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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.

 

SIGHT TOWER

a fan like a blur daisy whirls
in a bathroom clean
flourescent lights bathe
walls in curious mystery
DOORS tune.."Riders on the Storm"
wails
a mournful dirge
drawing words through
the torpid thick humidity
dusty and jarred with
tension

I watch a spider tiny crawl
on popcorn ceiling
a television growls
downstairs

dog dreams fitful
whinning kicking
legs twitching muscle
running from primal
senses

Jim sings
"yahhhhhh"

Silence conveys

At times
silence
is valued much more
you know why

just place a hand
on her /his shoulders
it conveys

Silence alone speaks
a tear falls
love is spread
between two souls
yours and hers/his

silence at times
is bliss
more than a peck
a kiss
silence is!

PRISONER OF WAR

Marching,
Foots strangling every strand of grass,
Arms breaking through the wind,
Hands changed into fists,
Eye sockets only fixed on a skull,
A barricade of unseen lines demarcates each group,
Sweat creates a path on their mundane skins
And their ‘Kaki’ sucks it up and having no hope
Of getting back to their wardrobe,
For it is heading to the battle ground
With its owner,
To live,
To die
With him,
Whether he conquers,
Whether he suffers defeat,
Whether the innocent blood

Bible Bible

in a pew
singing hymns
beautiful
the oil paint
and green lawn
wood warmth
the crowded din
Everything then
was a Sin
no boys kissing
boys...nor girls
loving girls
God had a plan
for them!!
war was bad
but David slew
the man of a
woman he wanted
God's favorite King
turbulent town
the sinning went
on
no lightening bolt
from Heaven
we would have
lost half the citizens

A soldier's Legacy

A Soldier’s legacy

The silence of the enemy
who made my blood run cold
is aging me quite rapidly
yes, I am growing old

Electric blues and jungle shoes
have preyed upon my youth
and stranded me in fantasy
unrecognized by truth

My eyes, your views

The ignited candle
burns straight
till butterflies try
to it, penetrate

let the brightness of light
flame within the
candle
and
the world be
the harbinger of
calmness and
solitude...

the flickering fire glows
as ever, within
the wavering candle,
seemingly everlasting
is now no more

Grieving

I know you are not here.
I can not see you
or hear you
or talk to you.

I live my life
same old ways.
It still runs on those tracks you laid down
so quietly.

I laugh, smile,
sigh and frown,
getting on with the everyday.
Then, from nowhere
it comes,
that crushing blow
leaving me numb
with grief.

I can not move or speak.
Mind locks on the
small, frail man
in the hospital bed.
That room,
those last minutes.
We were all there
time suspended.

I Forgive

I forgive my father
for not knowing my name nor face,
or that I soiled my diapers.
I forgive him
for the fat lip he never saw
from when I tripped over the sidewalk
on Madison in Lakewood.

And I forgive my sister,
(the youngest older one)
for keeping me out of tenth grade
half a year
with threats of foster care and Metzenbaum.

O! poet you

O! poet you
are you the Mississippi
the Nile
the Amazon
the Ganges
Thames may be
or
the entire Thesaurus
flows from thee

your poetry is
marvelly
sweet as jelly
and
like a pineapple
it is so metaphorical
like my friend
says

vanilla

he loves
it
for its vast
exhibitionisctic delivery

pulp and juices
an auusie he!
What kind of a guy
he
juss guess
will ye!

I.P. in 5, Indigo, Roger That!

Waiting
out the windows
seagulls land
the pool of stone
islands on a flat top roof

everyone shuffling their
hands talking on the
cells
new arrivals
new leaving
the happy receptionist
taking incoming

I stare at the pamphlets
read the magazine
titles

trying too remember
when I first noticed
the first signs
when it became
obvious
shouted of its
arrival

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