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April 2024 Contest Winners

Submitted by neopoet contests on Tue, 2024-04-30 20:38

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

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Mon, 2024-04-29 23:58

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.

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/21/24 to 04/27/24 Contest Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-27 23:40

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.

20 April Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!
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!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

DAY'S LAST THOUGHTS

Submitted by scribbler on Wed, 2015-03-04 13:12

I slowly close my eyes and stare
at the backside of just one eye lid
searching for what might be there
hidden deep within my Id.

But that part of me will not be seen;
who knows, it might be best that way,
better that I never glean
that darkness hidden past the gray.

So I sigh, start thinking quantumly.
Is reality there just if it's seen?
Seen by who? By you, by me?
Do we each perceive our private screen?

My Sweet Home (Effective Con. Pastoral Poetry WS) Rula, Ian, Wesley

Submitted by Rula on Wed, 2015-03-04 02:51

It's not that big...my home I mean,
but it's as sweet as honey could call.
When children's noise goes loud that brings
such calmness, love and peace to my soul.

No matter where our surroundings are
My heart and love will always be
Abiding in a country strange or far
Or where my parents love taught me.

No region, state is large enough
to hold the love of my small land.
Compassion and cacophony
I love my mad cap home

1. Rula
2. Ian
3. Wesley Snow

Workshop: 
Effective Contemporary Pastoral poetry [Let's start]

Mar_sublime_ocean_cousins practice only

Submitted by lovedly on Tue, 2015-03-03 23:52

raj_sublime_ocean_cousins
hi
have we to compose and expose and repose and I suppose
all about and rout and stout and no doubt
cousins and raisins and masons only
do tell me
slowly, slowly.... coolly, coolly
wily, nilly
but don't call me silly dilly
is this the kind of poetry votary
and
well I don't have many living ones
souls, wholes and holes
except many the ass types....
who can we
dole pole or console
then hold their
tail, mail and derail

A Melancholy Pilgrimage (March Contest)

Submitted by Pugilist on Tue, 2015-03-03 23:03

My shoulder to the angry moon,
I’ve sailed the vast eternity
of dreams with tragic destiny
and witnessed both despair and ruin.

On worlds uncounted but for grief,
my shoulder to the angry moon,
I’ve cursed the somber afternoon
while bathed in uncertain belief.

I’ve tended crypts and grave sites bare
filled with the souls who died too soon,
my shoulder to the angry moon
with tears that filled the cheerless air.

And So It Goes, As A Seasonal Affair

Submitted by emogothgirl on Tue, 2015-03-03 15:31

my flowers took root in the ground.
like a metaphor, we will always have roots in each other,
and I like that. but only because it's poetic.
there is a difference
between the time it took for me
to make a casual acquaintance in my bed
and the time it took for you
to make a good friend in yours,
except that doesn't matter. it feels different
but there is snow on the asphalt now.
I drive home with my father's low beams.

6:07PM at 24 degrees fahrenheit,
it is the warmest we've been in a while now.

streamed~

Submitted by Esker on Tue, 2015-03-03 08:40

aloft alone
purgatory in its sincere blue
the cold so true

curvature
and statue stealth
the cities steam
with common wealth

I've yet
to turn over
I've yet to stir the dog
dreaming at my feet
while others have
gone
started shifts
driven cars
tested the cold
that grips the land
for months and
days

Paul

Submitted by China Blue on Tue, 2015-03-03 06:58

Come join the fun
Of wishing the one
that leads us all
His name is Paul

HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!!!!!!!!!!

Never unpublish poetry

Submitted by lovedly on Tue, 2015-03-03 00:32

All _my dear sublimes
I would by now
be a cold black coal mine
So don’t think of yourself less
Others don't understand you
as much as they ought to
let that be a calculated guess
let the poetry stay

does one kill an autistic child?
no way
I profess
keep yourself running
in the composing process

So far so many decades have lapsed
but the poet in me
has yet not collapsed....
despite some who wished it!

The Mosquito - a bit of fun

Submitted by Rula on Mon, 2015-03-02 23:33

a mosquito visited my bed last night
it sucked my thoughts

now it must be dead

FORBIDDEN WAY (March contest)

Submitted by scribbler on Mon, 2015-03-02 16:09

I'll never walk that way again,
in bottoms drowned by this new lake
unless I sprout both gill and fin
a change I guess I'll never make.

I picture the flat plain once there;
I'll never walk that way again,
with legs which took me everywhere,
which conquered hill and stream and glen.

I remember times there with passed kin,
this plain now barred to halting tred.
I'll never walk that way again
with loved ones gone to final bed.

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