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Mother's Day Image Prompt Contest Winner!

This winning poem of the Mother’s Day image prompt contest is

Mum... You and I by Rula

Let us congratulate Rula on another contest win.

This week the Neopoem is

 Loving You by  hippiemoon

Let us congratulate hippiemoon on another contest win.

Neopoet Weekly 05/12/24 to 05/18/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is


Mosquitos Suck!
  By William Lynn


Congratulations to William Lynn for racking up another contest win!

Neopoet Weekly 05/05/24 to 05/11/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

Ways of loving by  Terumi Sakurai

Let us congratulate Terumi Sakurai on their first win as a neopoet member.

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The stream (all workshops)

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


Don't Mess With My Machine

I am settled in mind
of death and taxes,
and social status

a philosophical bent
has lent a helping hand
resolving these quaint issues
I know where I stand

but mess with my computer
without my consent
I go lunatic crazy
with only one way to vent

bitching and whining
like a spoiled brat
why oh why
do you keep doing that?

half a day wasted
to get it back in order
the other half spent in
recriminations spat toward her

you, the blank page

you, the blank page

I have seen you before.
you are the taunt to my titillation

never-ending white

I shall cover you with scrawl
until you are covered --

some of it may even be good

underneath it all, you are still

you, the blank page --
I do love you so

never do you complain --
even when I am vile

at anything I say
you never blink your albino eyes

quintessence of patience
you are

to be so kind to one
so unworthy of your pureness

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


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