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Community News

September 2020 Contest Announcement!

This month our subject is personifying where you live in either present time or in the past. Poem must be between 12 to 32 lines and written in any style. Come show us where you are from and it's personality. Best of luck to all our contestants. Please click below to learn more about this contest.

August 2020 Contest Winner

Congratulations to the winner: Eumolpus
Please visit the winning poem here:

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

August 2020 Contest Announcement

Tell us about your expirience during this pandemic
Poem can range from 12 to 32 lines. Written in any style
For more information please visit:

Remember to have fun and good luck to all contestants!

July 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.

The stream (all workshops)

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


" Missing you "

Waking up feels robotic
Each of my rigid movements synchronized
With the ticking time bomb in my head
Ready to go off with each thought of you that
passes through my brain

I sleep and dream, long and hard
Hoping that when i wake
I'll hear your melodious voice ringing through my ears,
so soft yet firm

Because ive had enough of missing you

I feel like a puzzle missing a piece
like a piece of paper but just a sheet
the start of a sentence....
Just incomplete

Sonnet 39

I sent away the fickle muses’ horse
That took up space in my cerebral stall,
Then thanked the ladies for their time, of course,
Gave notice not to be at beck’n call;
Returned that goose’s inky feather quill
With which I wrote some rhymes and sonnets, too,
But I am not that ancient Shakespeare Will
In Tudor clothing and fine buckled shoe.
Winged Pegasus, here is your pound of grain,
No longer will you feel my spur or rein,
Nor shall I write in pain without much gain;
Be off to northern skies, but leave this brain

The Golden Tear Of Fall

A golden leaf falls to the ground,
As she, the tree, now sheds a tear;
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound

A lifeless frond, crisp and browned
No longer green this time of year;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.

With tumult blowing all around
The leafy laden atmosphere,
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.

Then gently floating downward bound
Rustic, wrinkled, disheveled, sear;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.

"Sonnet Zero "

Singing lines, lots of rhythm
four quatrains
and one couplet of tea

how to write a great sonnet
don't listen to advice
Shakespeare didn't

he woke one day
and decided to be
or not to be a poet…

Oblivion in Recession

The legs started going,
kept awake with water,
arrogantly telling myself
I’d stay straight.
Drank gin and wine,
went out,
tried to buy more,
filthy white shorts,
lost, rolling on lawn,
somehow got home.
Monday, waiting for offie,
looked like death,
fear in eyes
of passers-by,
waiting for drink,
drink relieved me.
drank all day,
next day,
double brandy
just about settled me,
drank some more,
thought constantly
I’d collapse;

The night

The night, It stretches,
Across the sky, a blanket,
An Abyss of endless darkness.

Pricks of light puncture the black,
Stars, they are called.
Small, but majestic.

I, we, us,
Insignificant beings,
Under this void.

Time, it passes,
It is never and now,
It is nowhere and everywhere

Even so, we stay,
On this ground,
We are calm.


I've never ever thought
of another
but this Earth
so many teach me
how I still live
in a FOOL'S
when all others believe in one
Geez has given me up as a
foolish one

hope to hear from you all
throw your dice will you
I shall then feel the pulse of your

as I am preparing to fly
the rainbow you say
I can't now see
SANS Shakespeare
now he's calling me


The sovereignty of ownership
and a tale of lies
outweighs the council of friendslip
is a word to the wise

Chances are that gambling
involves a coming clean
take off the stealthy ring
Gollum's journey to be seen

The Happy Orphanage

Down at the orphanage it's celebration time
They're having a party, a real good time.
All the kiddies are frolicking gaily
As they get their cod liver oil daily
Queuing for the toilets to take their turn crapping
Listen to those metal doors all a-flapping.
They're as cheery as a snowman on the 1st of May,
As happy as a lonely bastard on Father's Day.

Journey to Paradise

Tired bird, Darling bird
Spread your wings wide

Let your feathers kiss the sky
no direction to any where
You'll find your destination
come what may

Fly, my darling , fly
over the hills and the sea of sunflowers

Under the bridge
where the old steam trains pass

When you meet the great North Sea
take your bow and say good night

Forceful winds that carry you
high and low within soft cotton cloud

Make your journey a joyful sight
see the world with open eyes


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