine
will the wind blow me off like a landmine

or shall I myself need to take off
The Virus is it's siren blowing
Ha poet for you I am coming
stay tuned
fly not away
the cyclone is on its way
wait for a while
in magnificent style
time will tell
what you did bold or cowardly

the wind will be soon coming
hold on still


The parking lot is not that full
as I exit from my car
wishing I had not worn wool
as the sun warms the lot's tar.

Store's door opens automatically,
one less thing I have to touch.
Now that's peculiar thought for me.
Time for the shopping cart and such.

I grab a sanitizing wipe
to wipe the cart where hands might grasp
a more than perfunctory swipe.
Cart's left wheel squeaks like an old hasp.

requiem in silence (covd-19)

let us have a requiem in silence
for the dead and the dead to come

i do not care or will be told
which vengeful god or gods to pray to
or to what end, they always step aside
when the dark angel knocks at the castle door

yet let us sanctify the silence
death surrounds us all, so many deaths unsung
a flash of photographs posted on a wailing wall
the names of loved ones suddenly made orphaned souls

When the locust plague has overrun the crops, and the plague has torn through bodies,
when pestilence and war have had their fill.
The Italians dance on balconies and the British clap in doorways
Will there be singing still?

When we can no longer greet our neighbours
Or tightly hold our friends
Will we remember the soft touch of comfort
Will there be singing at the end?


Hazel eyes, bright smile.
Candied apple.
Sweet sweet succulence.
Collapsing from temptation.
Oh, Snow White darling.
Am I your poison apple?
Filling your body with my toxicity.
I want to know
What you have seen with your kind eyes.
The tears hidden so deep behind your radiant smile.
I want to know every inch of you,
Candied apple.

Mother Will Rise Again

We called it home, but there was no peace in it
It was only home because our hearts remained,
Home is where the feet might leave, but not the heart.

Did not father say we would bruise the serpent in the head?
But the snake always returned to sting mother's heels.
Father made too many vain promises,
Father told too many lies.

i can't wait for it to rain
i've got mary p's umbrella in my head
its sections stiff and starched and black
closed like a prude's stiff petticoat
and when the east wind flows my way
i will borrow the umbrella she set aside
closed in the corner but i'll open it wide
twirling the ribs in between the cloth
like spokes in a bicycle they spin and spin
points on rib ends like the points on her hat pins

i can't wait to get out in the rain tonight
where i will stay until daylight


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