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Community News

This week the Neopoem is " A Stranger by Anna Severchuk. Congratulations to Anna on such a fine poem, To read this poem please click the link below and leave a comment.

Thank you to the Neopoem group for choosing the weekly winner.

Our seventh series of ten of this workshop is about to start. There is still room for two people to join this workshop.
If you are interested please click the following link

To see how the previous workshop transpired please click below

Neopoet Anthology Announcement!

We have decided to publish a Neopoet anthology with all the poets who have won any of our contests. We will start a contest to select the cover poem of the anthology. Join our contest by clicking the link below

The Neopoem Of The Week has been awarded to Mark for his poem "Feelings of Expressions" Congratulations to Mark on such a fine poem. To read this poem and leave a comment click on the link below. Thank you to the Neopoem Group on picking the weekly winner.

The stream (all workshops)

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



At my journey's end,
When dark and warping cold
At last could wend
Their strangling hold
Around the vacuum space
Where my poor heart
Would always race
To speeding start
Of empty faith's embrace,
I found instead
A new and different place
That inexorably led
Into belief bereft of wrath
And without sin,
Leading to another path
I could begin to tread again.


Margaret Ann Waddicor October 2010.

I'm like that-little stone in your garden,
that keeps being seen,
but you don't always see it,
sometimes you do,
as you stub your toe against it,
and wonder at the little stone,
that gets in your way,
sometimes if you look carefully she is me,
that also gets in your way now and then,
in ways you do not approve of,
too close by far,
she is only there to love you.


Fear works;
has since the earliest tribe,
the first strong voice of unreason

... but reason;
hides in secret corners,
baring greedy teeth,
slobbering success in numbers

... and the following grows.

we congregate,
allured to the heat of the crowd,
and find ourselves growling,
armed ... with mob intention.

Repetition of History
Kill the Enemy
Motivated Murder

... when will we learn?



this is the water that wore
granite down
in the merry month of may

this is the water that wore
granite down
as flowers bloomed
in merry month of may

this is water that wore
granite down
as flowers bloomed
picked by an angel in
merry month of may

this is water that wore granite
down smooth
as flowers bloomed
picked by an angel of a throng
in merry
month of may


when you need somebody to talk with,

i’ll be always here,

just as when you need someone to hold you back,

i’ll carry you with care,

when you see confusions on the road,

i’ll show you the way,

when you feel down and blue,

i’ll do brighten your day,

when you get lost in the dark,

i’ll be your light,

when you met your restlessness,

i’ll be your night,

when you met puzzles in your life,

i’ll help to play,

when you need someone to love you the most,

i am here to stay.

it's better if she doesn't know...

it's better if she doesn't know,
better keep it from than to say it all,
i felt stronger yet i always show
a big desire for an impossible....

if she knew my feelings, she might build a wall
and eventually she might hide her glow,
when on is a sight of an untimely fall,
it's always better if she doesn't know...

Hands Across the Park

The New York winter sun
has risen in your East,
and will set in my West,
for this one shortest day.
A world shrunk to a patch
of wooded arbours
where souls can meet
and find their willing flesh.

This snow-cloaked park
is all that lies between,
its crooked, spinstered trees,
naked from abandoned leaves,
are veiled and downed with
the frost-flecked confetti
of fleeting bridal relief.

Music of Lascaux

I can only hope
the first song ever sung
was a happy one

joy, wonder,
startling beauty,
and simplicity

not unlike the brillant
cave paintings of Lascaux

the Blues would soon follow
I assume
stands to reason

man is many dimensional
but immediate feelings are prime

hence, the blues

"every day, I've got the blues"

a simple statement
yet, true, I believe
to virtually all
since sentience arose

IRAQNOPHOBIA by Ziggy and Lou

I pay homage to the soldiers
who took charge ,when words failed
those who ordered the
execution of our youth.

I pay homage to soldiers
who are now departed,
A clear blue sky divides
the living from the dead.

Breathtaking sunsets creep
unfolding on to troubled horizons,
gaining ground.
Whilst those that are left cry,
" hear me lord, bring them home to me”.


My expulsion from the shackles I craved
gave his twisted desires room to devour
A seed your flower, truths buried within
the roots grip unaided beliefs.

Territorial pissing crossing the deep divide
the depravity of the cavity is where unanswered
Questions lie, the innocence of the cry
burning embers expelling the core.

That part of you I can't ignore
twas gripped and torn, familiar
Pattern sworn to secrecy yet
still I know can't let it go.


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