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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.

About Contests

There have been some changes to the about contest page
To take a look visit
https://www.neopoet.com/contest/program-description-and-guidelines

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Winner!

The winning poem of the

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine is

 Backwards by  Carrie

Congratulations to Carrie on such a unique poem.

 

This week the Neopoem is

 

  My Heart, My Heaven by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on another contest win as a neopoet member.

April 2024 Contest Winners

Congratulations to our April 2024 contest winners!

Spring Fling  was won by Carrie with the poem Spring Fling

04/24 I Was An April Fool was won by Geezer with the poem Fooled Again...

04/24 Waiting In Line was won by  Mary Beth Magee  with the poem The Last Time

04/24 Are We There Yet?  Was won by Rula with the poem We're Almost There For It

04/24 My Favorite Cookie was won by Leslie with the poem After school treat!

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

When I have fears...

John Keats (1795-1821)
WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high pil`d books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, 5
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more, 10
Never have relish in the faery power

Workshop: 

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

By Joyce Kilmer.

Rhiannon's rewrite:

Workshop: 

I Like those Who Side Me

We are an individual entity
So we have the key.
A damned hard one
With which, we can knock and open.

Such a key, you have taken charge of,
Though a bit too late
Yet I assure you, now no swine
Without permission, can enter your gate

Dogs are not allowed
Now tell them so
Since you are yourself, hence,
As a new life, now you commence.

HOUSING FOR ALL

House rent exploits
Called business enterprises
Draining the tenant’s income
In cyclical repayments
Turned sour upon demand
Merchant vessels perished
In service stormy seas
Landlord calls in due course
Heartbeat of renter skipped
Ran in fear, like Adam of old
On hearing the voice of God
Looked for where to hide
Lest he be driven out of Eden
These rented houses, where I live
Are like traps set for city dwellers

Fractured

Twisting, throttling and asphyxiating,
shredding, smashing , ricocheting off of walls.
rising then plummeting.

Slammed into pulp
burst like a ripe melon
smacked up against , collision

Haemorrhaging
clawing and raking of flesh
peeling back to expose nerve endings

Grating tissue and grey matter
violating
blood streaking across epidermis

Caustic fluid stripping eyeballs
crimson , point jabbed into bran stem
Wailing, caterwauling

Soaring in oblivion
non-existence
at peace

Things can only help define
her as undefinable;

seemingly frail, oppose her you'll fail
give her one reason, she's had a belly full!

Purely in my interest I notice
all instances start resembling "luck";

she'll always look great, although "fashionably late"
because of you she will not give a "fuck".

Merely an independent sparkle of an act
that's more "smoke" than "mirrors" I think;

Stuck

wandering lost and cold
I came upon a celler door
I broke the lock
feeling no shame

there, shelves stocked with food
a cot in the corner
and a colorful blanket

were they expecting me?

full bellied
wrapped in warmth
I laid down
and wept at my shameless ways

Ecstasy

What an orgasmic feeling
The culmination of the
Ultimate awaited eruption
Anointment
In the soft sweet milk divine

A final sealing of human ecstasy
Soaring,
As it collapses
Two souls bound as one

Poem inspired by raj the poet

Turning Around

A restless spirit has come upon me

How far still can i go

How far have i come

Reluctantly,turning around.

I beheld the path of my life

The trodden grass, molded

The bridges crossed now fallen

Yes, like they fell and scatter across the ground

Broken images, the forgotten.

I see old comrades empty abodes and weep

The stench of time lingers at the doorstep

Eerie greetings from moans beaneth my feet

And in the brush beyond dance the ghost of eternal sleep.

The crimson sun falling behind the mountain

Watering the Elephants

The twilight of the gods is upon us
we shoot the breeze on our knees
what shall we aim for that isn't taken?

The moon already has too many lovers,
and the sun, regardless of intensity,
brings out only a shadow.

This is a dream theater.
There's nowhere to hide in love that is forsaken.

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