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Neopoet Weekly 03/17/24 to 03/23/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 

2:23am by zach

 

Congratulations to zach on such a fine poem.

Early Spring Image Prompt Contest Vote

Early Spring Image Contest Vote

 

Please read the two finalist poems below and click on the vote here link to vote on your favorite poem. Voting ends March 29th 2024.

 

 

The Visitor

By: Mary Beth Magee

You visit for a moment,

Accept a breath of hospitality,

Then dash away again.

You share your company briefly.

 

But in that time, oh,

The magic you bring.

From tiny eggs to instars

To gloriously patterned wing.

 

I watched you hatch and crawl,

Grow, shed and wriggle.

You change your dress. Your

New look makes me giggle.

 

You give me joy and delight

With your aerial ballet.

My royal friend, magician,

Harlequin at play,

 

Dear monarch, share your gift

Of grand, exuberant joy

With all. Give us eyes to

See, and feelings to employ.

 

You set an example

Of living in the moment.

Let us live so our days

Are likewise spent.

 

Dash on, my friend,

Your destiny calls.

Send your children my way

When the milkweed grows tall.

 

Spring Comes

By: Candlewitch

 

Fields of springy clover

beneath my barefoot toes,

dance-happy feet kick up

a delight everyone knows!

 

Green, green all around,

a heart full of joys untold

rolling over and over in

nature's paradise hold!

 

In gardens of my growing hopes

tulips, buttercups and crocus

flourish healthily blossoming,

as Spring comes into focus.

 

 

Vote Here

Neopoet Weekly 03/010/24 to 03/16/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

Dancing In The Dark  by  William Lynn

Congratulations to William Lynn on such a fine poem.

Neopoet Weekly 03/03/24 to 03/09/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

 

THE LAST RING by  Jokerface82

 

Congratulations to Jokerface82 on such a fine poem.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Silence

Wish melancholy upon the wind
while birds lie silent, feathers skinned
and rivers flow with stench-black jeers
we want to sleep again

the stench of money ebbs and flows
as children sleep beneath the bones
with bastardly sin they overhear
we try to sleep again

will you not answer their harrowing calls
they rattle and moan beneath the walls
your brothers and sisters are weeping my dear
we will not sleep again

IMPERMANACE DECANTE

Krack a smile
would it hurt
tinfoil cheap capped yearling

Expunge your soiled heartbeat breast
and let the fizz of the jacked up
Beat talk best

Nothing like the rush of things
to better unbecome
Invisible
Raise a toast by the neck
and taste its Essence
This vessel
Bless it under this
vulgar rain dressed night
that we may be pure
Against the warmth
of this fire
kindled in our loins

..

Of all the seats invented, one persists.
'Twould be the one for which most all would vouch,
and say a greater comfort can't exist
than when one's resting on one's favourite couch.

With stays and cushions sprung in interplay,
a range of shapes to fit, so every station
could then recline and while away the day
in clever, contemplative conversation.

substanxe

axial existance
whipped in candle steam boasts
the room swimming in insence
and thick heat
the bruises fresh from presses
of the juggernaut

rolling like beads of brilliant
understanding
the wickedness of treasures
in breathe caught
visions swum
like exposed waterworlds
heaved upon rocks

Tawny bedroom haze
sucked in the vision
of smitten like

music a scourge and
madness mix

a race through forests
dark and daring
the price a Love
most harsh
Uncaring

A Retrospective in Clay: Interlude

I open my eyes and I think of you,
those last sad days your kisses graced my lips.
Each small breath I draw stirs the grief anew;
it feels as if my soul is in eclipse.

We lived a love made from the stuff of dreams.
It held us in eternity's embrace.
We faced the darkness with defiant screams;
discarding dignity and futile grace.

But as I sit and grasp at memory,
your treasured trinket clutched hard to my breast,
my heart is frail as this aged pottery
and I cheer at the tightness in my chest.

satellites,seamen

blue grapes, at late, drapes of black orange
hurls passion for the sea pleasure of satellites
wiry, but that was caught by birdsongs
and a colossal twinkling of the nights sea creatures

in an avenue for all living things colourful
ballerina of circles, she might compose
tresses of pink emeralds, mauve blister squash
dances for the derailment of aged oystershells

centrifigul

vortex ascension
sun splits dimensions
An eye above
an arms length
shines
a spill of gloss
enamor lush
rushes in the
throes this grasp
The wind of lust
gushes in its
rush
behind the whirling
hum of a summer
fan

prism beads the
sheen on arms
shimmer like
lights of the edge
the tiny stars
shivering
in this dusk
of darkness

the pummel heart
swelling in its
tender cage
racing

Sins of the Flesh (yet another humor contest poem)

I so love your skin's feel
beneath my old rough fingers
e'en after a caress I steal
the memory still lingers

As touch moves on to gentle cleft
I'm filled with anticipation
of patience I am now bereft
please fill my expectation

And as each little roundish nub
also begs for attention
calling out for a light rub
and a poem's lyric mention

Just the sight of your soft curves
fills me with such delight
and never ever fails to serve
to enrich my appetite

a coyote bleak

flesh of gold
the rain and the sour waffles
melts in progeny, delve deep
feline black suede embellished
waters who watches stick
the colours of a greyhound

a weaker flesh
fancy each ripeness
dragoon the eye of all coyote's
stone on the skies
in float of rainbows translucent

flesh is bread
and blood is wine
glitz in the meridian
stark darkness, hunger!
sacred hearts, born not of tame
paint turmoil passes;
slim curvatures of green gases
now, diabolic excavation

Then and Now

then is not now
but somehow
then,
surfaces for a
grasp of air
in present
memories.
memories.
memories.
if the then does not exist
how are we here now?
what was it then?
and what will it be? then?
then when?
and how?
is tomorrow now?
memories
memories
memories of
a child's hand
painted in colour
white curtains
that sway in the gentle breeze
and a moon as large as earth
memories
memories
of birth
linger
in the depths

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