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Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sun, 2024-05-05 20:27

The winning poem of the

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine is

 Backwards by  Carrie

Congratulations to Carrie on such a unique poem.

 

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/28/24 to 05/04/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-05-04 13:54

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

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!

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.

27 April Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/21/24 to 04/27/24 Contest Winner!
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!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Our fair share

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2013-10-21 21:44

We all have our own minds
we all have our own slices
we all live
but together …
we can't live alone
can we?

we must value the other
money is just only paper
you can burn and get a burning flavor
but then guilt is your entire share ….
leave it or take it,
if you care …

Indebted

Submitted by mand on Mon, 2013-10-21 10:32

A memory,
vague misty grey,
sees a little girl at play.

Her brothers there,
no voice, no face,
just a void of empty space.

Fragmented shards
of clarity
filter through the murky sea.

He threw a fork,
with no intent,
it was just an accident.

A gaping hole
between her toes.
Tears trickling down her nose.

Her parents arms,
although unseen,
lifts her up, as in a dream.

No noise, no sound,
just bloody pink,
swirling round the kitchen sink.

Down the Aisle

Submitted by Layune on Sun, 2013-10-20 23:56

There is an indecipherable complexion in the way that you look at me,
Oh please forgive.

The soft silk sheer veil admits to truth,
Oh please forgive.

Petals falling
Recite lost poetry

Do you still want me?
Oh please forgive.

Weak knees
Fear retribution

Parting lips
Fountain prayers

Oh please forgive.

A black tear
Diluted with sin
Further corrupts ivory

Please.
Forgive.
Let me go.

Do you want me?
Do you own me?

Let me go.

S a t u r i a t i o n

Submitted by Esker on Sun, 2013-10-20 21:51

languid lean
the cool embalmning of the screen
the whisper of traffic
behind the veil
nights sequin lights
harsh and tiny
emblazoned
like glitter
sharp little shrine
reclined
on tired sheets
on shrugged off
ideals split ends
and worn heels

television
afterlife
tickling light
in tricks

the gravel park
a cigarette
drawn
in sculpted
mouth
while
clouds as
cold as a kingdom
scatter
visions

Experience cum knowledge

Submitted by loved on Sun, 2013-10-20 19:51

Experience cum knowledge
Today ....in fact just now I read a self appraisal

At times I have noticed
one drops words of wisdom
on my poetry,
which is hardly worth a dime
as my best critics chime
always and many rightly pokes
but more than education
it’s the experience ….which counts ….
I taught my mom,…. how to sign when she was nearing seventy… so that she could sign her Will ….

alas! she had nothing left… as her loveliest son
removed all of what she had
right under her nose

CHOOSING SIDES (part 4)

Submitted by scribbler on Sun, 2013-10-20 18:20

*****here within the waking land
where days are spent and love is made
each day's like one more grain of sand
or blade of grass in sunny glade******

On waking I abuse the clock
like on nearly every morning
the silence brings a minor shock
as if I muted some fair warning
my bedmate groans her own distraction

I pat her on familiar flank
then yawn and stretch, let flee a fart
beneath the pillows her head sank
to avoid such a morning start
no surprise at her reaction

An Ode To Country Living

Submitted by Lonnie on Sun, 2013-10-20 14:02

An Ode To Country Living

The buzzards in the trees and the inter-net fees
make country life a hassle
and its hard to sing when you're just a king
with a mortgage on your castle

it gets hot inside the old double-wide
when the summer sun is baking
but with winter’s chill comes a heating bill
that’ll make your soul start aching

In the Valley of Death and Love

Submitted by Barbara Writes on Sun, 2013-10-20 08:11

My Tigers played good
Ran the big plays
Got out played

A big mouth, no humility
Two clowns poking fun
Sore winner take all

Loud mouth quarter back

It's just a game
Win some, loose one
In Tigertown

Stomped by noles
Defense shut down
In death valley

Clemson will be back

But in love-town, a lonely traveler
Walks the dark road of life
Through valley of love

Thought she connected
But you cut the power
To her love for you

Shifted

Submitted by mand on Sun, 2013-10-20 07:41

A rummage of grey clouds smother on high,
threatening dark and dreary.
Boredom fidgets indoors.
pacing carpets weary.

A mottle of melancholy dawdles,
while amble billows shift.
Tedium turns over,
waking the sleeping drift.

Google eyes yawn, retired in fatigue,
weighed by the moribund void.
The dull of stimuli
arrests the cushions toyed.

The clock thumps away the daylight hours,
with the seconds heavy tick.
Striking every hour
to jerk the mosey quick.

SLIGHT

Submitted by non sequitur on Sun, 2013-10-20 06:20

If pain is commensurate with pleaure,
Why do I cry?
If heartache is what I treasure,
Why exacerbate the tries?

If losing is worth
The choosing
Let me not measure
Why I'd be tar- brushed by the feather
That is you!

Pp. 19/10/13

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