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

 

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

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!

 

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

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

 

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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

The Day My Shadow Left

One thing I've been forever admired, for
is my ability to create...

..a partnership between my body,
and my shadow, that's merely....."Great"!

I jest not, while I document
for those, who have not seen...

..for instance, like last St. Patrick's Day,
when we both arrived in green !

I've been known to mix it up
so, when I'm playing music at a "gig";

I've grown accustomed leaving my shadow at home,
because the dancing makes the patrons....."wig"!

TO A BLIND FRIEND

She's not important anymore:
Things didn't go the way that she foresaw-
See her lying on the floor
Can't hurt her more...

Words can't tell you how she feels:
She caught the wrong end of your deals-
You only need her for your thrills
And feels...

http://soundclick.com/share.cfm?id=7040858

NIGHT LIGHT

Easing down a woodland trail
long before daylight
full moon's light both gray and pale
although it's shining strong and bright

I've a flashlight in my hand
to guide my knees past tripping vines
in a monochromatic land
while I daydream of ivory tines

Trying to quieten gimpy stride
so woodland creatures I don't disturb
( still hear their scurries as they hide )
in their pre-twilight suburb

WILDERNESS

Unforgiving tides rush in across
my virtue the crest of the wave
bears down in unrelenting
fashion, testing me.

Clinging to the tapestry of my
being as you fear not the testimony
of any bible that fails to hold
justification in others presence.

Squinting your slanted eyes, your
version trimmed to suit my belief
in it minute, self-confidence was just
a word just something I would observe.

Regression

.
I dream the caveman that dwells within
doth triumph over
my soft and genteel nature

dumb and dull
grunting and groaning my voice
stuffing slim pickings into a yawing mouth
over a pool of dirty droppings

MØLEN STONES

"MØLEN STONES"
Margaret Ann Waddicor November 14th 2010.
Inspired by Terje Gröstad's wood cut of the stones
by the sea: "Rullestein." (Stones transported by glacial
erosion, most often round, hence rolled stones!)

Like a sleeping snake
the sea its wake a foam
so quietly souphs on beach and stone,
to suck them give them sheen
to shine again from out the memories
of time's still stance for them.

Reflective Conversation...

Who's there?
I don't know
Why not?

Who are you?
I'm you
No, you're not

Look close
I see me
Do you?

Gaurdian Of The Night

Watching fiercely, and glowing bright,
Mother moon, gaurdian of night.
Goddess of twilight,she protects so well,
There to defend, where dark things dwell.

She catches nightmares,with the power of love
Sweeps them away on the wings of a dove,
Do not fear night, for she is the queen,
Glowing in the sky, proud to be seen.

nirvana's gate

crooked trails
endless highways
trod these weary feet
most often alone --

along the way
lovers known
always thanked
in dreams

harmonicas play
blues tunes unrepentant
born in dark foggy hollows
harmonizing whippoorwill's
lament

forgetting to remember
to forget
moments unnecessary
besetting surreptitious evils

shuddering soul shunts its
way -- scurrying aloft
no taunts left to hear

Slag

I’ll pose a question,
and then I’ll answer it at length.
You may laugh, I don’t know
Are women allowed to enjoy sex?

Tradition has it women shouldn’t ,
Even says a woman isn’t built that way.
If that is true, maybe she couldn’t,

Lay back and think of England.
Grin and bare it.
Do it for hubby.

Women who express an interest,
Well they are labelled .
Slag, slut, skank , a hussy.

The funny thing I’ve noticed though ,
When it comes to the male ,
No one is keeping score.

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