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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.

 

Doors (Feb. contest)

In Rome an arch was like unto a gateway to
a realm unlike Eternal Rome could hope to be.

Two Pillars make one unknown door that will be crossed
despite that on the other side will evil be.

So what then is a door but passage on and toward.
Departure and Arrival is gross meant to be.

So open doors, you must you know or life stands still.
Most doors are changes, ruts are ended, I at last am free.

Qs

I‘ve captured a memory, of which I’m so proud
reflecting an icon of purest delight
to never be sullied with paint, I have vowed
and just what and how, I shall, to you, recite

while snoozing one morning, I heard the TV
Sesame Street was on for the day
I heard my young son, a year less than three
joining the singing and word interplay

I thought he’d be safe if I stayed where I was
I left him there to it, after all’s said and done
I thought I might nap just a bit more, because
he seemed to be having such wonderful fun

S U B M E R Z E

bathed in the wishbone colours
supple blue
the deathly hue

the last late bus
slips away
the worn worm
from the dark bloc hut

the click key motion
gloved turn
and a wall light
yellow hall
falls
the door swinging open
the locks in a canal
of dark
splashing
winters tinder dry

stagger high
flicker lamps
come to release
come to cry
the hollow
room will soak
these sighs

A soldier’s battle

A soldier’s battle

The distant jungles abandoned
it gives me a virtual image of a soldier
across the thick jungles
of a place called Vietnam.
The youth then needs you most
the tenderness
since replaced with anger and wrath
against the enemy
hiding behind the tree...

Jungles are a dangerous place to be
as one doesn't know
a reptile, a snake or the bullet of an enemy
may take one’s life just for the asking

Village King

there’s a corner of my deck
still boasts the sun at two o’clock
where I sit and watch the people down below

and behind them on the harbour
laden boats are cutting water
bringing curios from the land of ice and snow

I imagine I am king
with a sceptre fit to sting
believing no one doubts a single word I say

of secret stitches in the curtain
all my subjects know for certain
they’ll be anchors for the longboats in the bay

free will

all sense exists, especially eye and ear
that Divine can view designing so diverse
and beauty, through beholders, can appear
from all the points in this great universe

we splintered our experience of Love
that we may rate affection, joy and tears
to cause, at times, absence of the dove
so we can learn to deal with hate and fears

with haste that we all hardly ever notice
we seek out knowledge, assimilate obscure
for creation’s manifest of thought is endless
and this sojourn is just a short detour

F U N E R A L * F O R * T H E * Y E A R Z

The spring emerged
clasped in damp slates

byzantine eyes
the nervous times

Formality in the weight
of a cough and retractable
pen
a smooth balltip sturdy
the words startled and
tediously calm

Wild orchard
a sky full of
color clung to
branches
curved in new
routes

Windows
with fresh
seeking
nights

driven in
the drive
to survive
behind the
wheel
of fortunate
toil

open my door--------------uf dated

Open the door

Remind me ere it’s too late

The Change

They want you transformed
in the twinkle of an eye.
They know no other task,
it is for your own good.
You are on the way, however
still tarry searching for the coins
others drop along the path
seeking to return some day.

The Southern Door (Feb Contest)

Close it!
Don't let it open.
I don't want to leave here
where peace resides.

The darkness here is bliss,
the gentle beat of the heart,
the sweetest lullaby.
The warmth here signifies life.

I know I won't stay here forever
A time will come for me to leave
when my body is complete
and I'm too big to stay but..

let it be a whole nine months
before the southern door is wide open
and I leave to meet the world
with all of its beauty and ugliness.

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