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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!

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

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.

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.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Carrion (Meter workshop)

The stench of flesh so fresh and raw and hewn,
my eye like lense, so dense on meat so strewn,
I crave the drip of blood on beak for noon,
repast ate fast, too gorged to eat too soon.

Angelic

We are streams of wind that grow
with rising strength across the dark
of sleepless world and tired mind,
flags of breeze unfurled in might
to vanquish well all evil ends
from sacredness of life

We are glowing embers swirling up
from cooling ash of bleak despair
reaching out to warm defeated thoughts
and light the shattered hearts of all those
wracked by endless anguished sadness
with ancient fires of delight

Wild Zebras At Play?

Can you spot those wild zebras,
trotting across noisy plains of green?
Can you spy them with binoculars,
huddling together in familiar scenes?

Can you observe these wild zebras,
emblazoned with their traditional stripes?
Can you recognize distinctive patterns
of opposing colors of black and white?

Can you form an opinion regarding
the thoughts of wild zebras at play?
Can any semblance of ‘Fashion Sense’
force a duality of stripes to rule the day?

d a s h i n a r y r e s o l u t i o n z

you qouth me
wrong
my dark soul blamed
my heart has skimmed
your universe
thoughts aflamed

now tender missed
and bitter kissed

pressed held
dear with its
quest and furies

its quiet rains
and silent flurries

I hold our
sequence
years
puddle trodden
and blurry

this scar
you've carved
is in no
heal
to hurry

Rula's dactyl tetrameter (Bottom Line WS)

Time isn't a thing that we borrow, but
it is about how you live the tomorrow and  
it is a life, an attempt that you go through so,
time is about what you thoroughly learn to do. 

Workshop: 

Bottom line dactyl (Try 3 For Critique)

These are hard and it is becoming longer words than four letters HELP.

Clearly now poets can scribe in a factual way for all
Venturing past our ways poetry talks to me
Working with pride to rejoice in the word of the poet to be
Wesley he told us how writing was flowing a little better you know

Workshop: 

Better Now...

I am/ not sure/ of all/ the rules/
I thought/ that they/ were all/ for fools
But now/ I know/ that it/ is good
And I/ o/bey/ like I/ sh/ould

Workshop: 

Workshop scansion...

When I/ have fears/ that I/ may cease/ to be
I met/ a trv'ller/ from an/ an/tique land
Shall I/ com/pare thee to/ a sum/ers day?

Workshop: 

G L A C I A T I O N

a calendar
circe
borne of its radiation
like a weed freshet grown
striving life from the harsh
striations
a douse of summer
freezing into snow

time
when summer softness
blew a heat sufertuge
of colour
on sculpted cheeks
thin with hunger
appellate desire
a consumption of wolves
blown like black
sirens
through forest
citidels

wear a coat of arms
and put ones heart
in a jar

nectar

Sweeter dreams
liquid laced

sun sparkles upon leaves
billowing in falls air

untouched
gazing through
the once washed panes

dreams edge fade
upon stark realties

lovers lost
a betrayal
Suns warmth regresses to frost

Stare upon the vacant white screen
Feeling naught
As I sip
Unconcerned

Laugher through fingers slip
Dialling for relief
Cost delinquent
Assumed for further ignorance

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