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Description: Write a poem to your childhood self. 12 to 32 lines written in rhyme or free verse .

Contest Link

Create your poem here.

About Contests

Winner may advance to the final contest in January 2023

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.



Tonight let my mind free
to wander beyond eternity
collect sweet nectar
from bees
aliens maybe
beyond the distant dusking horizon
twilight of my life
be the birth
of another awesome morn
across wild oceans
where man with humanity
seeks to meet
as the sunrise at dawn tweets
newer born
twilight is once again torn
so let me be the harbinger of peace
for all humanity
trace my footsteps upon times domain
to show light to a candle
living darkness

My Dog

Fearless is it
Strong and mighty in action
When fed well
It ready to strike any danger at sight.

I call it my companion
As It is closer than a brother
And ready to protect than armouries.

My dog so agile and fearful to frinemy
I know my dog
And my dog knows me.



Vacant house,

wafting in the air of its wormwood,
managing a stand in its
clapboard clothes,
the brown door open in the rush
of moments it opened,

a man
standing on the worn floor,
a shining of hardware,
a wink,
a handful of pocket,

a snowing of blossoms
just outside.


Where the hell has "He Man" gone
and why can't I fart in bed?

All true men are incarcerated
trapped on a clitoral plane,
where knee jerk reactions
drives a man insane

We all wear pink pyjamas
frilly knickers and a bra,
wear our hair in pig tails
shave our gonads --- YAY, HURRAH !!

They feed us up on Retinol
give us Optrex for our eyes,
provide the silken stockings
denier thirty--- OHH, NICE THIGHS !!

So, where the hell has "He Man gone
and why can't I fart in bed?

Mother (Part 2:)

The time of your existence was a succour
to us all.
Every assistance we needed always came through you.

Now you're no more with us here to reveal us the way forward.
Your absence had defrauded us the joy of our hearts.

For so long our memories always haunts us day and night.
We need your presence at least once in a while.

We need you to talk to us how your journey had been.
Since you took the part of all flesh - a vacuum had been created.

A Little Nostalgia

Many years ago, down old Harriet Lane
No remains of a nonesuch
Pathfinders lost their way
Didn’t live to be a legend

Harriet lane has had her day
Signs taken down and that road is closed
Went overtime and couldn’t stay well beyond the welcome
Pioneers did pave the way now its just a dead end

Mystery and no last page
Never see the like again
Once upon a golden age
Last alive down Harriet Lane


the sun is one of gods eyes eyes that perceive and create light at the same
time fireflies do that like some animals can see in the dark or like flashlights
the luminous fish eyes at the bottom of the ocean
god like a movie director or a play no distinction between light and dark
clouds are part of gods brain on a cloudy day god is sleeping when the sun appears god s waking up the world we live in is gods reality and dream
thast why some of our experiences are real and not real or surreal


My father knew his knots and splices, and
how to wind a hose in even loops without a kink.
These were skills he learned in boot camp, before
shipping out across the often fatal seas. Now,
with a house, a car, two kids, and a dreamboat

wife–Saturdays would find him on the roof, painting
the hatch with red lead, or out front, rotating the tires
of the turquoise Biscayne, teaching me the criss-cross
pattern. I was soon condemned to tend the lawn, with
that infernal push-reel mower; while mom, squatting


To have a sphere of friends
In high orbit, above, around
Like satellites in good repair
With clear sight lines to the ground
Send them signals, they bounce back
Invisible and without sound
Moves me at the speed of light
To a place where I am found


First kiss
lips are divine
they are fine
but none on earth
can sweet lips
of my kind
ever find

I wear no mask
(pre COVID)
for I love my task
just kiss me
like a fairy' don't ask
how nectar flows
from lips to lips
it just like Niagara

this kiss was lovely
didn’t you feel it

a then 2010
new be Neo’s kiss
absolutely free
no one took it

is an add on comment


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