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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

BRAZENED TRUTH

Submitted by lovedly on Sun, 2019-02-10 11:11

(The brazened truth is like awakening of Buddha
when enlightenment came his way
Tonight it came my way
the awareness comes from within)

Brazened Truth

dream not of me
dream not of me
in the evening of darkness
as I step into the forest of unknown shadows
as I step inside
don't follow me
ere the shadows envelop thee

and as in the stars and a moonlit night
the shadows lengthen
let darkness see its end
move on into the inner stretches unknown
in the eerie night the sounds of wild

POLITE TRICKS (February Contest)

Submitted by Drey Hommies on Sat, 2019-02-09 15:52

Politics;
politricks,
Polite Tricks,
People 'Demon-Strating'
Persecution.

Why do you offer umbrellas in a thunderbolt?

Democracy is the more crazy.
Advanced Polite Corruption.
When did brooms sweep stones?

Youths priced out of conscience
setting fire to their father's hut.
It is sad that
these ignorant ELECT-trickcians
decide the fate of all
as we push the 'VOLTS-IN' to
ballot boxes
we will be electrocuted
and killed
Against our will.

Valentine Participation younger ones no PRIZE

Submitted by lovedly on Sat, 2019-02-09 02:13

@21 on FEB 14
COMPOSE A POEM ON
VALENTINE

I am now late in my shell being
shall define my long time
VALENTINE

Now only Love
is mine

Grumpy Old Man (February Contest)

Submitted by Sparrow on Fri, 2019-02-08 19:44

It looks to them that nothing is wrong
That’s what they say to me, each day long
Do I hate them for their lack of feeling?
Or shall I limp away to stop the tingling.

I know why I sit very still in my chair
It looks to them, that nothing is wrong
It stops the pain if I just rest, and do not move
What do they know when I sleep and snore.

Sleep is a blessing it stops things, nothing more.
Even dreams of being young don’t even the score
It looks to them that nothing is wrong.
The reaper beckons he knows I am sore.

it's been a long time

Submitted by Barbara Writes on Fri, 2019-02-08 18:24

it's been a long time since i had a laptop
i prefered my iphone and my ipad a lot
to surf the web and social media game.

my best days was learning windows 95
and bug fixes on the millennial side
the windows everybody loved to hate.

i loved windows, it was my entry to the computer
me and microsoft had an affair like no other
from 2007 i've courted Apple's iOS platform to date.

Today

Submitted by chevyvent on Thu, 2019-02-07 14:10

for the day I ignite those even tears to calm all fears along heaven's shore
to think along Willow's Peak a calm to think a fellow preached love's lost
my mind is clearer now minus the frown stay vacant to its call the know it all
search within captivated by a smile state the ignite beloww its smell a vault
there is sweet fragrance bellow its fragrance I time well spent in thought

I DID NOT CHANGE, BUT LIVED

Submitted by Drey Hommies on Thu, 2019-02-07 11:03

Lilith handed mother a tasty apple
That pleases like tongue on this shooting nipple
And though through thorns and thistle and tares I rived
I did not change, but lived!

I couldn't cut through the clouds called 'horizon'
Only bitter eyes of frumpy kids that run
Whose parents fell in the lasting wars aggrieved
I did not change, but lived!

From devout Alter boy to God terminator
From fragile fearful fan to valiant gladiator
From sad sulking school boy society disbelieved
I did not change, but lived!

The Owl's Question

Submitted by gregwa8 on Wed, 2019-02-06 02:45

Nature blesses us everyday.
With roses and radishes
And red skies
At night.

Though everything happens
In its time,

The corn in in April
And the double-edged
sickle
The whisper of assimilation
Come fall

It is more like a billiards game
Than a simple
Stitched baseball
That travels in just one line

The owl with many feathers
And pirouetting neck
Cries
In every direction

Who? Who? Who?

Who will plant?
Who will buy?
Who will transport?

IT WAS A DREAM

Submitted by Drey Hommies on Tue, 2019-02-05 01:22

Eleven virgins grind on my cork,
Twenty-one fat asses twerk and rock.
Something moist and warm above
Helpless in tits held captive
Suddenly, a debtors life hears knock!

My Lucky Coin

Submitted by gregwa8 on Mon, 2019-02-04 21:00

I left my lucky coin
In my pocket
When it went through the dryer
Last night

And it charted the stars
On each rebound
Against the moving cylinder
The metallic sound
Like the hammering
Of light
Through darkness

I didn’t stop the machine
I leaned in
And listened
To that moving body
My luck
On its seemingly erratic
Geometrical course
Creating
Starlight
Starlight
STARLIGHT

When I opened the dryer
To put my clothes
In the laundry basket

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