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April 2024 Contest Winners

Submitted by neopoet contests on Tue, 2024-04-30 20:38

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!

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Mon, 2024-04-29 23:58

Vote for this month’s image prompt contest winner

Voting ends May 6th 2024.

Vote at the end of this newsletter.

 

Backwards

By: Carrie

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

G
I wanna fly a kite
A
At night instead of day,
C
I wanna drive a big old truck
D
The opposite way
G
I wanna laugh when I’m sad,
C
And cry when I’m happy and gay
D A
I wanna do what no one’s done
G
Any other day.

G
I wanna wear all my clothes
A
Wear em all inside out,

C
I wanna be real quiet,
D
When everybody else wants to shout
G
I wanna see the stars
C
When everybody else sees the sun
D
I want my day to end
C G
When everybody else’s has begun.

C D
Wouldn’t it be weird, wouldn’t it be funny and strange
A
If everyone thought like this,
G
Slightly deranged.

 

 

Lost Love

By: Alex Tanner

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

For fleeting months we tarried,
Each time we met we knew
This may be the last time
For lovers hours are few.

If I love ten thousand women
Tis you I will recall;
You gave yourself so willing,
For your passion I did fall.

On black nights as the wind howls,
As I lie in a bed so cold,
Your soft voice echoes 'cross the years
To warm my lonely soul.

                                                                                                                                         

Vote Here

Thank you for your participation.

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/21/24 to 04/27/24 Contest Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-27 23:40

This week the Neopoem is

 

 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

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

20 April Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!
13 April Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24
6 April Neopoet Weekly 03/31/24 to 04/06/24 Winner!
31 March March 2024 Contest Winners!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Either Way

Submitted by emogothgirl on Wed, 2011-12-21 08:59

I've marked myself up;
the evidence of two years passed-
but i can't see how time keeps on keeping on
when there is so much want between two places, so far away.
two places, tethered by a feeling
only known to one.
But we were just so close.
If i could reach out just a little more, i could touch your hand,
but it seems as though there's a mountain between us.
i don't know what love is,
and i do know that this feeling hasn't yet reached my toes.
maybe with time it will,

thumb-stuck thru the middle

Submitted by the_fool on Tue, 2011-12-20 22:44

one day to tallahassee
two to yosemite
one to portland
day n a half to denver
border to border
coast to coast
big thumb

eight fucking days
contemplation
along I-35
70 out o kans's city
that reeks o carcass
rot n dog food
okie even worse
       seein images
       masks n
       license plates

FROM UNDER A CEDAR, DRY

Submitted by scribbler on Tue, 2011-12-20 18:02

On southern wind this early morn
comes a chill late autumn rain
tapping castanets upon my hat
in monotonous refrain.

Each time a drop hits colored leaf
it knocks it loose from summer home
sending it to join its kin
among the dampened duff and loam.

The ground beneath each different tree
is covered in its own bright hue
and flattened further by the rain.
A quilted multi-colored view

Life finally tuned..

Submitted by Roscoe Lane on Tue, 2011-12-20 17:58

Life finally tuned..

There’s a space in my mouth where
a tooth used to be I can feel it with
the tip of my tongue.
There are sounds on my mind
where no sounds used to be
especially when I was young.

There’s a giant belly down there where
no belly ever was I can barely see
the end of my toes. There are things I do
now that I never did before like squirting
medicine up inside of my nose

Curse

Submitted by Esker on Tue, 2011-12-20 15:00

it was my haunted eyes
and pale skin
"Little white bastard"
I had no name for the three
months my mother cared for
me
the near fatal crash in the
station wagon at the crossing
the broken lamp in the operating
room

they gave me babies to hold
and objects of the dead when
I returned and I listened patient
feeling the touch of that shadow
across my soul

A WISH FOR YOU

Submitted by Eduardo Cruz on Tue, 2011-12-20 14:50

A sparkle from an eye,
As the other winks approval.
He sees you and is happy,
With all the work you do.

The festive spirit,
Lives inside of you.
Giving from your heart,
Is what it means to you.

Happy you are,
For family and friends.
Even of those,
From way back when.

The merry man's wink,
Is all you need.
Happy holidays to you,
Your whole life through!

Poets also rot, as

Submitted by loved on Tue, 2011-12-20 12:31

They refuse to change their stance
Many more Shakespeare’s are needed,
If poets need to flourish

Remove the don’t do this,
Don’t do that tags,
No blog poems,
No comments to be converted into poetry
Are all indicators of idiosyncratic?
Cradled and saddled
As well as saddened minds
Albeit
I am sorry to say so…

A poet in order to survive
Should be like a vast desert,
A vast ocean,
Spread across eternity,
If you want poetry to survive
In today’s limited environment

poem on the occasion of the flag coming home

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Tue, 2011-12-20 09:04

Statistics.

Statistics don't lie
though the truth is relatively
forgotten in revisionist history.

There were no weapons of mass destruction
no one cut the puppet strings
until someone pulled the lever and he
dangled in the air, breathless and motionless.

Casualties.

Cold the steps of coin...

Submitted by Roscoe Lane on Tue, 2011-12-20 05:04

Cold the steps of coin..

They sit on cold steps of coin,
undemanding types demanding
an unequal gap in our lives be
closed, we from the comfort of
suburbia sleepwalk to a certain
death not physical, but a stifling
end of thought and dream
un apposed

Killed off by rhetoric from a square
shape in the corner, never hearing
live the speech makers or standing
shoulder to shoulder with a
questioner’s mike.

Just wonder full...

Submitted by loved on Tue, 2011-12-20 04:27

How I wish I could benefit too,
Just by reading you,
Why have you taken?
A long spell to return

"Where [is] all the midnight oil
[That] you [burned]?"

In alleys and valleys,
Entwined, intermixed with joys and sorrows,
But whatever may have been your plight
Morrow after morrow,
It must have added to your strength
From which I dare to borrow
And your footsteps follow

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