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Winners - September 2023 Contests!

Congratulations  to all of last month’s winners.


Ruby Lord won the School Days contest with the poem SISTER PAULINE

Paleoray won the Neopoem Of The Week September 24th To September 30th 2023 with the poem  Symphonic Ecstasy 

Ruby Lord  won the September 2023 Challenge Meeting the grim reaper with the poem Dead or Alive

Lavender  won the September 2023 Challenge Write about being invisible with the poem Old Ford

Hon won the September 2023 Challenge Waking up in the back of a police car with the poem Waking in the back of the police seat

 Credell Simeon won the September 2023 Challenge Waiting to see the doctor with the poem Stress Relief Doctor's visit

Isabel Agatha  won the September 2023 New Member Contest with the poem drunken hiccups

Neopoet Image Prompt Contest August 2023

Clentin  won the Neopoet Image Prompt Contest August 2023 With his poem titled  Fairy Tales Remembered. Congratulations to Clentin on a job well done.

The stream (all workshops)

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


Rosh Hashshana 2023

Began at sunset
on Friday, Sept. 15,
and ends at sunset
on Sunday, Sept. 17.


If we can
see the what the future wears
Before it ripens in our hands,
Will we think to live this way or

If we could see beyond the thick veil
Of myopia roughly eating vision away
Into the place of dementia, establishing craze.
If there's no myopia, will our space be an utopia?

Myopia, the feast that weakens the sight,
Changing the wheels of everyone's dream,
No long eyeshot, no near goals,
Blurry visions, scared knowledge
When are we going to be free from Myopia?

Waiting To See The Doctor

It rained in me
The tears of pain
At an opened door that answers all pains
With a heart of hope
I begged to see the healer whose hands were magic
I moved to the desk to present my card as cold as charity
My frail fingers were shaking when I scrabbled my pockets
With the usual doom and gloom
I pleaded with the man on the desk to check his book
He turned his charming eyes and smirked
You need a new card, he said
And the healer watched from afar as I groaned in pain


Exiting life
Moving to a new place
Where sin no longer controls us


Licking my dry lips
When my heart will give out

Meeting Grim, the Reaper...

I was standing in a corner
draining the vein, you see
When out from the wall, stepping slowly
came a man of pure ebony

Plain and black and not there, but he was...
I saw him you see, was I dead?
His eyes were a blank, didn't see me
but the emptiness filled me with dread

The man sleeping under the plastic
moaned low, and Reaper touched lightly
He lost the race, another day of life
The man gasped just once, so slightly...

George Washington Set Potus lie

trumped hill re: by a bill yon votes
and bridged tradition (Abe Lee) linkedin
to present president; biden his time
trying to build back better
suspended crumbling infrastructure
hallmark of United States
transportation superhighways
tied railed planks
successfully spanned across country.

First Kiss

Walking with my hips swaying
Towards you then
touching your chest to feel
the beat of your heart
inhaling your scent as I lean
into you, can’t be apart
gently pressed up against
your body, not too fast
needing to make each
and every second last
with profound passion
that is unhesitating
submissive or teasing
you got me debating
with sensual tenderness
our lips then meet
my body melts into yours
as if admitting defeat
fingertips stroke your neck,
and caress your chest

I remember turtle fishing with my grandfather
when I was a kid. We went around the lake in his boat,
checking the huge and fearsome hooks he used.

He pulled one up with the bait gone, the hook bent almost straight.
Later on, that very hot, Midwest summer day, he couldn’t seem to understand
why my brother and I didn’t want to go swimming there.

I recall thinking it best to let my imagination keep me safe
from the horrible jaws that no doubt lurked there,
just underneath the deep blue surface of that awful lake.

Tomorrow’s Soldier

Why do we send our children to war,
To seek revenge or settle a score?
They’re young and strong and full of life,
They have no fear of trouble or strife.

We’ll fire them up and wish them well,
And then send them trough the gates of hell.
It’s just an adventure and it’s all so exciting,
Do they even know who or why they are fighting?

For those who return all battered and sore,
No thanks for fighting a rich man’s war.
A terrible waste of young women and men,
They did what was asked and they’d do it again.


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