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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.

 

PONIES

Summer 1947

[Grandma Longo :1874-1947]

She walked in slow motion
with the soft summer breeze
black cotton dress swaying
past her knees
strands of white and yellow hair
floating gently in the air
the ponies had come that day
grandma was blind
I took her by the hand
and she showed me the way

Should we be proud

we are in a filthy enviroment
we have burned places, created fire
smokers taking control of the world
built squatter camps
are we even healthy
Mother eart is crying out
Is it the future we want?

public transport has grown please upgrade you vihicle
police have demolished the sky
teargas has calmed the strikes but has destroyed so much
is this the way to go?
Mother earth is crying out loud
Is this the future that you want?

except for all the others.

The slow beasts of expediency are slouching and lurching
east of the western sea, waiting for their christos, anointed one to
trot home after the votes are totted and they have rebuilt Rome,
in their dutiful stable, and the dreadful norm can continue

A beautiful ugliness is borne by that country both wide, great
and filled with love, heinous hate, vitriol by the black gallon
will float them along for another four years
and the ears of the young will hear the same old song

sometimes I feel

This world has more
than many trees
mostly are visited by bees

few like you and me
love the forest breeze
so come and reach out to me also
if you please.

Dangling on the pavement

Let the hope drive you forward
that she may one day see you
dangling there on the pavement
an ice-cream in each hand
your semi frozen gifts melting
in anticipation.

Eccentric Dancers

flowty
flooid
flitty
surprizery

loopery
sloops
awhoosh
excitasee

squirmily
wormy
wobbledy
runs

loosey
goosely
twistedy
fun

is it our mistakes?

the world of today is strange
it seems okay for lovers to have no trust
the public cares more about tomorrow than today
its okay to keep secrets from those you love
life has a different mean from the old

the youth is social
elders have cursed the generation
the same generation they gave birth to

being a parent has became ordinary
mother earth has more children than adults
who are we to blame?
mother earth is not proud of us

No Malice

No Malice

I called this old dog Malice,
though he wouldn’t hurt a fly
I’m passing a town called Alice,
though I can’t imagine why.

I’ve followed him the longest way,
while he’s just followed his nose.
If only he had learned to obey,
instead of doing what he chose.

We’ve swam across the wildest river,
crawled through deserts dry and bare.
Then snows that made my body shiver,
all the while I’ve wondered where.

Eroscapes

A smile as sweet as a choco lick
soaked in a juicy peachy blush
a form with curves like a meandering river
rushing in its youthful prime

Eyes which sparkle and instantly ignite
a passion with their seductive charm
lighting up somewhere deep within
fires of smouldering desires

Lips so lucid moistened with dew
softer than the rosy primes
ready to be writ on their velvety petals
verses with ecstatic chimes

Be

This hilltop is just fine
No more mountains I must climb
Aspirations have peaked
There's nothing more that I seek
The feeling is quite sublime

........................................................

The simple song of a
sweet water brook
is symphonic enough for me

A field of hay
asway in the breeze
can tease me giddy all day.

Evening porch,
a rocking chair, of course,
watching the sun go down.

A little light reading,
and the sleepys bloom easy,
as wind chimes woocoo the moon

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