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.


Community News

April Contest Announcement

This month's contest asks the members to post their best poem from your history on Neopoet.
Maximum amount of lines is 24.
Go dig in and don't forget to have fun doing it.
Stay safe in these tough times.
Select the proper contest!

March Contest Winner

Congratulations to the winner: Miserably Happy
Please visit the winning poem here:

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

Bright Side Chat with c lynn brooks

Come into Chat, mix and mingle with your host, c lynn brooks from 3 PM to 4 PM EDT, Tuesday through Friday during the week of 4-5-2020.
The topics will be open, and on the bright side as we deal with the existing world wide dilemma.
Grab a snack and a friend and come on in.

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

The stream (all workshops)

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


Fire Engine Blues

The Child I once was and knew so well
Has faded into a hardened shell

I won and lost a battle here and there
But yet, the war it rages everywhere

My wisdom do earn, and then over rate it
And yet, still others will debate it

Faithful trust, just turned into dust
Life was de-veined, derailed, just a bust

I must, I must, I must
Postponed and deflated

Under rated 'twas some other's fate
I entered into life; a little less, then late

sorry Louise

Dammit you know they have not yet arrived.
It’s still only Louise and me I stress.
The selfish bitch won’t advise the triad
where I have moved to and my new address.
And all day all I do is think in rhyme.
There’s no-one here to counter-act her style
Louise just gets her way now all the time.
I give her a damn inch she takes a mile.
But just as I’m about to do her in
I look back at what we have been writing.
Something we’ve done catches my attention.
With Louise I am no longer fighting.

Welcoming The Hunter

Reaching finally the tired end
of journey home from work, I stepped into
the sudden silence of the empty driveway
from the heated warmth of car,
and shivered at the crisp cold weight
of darkness gathered round the crunch
of gravel at my weary feet.

Agony's Fortress

On this road that I travel
Hardship is no stranger
Taunting thoughts
My racing mind

Agony opened her doors
Tired from the travels
I was lured into her mansion

Throughout her palace
I could hear voices
Of unforgiving sins
conversing maliciously
As if I wasn’t in the room


Maragaret Ann Waddicor. 14th October 2010.

Crossed twigs, cracked limbs,
a nose protruding, granite mossed
sarcophagus lid, stark Winter's drought,
spilt seed pods black, antler shapes,
bones brittle, broken, bleached,
brown leaves, layered maps,
the season's robbing sap.

Bleating streams scream,
cleaned out frosted roots,
bleeding reds of fallen beasts,
scoured lake, blank face paled,
impaled bark, feathered fringes faded.



my beauty,

tear it apart,
torture me in Love’s tempest,
expunge my heart.

this way of Being,
no form, no shape, no Art,
piece me back together,
a new creation’s start

my arrogance,
smash this pedestal of pride
dismantle my mainframe,
leave shame nowhere to hide.

in the Ugliness
of deeper, darker, longer
thrash me to enthrallment,
Samson, only stronger.


A huge old barn sitting alone
overgrown fields all around
its foundation made of local stone
with hand-hewed framework that's still sound.

The once red roof now rusty brown
with faded "See Rock City " white.
One rolling door has fallen down
the other is leaning toward the right.

All the siding's bare and gray
save peeling red beneath the eaves
betraying a well kept yesterday
now dilapidation, no one grieves.

old feather

white dove feather
fell to sand

small wind gathered surf,
spraying faces
assembled there

clock ticked twice
died --
no more time

white dove feather
fell to sand
sun illumined
it fell

surf touched it
sand caressed it
ocean swallowed it

dove flew on --
old feather

Impressions From A Distance

rock stars
a silly mess of men, by in large

high strung
daredevils of emotional expression
...and tantrums

actors and comedians
hyper-active look-at-me-look-at-me's

strangly aloof
apparently trying to stay afloat
even when not a'dance

I have nothing to say of them
though I'll venture to guess
they are as flakey as the rest

and now,
for the last act of the show...

forks in the road

As I stumble across
the forgotten fork in the road
emotion threatens to overwhelm me.
Five friends long ago
we lost in that collision
my first real taste of things not to be.

And I remember how everyone said
(with after sight’s twenty-twenty vision)
if they’d taken the right instead of the left
just made a different decision
or had perhaps been ten seconds earlier or later
they’d still be alive today....


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