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Community News

Election Results

We would like to cordially welcome the new members of the 23rd Advocate Election Committee:

Paul, AC Chair

And, in alphabetical order:

Keith Logan

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.



I need a new computer chair
or else not spend so much time there.
My butt has destroyed all this ones pad
a result that only can be bad.

Plus this old one has no arms
and it's sans both style and charms.
It doesn't even glide or rock.
I'll bet that comes as quite a shock.

When I sit in it long enough
to arise is really tough.
Perhaps I need one with a lift,
what a thought for birthday gift.

If Only

Only In Dreams
On a butterfly's wings

I walked in dreams
Feet swallowed
Dust rising all around
Colours crowded

Beauty beyond
My scope impeded
Reeling senses
Silent words

Amazing space
Eyes extending
Drinking with sighs
Memory failed

Where am I??
Ridges of black
as walls confine me
a landscape flows

Rainbow’s rise
as autumn leaves
a quiet symphony
Fields only felt


I'm all for the return of the old “God”
The one of the Old Testament
The one that demands an eye for an eye
Tooth for tooth

These terrorist-bastards
They think that they are going to
Sweet, innocent virgins in the after-life
I say; send them to it
By tenderizing their testicles
With hammers

That namby-bamby Jesus!
Turn the other cheek
I want to behead them
With a dull steak-knife

I Owe You So Much, Dad

I made it to the majors, dad,
The big leagues, the show.
And I just want you to know
That I owe you so much for helping me fulfill my dream.
For coaching my team.
For helping me when times got tough
And all I wanted to do was just give up.
For telling me to get back on my feet
When all I wanted to do was concede defeat.
I made it to the majors, dad,
Because you taught me to give it all I had.
I'm going to dedicate my first homer to you.
Without you, I could not have made it through.

Glory of Greece (Travelogue)

Glory of Greece (Travelogue)

Infinite heaven reaches across
the Aegean sea; scant clouds
seed the purplish-blue sky.

Gods of Greece long ago
abandoned their crumbling halls
to wander among carob trees;
Daphne herself weaves
the wreath that crowns Pluto
as the ultimate victor.

The ancients walk in shadows
while dusty dreams drape fallen Doric
columns and hush visitors into stark silence
heard by weathered temple statues.

Flight of Fancy

Here comes the train
I've so-long/longed for
Pulling into the platform
The captain says
All aboard

It seems there's
No one else here but me

The captain is trying to hurry me on,
(My willingness is cleverly known)

But which carriage do I board
Many to choose from
The choice is broad

Carriage of thoughts,
Guilt, love and desire
(Maybe all carriages will never expire)

The final call
Come forward
Come forward

The captain whistles

Myth of the mantis

Praying mantis smiles at me
when she crushes open

Wings of time, and neon rainbows
open skies, it is for Life, She cries

Murmering "murder" singing dark
mantras of Love , woven around
Her deep undying heart

Luscious tones awaken
Her serpentine tongue slithering
From bone, to bone, sliding
across the spinal chord

I am Her prey

Our captain desires

No need for any poet
to justify

some swings creek
if rusted
music ensues

some are oiled
and soft
birds sing
all love
the poetic muse

never change your gait
just coz
I don't like to see you
at my gate

come and swing
in the garden of Paris
and say
Captain swings anywhere
any way

be happy and gay
now let's swing
ance as you may

A Pensive Platform

Here I sit
Stilted again
Weathered and worn bag
Still heavy in hand

The seat that I sit on
Is comfortably stiff
Many before me have
Sat here, I guess

The view from this seat
Is misty with rain
Through the grey paddocks
My eyes constantly scan

Distance is short
Lived from afar
Oh, now I'm listening hard.
Just as I thought
Here comes the train.


sagging chain link
rusted auto shells
the valley of feral cats

afternoons of haze
climbing hills scorched
into orange
foliage and dry winds
palms sailing tethered
to the curb

ventures to the sea
to bath cavort and
frolic free
carefree ribbed
skinny knees
who cared about
the darkness creeping
like vines
stubble of the cell tower
over view of the glow
blotting out the stars
and the rumble of the
thousand cars


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