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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!

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.

                                                                                                                                         

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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Orange and Yellow Mornings

Orange and yellow back lit
by the rising sun.
Like you could just reach out
and grab a handful of color.
Taste the maple on your lips.
Hang on while it lasts.
To quick to ground,
replaced by the scarecrows of winter.
Don’t just hurry by. Pause a
bit and enjoy.
Who knows for whom there will be
no more orange and yellow mornings.

October zephyrs

October zephyrs briskly blow
to sweep away September's fling
and yesterday's a brief echo -
a tantalising taste of spring

Today the trees cavort, dance, while
October zephyrs briskly blow
and, slyly, ebon clouds beguile
preparing moisture to bestow

in sharp cascades, on all below
prolonging winter's long furlong
October zephyrs briskly blow
and I have heard not one bird's song

BULL'S EYE

BULL’S EYE

you hit your mark
you knew it well.
you knew my heart.
the poison lingers still.
your words like jackals
on the hunt
found their kill.
they ripped and tore
until nothing more
of me
was for the taking,

The Eve of Melancholy

The Light, It sprung up from the Earth
Jetting into space, It's remarkable girth
The children hide in their bunks
Looking through the crack
Beams of light slowly rose,
Gently rose from the line
Its beams-its own spectacle, dancing gracefully
Dancing wistfully
On the Eve of Melancholy

WHIFFS OF MEMORY

I caught the scent of muscadines
while strolling through a lonely wood,
a mix of tall hardwoods and pines
near where a crumbling chimney stood.

I stopped and breathed that perfume in
brought to me on a warm faint breeze
and I was not surprised when
the rich scent triggered memories.

I closed my eyes let mind wander
through over fifty years of fall
and thus set myself to ponder
about the shortness of it all.

Sleeping Beauties

by Kailashana on Sun, 2012-11-04 17:18

A Quatern.. The Dauntless Heart

It's great to have a dauntless heart,
a one that's filled with lots of hopes,
it always gives your life a start,
when overcomes the crucial slopes.

As life sustains a running peril
It's great to have a dauntless heart
to bravely lash its dangers-feral
that is a pretty real art.

This life is quite the biggest mart,
to trade in good and bad forever.
It's great to have a dauntless heart,
and get the best purchases ever.

Family Tradition

After a year of ups and downs

Everyone with each other

It's something they look forward to

Together no matter the weather

 

Children's laughter filling the air

While babies cry over it all

Generations of family

Share traditions that are not small

 

Mother and Father love it so

Wouldn’t  have any other way

As they look at their children

Together on Christmas day

 

Father in his rocking chair

With all his sons, their sons too

Is proud of the men he raised

Remember Me

Remember me like the sun
That rises from the horizon
Like a paint of gold that spills
All over the dark sheet of the night
Like the fleeting clouds
Above a world that is still and unchanging
Remember me like waking from a slumber
Unable to recall a lovely dream
Like once a beautiful house
In time abandoned and forgotten
Remember me like the mist
That bathes the grasses with dew
Like the gust of wind
That blows but never comes back
Like a moving scenery

Speak Like Paradise

It would end with me
And I would be fine with it
For up ahead burns something
Not new,
But alive.
And I wait for this fire to burn brighter,
And I hear people talking of the past,
Yet they don’t understand,
They speak of keeping heritage alive
I refuse to live in song and dance.
I prefer to speak in poetry,
The way old Paradise did on that open road.
I prefer to stare the world in the face,
And not say a word.
I crave the silently loud noise of it all.
So yes,
It can end with me

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