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This week the Neopoem is

 

Poetic Creations by Mark

 

Let us congratulate Mark on his latest contest win.

This week the Neopoem is

 

there you are by  leoferaco

 

Let us congratulate leoferaco on his latest achievement.

Neopoet Weekly 03/31/24 to 04/06/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 

Enchantress.by Alex Tanner

 

Let us congratulate Alex Tanner on his latest achievement.

March 2024 Contest Winners!

Congratulations to our contest Winners 

 

Mother Nature  contest  was won by Lavender with the poem To My Monarch and Her Milkweed

03/24 New Member Contest was won by lostLA with the poem insights of a orphan

03/24 I Was Bullied was won by Candlewitch with the poem Ramming Speed!

03/24: What My Best Friend Gave Me was won by  Mark with the poem What My Best Friend Gave Me

03/24 Looking At The Stars was won by Alaethia D with the poem Dear Heart, One More Time

03/24 My Favorite Pet was won by  Alex Tanner withy the poem My Pal Jet.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

love em

love em

Don’t miss them

FURREOUS FYRE

she extorts
and he proud
exorts
She kicks stones out on the road
they roll and roll
He sucks slow the cigarette
watching her from the corner
of her eyes
tank top and old soul
cinched up in all
her lovers
none satisfy what she
craves
the man with body
and eyes most brave

the creek drinks
shadows swaying
hypnotic
the slash of the
hot chrome
breath of exhaust
from exotics

shes rough and
rounded but
he stirs
the erotic

Cowley's Maxim

"I doubt all things in order to prove all things"...

Faith prompts action
farmers stomp
and reap
to sow salvation

How queer the skeptic
in me
to disprove
the faith eclectic

I have no spirit
I have nothing to prove

I have no intellect
I have nothing to learn

I have no love
I have nothing to hold

or so I think
but I could be wrong

flows of emotions (Hiding emotions in metaphors)

What's that, once calm, inside her chest,
now overdoes the hums and bumps?
whene'er Julie would look to John
it throbs, it shivers in no rest.

And what's the reddish, blooming thing
that burns that part you call the cheeks?
As if the plains have rushed in red
when God decides to bring the spring.

DEER AND OTHER SCOUTING

Slowing to a tar and gravel stop
on a crumbling farm to market road
built to transport autumn's crop
truck by bulging truckful's load.
With trip- weary legs I disembark.

Four days ago this field held corn.
Three days ago steel picker came;
then it rained on the next morn.
This stubbly field is not the same
as last time I came here to park.

FROM SPOCK"S VIEWPOINT (metaphor shop poem)

I see all the things called emotions
Which defy all logic to me
people nearly crying oceans
from "sadness" or being "angry".

Tell me how one such as I
can determine how they "feel"
for no matter how I try
I can't comprehend "woe" or" Weal".

Is anger just like being burned
or is it cold as glacial ice?
Is joy like a new theorem learned
and exactly what is "nice"?

What manner of communication is this
your eyes do overflow with water
and what of this gesture
one human placing it’s mouth on the other

such a cacophony of sound
being emitted by this tiny human
and why do they jump up and down
on their bottom ends

Are all humans such a dark shade of red
I expect that they might being
to breathe fire
would they not burn up in flames

I did not think it possible
that the orifice from which sound emits
could stretch from side to side
what is this contortion

TESTING THE WATERS:

TESTING THE WATERS

I test the waters
carefully
with words chosen
singularly
my thoughts fall
as they come
silent to most
heard by some
or none
i never did hide
behind metaphor or rhyme.
no time
to add mystery
to a world mysterious.
Let the heart speak
its stillness
and the soul will listen

What is hate? (metaphor workshop)

Projectiles rifle through me
as flying bugs of harm,
but then what I do see
must be a culture’s charm.

They kill each other as a sport,
I cannot ken the rules
nor can I see what it purports,
in fact it’s rather cruel.

They have a term that’s quite concise,
it seems to mean a lot,
though little of it seems precise
they’re joyful that they fought.

They call it war.

Flamboyant

My thought hijacked punctuation
it spiked and dived in pendulous motion
tiny isomers burst in exclamation, before
I shunned their rhyming commotion

In angst, I thwarted the monotonous swings
setting my thought on a hyperbolic curve
in free space it rejoiced
surging in intense, ecstatic exultation
to a tumultuous celebration
of an inebriated mind
unshackled

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