Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Home

Community News

Neopoet Weekly 06/09/24 to 06/15/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-06-15 16:12

 

This week’s winner is Lavender with the following poem

 

Winning Poem

Magic

Submitted by Lavender

A falling star settled on my rose,
a diamond dipped in velvet clothes.
I dared not touch the pure gift
sent from heaven, so swift,
but let it rest there
in such sweet air
and comply
to my
wish.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Summer Image Prompt Contest Vote

Submitted by neopoet contests on Wed, 2024-06-12 23:01

Please read the following poems

And vote below.

Voting ends June 19th 2024

 

 

 

Abandoned

By:  Mary Beth Magee

 

She bobbed there in the gentle swell,
The little boat I knew so well.
The sail wrapped tight along the boom
Gave me a feeling of dark doom.
I saw no anchor chain hung down
To stop her, lest she run aground.
No one sat in her empty bow.
No hand controlled her keel just now.
A gentle breeze set her to rock.
How did she get loose from the dock?
As the breeze caused her to turn,
I spotted paint along her stern.
Rough letters where my name had been -
The words now looked like "Mortal Sin."
What had he done in dark of night?
Was he convicted by dawn's light?
Then in the reeds beside the dock…
What I saw gave me quite a shock.
A body, face down, on the lake,
Could it be him, for heaven's sake?
Please, no, I prayed and backed away.
What pushed him so, I cannot say.
I didn't dream that he would dare.
I only know I lost him there.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Summer Image Prompt Challenge-Sailing

By: Hon

 

In the sailing wind blow
pacing along with the flow
feeling at ease and contented
under the vast blue sky
the spray of the fresh air
embarking on a new journey
traveling miles far apart
carrying with a curious mind
awaiting for a new opportunity
embracing with a sense of hope
bringing with an emotional ride
through many different stages
at the endless spending time
finding own destination
with each tale of the story
comes with lessons
instilled with the thought
life is a learning experience
that takes where it goes
a place that holds special
to the heart that embraces
like home

 

 

 

 

Vote Here

 

Thank you for your Participation!

 

Neopoet Weelky 06/02/24 to 06/08/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-06-08 22:23

 

This week’s contest winner is hippiemoon with following poem:

Archeology

By: hippiemoon

Years from now,
We will be dead and buried.
Your laugh nothing more than
A whisper in the wind,
A breeze carrying off dandelion wishes.

Our headstones will rest together,
Aging together, as we did in life.
Tears from our loved ones will mix with rain
And our memory will fade with the engravings.

And years from now,
We’re forgotten by everyone but the Earth.
They will dig our bodies up
And find our bones entwined in each other’s arms.

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

Neopoet Weekly 05/26/24 to 06/01/24 Contest Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-06-01 22:22

Congratulations to Shelby Pryor for winning this week’s contest

 

Something New

Rain rushes from the skies
Mixing with a single tear
The wind cuts through
Like every doubt, every fear

Lightning shatters my peace
Like the pieces of my mind
A distant thunderclap mocks
Of the girl I was and left behind

A tornado rages in my head
Demolishing my peace and joy
I plaster on a smile for you,
But it's just a tactic I employ

The fear paralyzes my heart
Yet I'm so tired of being afraid
It is time to get up and fight
Before my resolve starts to fade

My fingers curl around my sword
I lift it high, I've got my armor on
I bring it down with all my strength
Until the shattered pieces are gone

There is no fixing the girl I was
No use in buying time with glue
The only solution is to shatter her
And forge with fire Something New

 

To leave an additional comment on the contest page click here

1 June Neopoet Weekly 05/26/24 to 06/01/24 Contest Winner!
31 May May 2024 Contest Wins!
31 May June 2024 Contests
25 May Mother's Day Image Prompt Contest Winner!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Free Verse Poet

Submitted by loved on Fri, 2012-03-02 23:48

Great, I’m free

As is all my free verse poetry
Not many read me
As I speak in riddles
but that doesn't irk me,
as free I am
as a soaring bird ought to be,
Out above the horizon
Where humanity is not limited...

I soar beyond all oceans and time
I bother not about meter or rhyme
if none read me it isn't a crime.
for Loved is creativity
hence that name of mine.

CONVERSATION WITH THE DEAD

Submitted by t. reflexion on Fri, 2012-03-02 23:01

Through the tunnels of my ear lobes
They came, talked and left, the words echo
Struggling in strive, they stumbled
Waking up and back to our beds
The living and dying dressed up
In recurrent cycles of woes
Looking at our history lesson
I wonder why we forget fast
The dead fret not for the living
They are dead and rest now in peace
Hassles are for those still alive
On what the future holds for them
The dead natter with silent signs
In sleep, like death, we learn to die

The Spoken Gesture (edit)

Submitted by Eduardo Cruz on Fri, 2012-03-02 22:05

Why is it,
That I can’t identify
The words said
With her eyes

Am I truly looking deep inside
Can I reflect what’s conveyed
From a heart that touches mine
Is it a moment
I have let pass in time

There are words never spoken
Which are articulated with a gesture
That speak volumes
Without vibrating upon an eardrum

If my eyes were truly open
Would I gather
The corollary intimation
Of librettos which were not sung
Only to be captured in loves relation

Flung From The Nest

Submitted by lowdownlady on Fri, 2012-03-02 22:05

It was November the last time you touched me.
It was November and the leaves had done their changing.
Winter was calling, coaxing them to curl,
beckoning brown where Autumn had lit them.

In my head you are still at the foot of my bed.
One lightbulb humming golden on our skin.
This is how memory moves.

You are long and you are pale
but I remember you pink.
So you are pink. You are a poison.
Do you remember me laying on the floor that night?

The Silent Siren

Submitted by lowdownlady on Fri, 2012-03-02 22:03

I stripped and skinny dipped
down into your eyes
the night you left me.

Cold, cold, murky waters,
deep black sockets.

Your hands were in your pockets.
I rose trembling on your shore.

Solitaire

Submitted by emogothgirl on Fri, 2012-03-02 21:03

perhaps a stupid thing
laughable, yes
but frustration is intricate
it's web works in mysterious ways -
for example:
a deck of cards.

a game, just a game i said
then i said it again
if you don't say it, it can't be true
so the reverse must work as well.

AFTER WORK

Submitted by scribbler on Fri, 2012-03-02 16:29

* Here goes scribbler traveling unfamiliar territory again. Another attempt at poetic prose...........stan

Knocked off today an hour early
(old knee was screaming way too loud.)
Between it and such warm March first
there was excuse aplenty.

So down the old two lane road I went
eyes roaming through the dirty windshield
of my old red pick up truck.

All the maples had a blush
as buds prepared to open.
Or maybe they had just wakened
and were embarrassed at having spent
the past winter naked.

GAMBOGE LICHEN WALK

Submitted by Nordic cloud on Fri, 2012-03-02 13:09

"GAMBOGE LICHEN WALK"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 2nd March 2012.

The wood that walks the path towards the lake has wind-
felled trees, they block the path, we have to make a detour
treading on the top of frosted crystals, a thousand diamonds glow
no more the wooden bridge rocks loudly as we pass, 'tis solid too;

Warfare

Submitted by loved on Fri, 2012-03-02 09:13

Very true
In war
none is ever killed by a bullet
as all fire in the darkness
only shells wound.....
snipers are not worth their salt
if they don't kill
one for one,
may be injure another
with the same single bullet
Ricocheted
I am thus.....
each poem of mine
must touch the heart
in such a manner
that tears must flow
else, my poetry ought to blow

sacred cows and the last monument to God's name

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Fri, 2012-03-02 09:07

The dead follow you sometimes
where mountains are lost
in a white avalanche of poems;
they wear keys around their necks
and you hear them jingle sometimes
but you think of windcatchers
and catch a waft of dirt from somewhere
deep inside another memory, filling your
nostrils with the scent of olive trees and
strawberry blossoms.

You read poems to old gods and lovers you
barely remember and pigeons follow your
crumbs, warming themselves in your breath.

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.