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Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-20 14:53

This week the Neopoem is

 

Poetic Creations by Mark

 

Let us congratulate Mark on his latest contest win.

Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-13 21:46

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!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-06 22:02

This week the Neopoem is

 

Enchantress.by Alex Tanner

 

Let us congratulate Alex Tanner on his latest achievement.

March 2024 Contest Winners!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sun, 2024-03-31 21:16

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.

13 April Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24
6 April Neopoet Weekly 03/31/24 to 04/06/24 Winner!
31 March March 2024 Contest Winners!
31 March April 2024 Contests
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Kuiper

Submitted by Conect11 on Wed, 2015-08-19 00:36

I think I'd rather
have unrequited love
than to float about
like this,
hanging on
to whatever lordship or prize
life, or the gods
decided to throw my way.

I'm great, really.
Great at the solemn art of not being hurt
or breaking down.
I'm great at brushing it all off.
I'm great.
Really.

Hustler's Plight

Submitted by alidzain on Tue, 2015-08-18 14:45

Happiness, a broken mirror.
Hope, a shattered dream to be.
Innocence lost forever,
as nightmare fed into reality.

Cruelty lurks behind closed doors,
A broken will shackled and caged,
an abused body left on the floor,
a beautiful life was shattered,

Since then, smiles and laughter
lose their authenticity,
enslaved to human-faced monsters
whose lust shackles me.

Can you see my silent tears,
the mental scars I've suffered,
wrapped in a cocoon of fear
while mortal demons feasted?

METAMORPHOSIS

Submitted by Geremia on Tue, 2015-08-18 12:49

METAMORPHOSIS

I don't speak of Spring flowers
sunny days and pic-nicks by the sea.
times of wonder; eyes clouded
by blind innocence.

My soul now mourns
the death of Time
and the loss of dreams
and my eyes have looked
beyond what seems.

What is done is gone,
no-one comes back
from the dead.
What I see in front of me
is pain and dread...and change.

SILENCE.... THE ANGELS OF PEACE ARE PASSING BY

Submitted by lovedly on Tue, 2015-08-18 00:24

SILENCE.... THE ANGELS OF PEACE ARE PASSING BY
AMEN ..

Peace comes from within

Peace comes from within
seeing the surfs
rise and fall

a distant ship
far in the horizon
rises tall
then calms your
DOWN UNDER
nerves
waves bring calm and peace

not writing on the sand at all
twill be washed
ere you into the waters fall

calm down
peace comes from within
let’s now begin

Searching peace
from within!

THE OLD DEER STAND

Submitted by scribbler on Mon, 2015-08-17 18:51

There's a man I never met before
yet I know him just the same
and think about him often times
as I pass by a ruined tree stand.

This deer stand I first saw long ago,
a few boards clinging to a dying cedar
with most of it upon the ground
slowly burning by decay.

The stand was old when I was young.
I suspect its builder was long gone,
his sons, perhaps, were near my age
and like me have since become bald or gray
as the last boards clutching the tree,
boards which creak like old joints in the wind.

Look, at what I see ... for Ian T.

Submitted by Seren on Mon, 2015-08-17 10:08

I have been moulding
shaping, writing and painting
in the art of Forgiveness
I've now gone the distance

See...

I've refined the lines
Proofread all the text,
binned canvas after canvas
in the quest for my best

I've lost plot of my stories
as my readers eyes digest,
sold the sculpture marveled
chipped from a hearts breast

time doesn't exsist
I've recinded belief
right there I found
pure comfort, relief

s e v e r a n c e s of s l e i g h t z

Submitted by Esker on Mon, 2015-08-17 02:55

into the bliss
this moonlit kiss
of light that lingers
lengths between the
fingers
tensile touch

save you
said you

the seasons storms
had gathered all the
steel and charms
like glitter on the edge
of stitches holding
wounds that never
heal

had we become the
vessel once bright
now seasoned
with the pain and new
dark depths desires

derrotero dilletantte

Submitted by Esker on Sat, 2015-08-15 22:33

discipula
antumbra

I was beneath a cascade
of wealthy winter

crystals
falling drunk from heaven
I awoke frozen
the ice in the slow
knock of my hearts chamber
and you were
Upon the shine
of a watch fire
a dark fear
staged near

speak not a sound
while the tender
beam of stillness
fell abound

i could taste
your breath
on the stale dream
feel your terse
lips drawn steady
the bosoms heat

as time stood still

Submitted by Seren on Sat, 2015-08-15 14:07

My pen finds pause
my body is broken,
a weighted horror
cleaves my breast

The strings of hope sliced
as I put dreams to the sword,
but hands now whisper to stars
across a fabric brushed heaven

Tomorrow is a lie of mysteries
today is in the now of knowing,
Like burning comets the pain
thrashes into my hearts core

A journeys end now nears
the roads all find dead ends,
revived from a morass of mourning
eyes are filled with oceans

HIDING BEHIND MAMMA'S SKIRT --edit

Submitted by Geremia on Sat, 2015-08-15 10:42

HIDING BEHIND MAMMA'S SKIRT

There is no honor, no bravery
no courage nor will
in death's agony;
only fear and the loss of the self.
The soul sickens in its loneliness
and the mind hides in shadows
of fantasy and delusion.
A deep sense of alienation
begins the final disconnect.
we wait and wonder until
we can wonder no more.
Our voices are lost in echo
to a silent and indifferent universe
and then with our last breath
in desperation and hope
we call for our mother..

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