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April 2024 Contest Winners

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

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.

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.

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Copper Head,

Copper Head…

Copper head in a classroom of dummies,
mother forgot to pack the yummie’s.
Shit! I’ll have some fun,
when I shows them my gun.
And the bullets empty their tummy’s.

Outside he meets the maths teacher,
bullets don't take long to reach her.
All those kids hid in the stores,
but my bullets take out the doors.
Here comes the soon to be dead preacher.

The Spoiled Light

I'm not a number
I'm a fool man
in a cell
a divisive construction
my eyes were peeled
cursed and bared
perverse to have cared
I may stumble blindly
to the food hole
but I can see alright
don't you think I cant see

86*****F r e t a ************

Running dark against the grey
the linen of her trench
as dark as the mourners
along the graves
the oil of the old miners lamps
worn dull by the rains
Mouth set..heart brave

Eyes the color of the stones
in the glacial lake
mute soft the pupil
large like a lame
knib bleeding india
ink
a blue green
against the tiger
shade
of the long hair
from her crown
her tall head

Violets Lipstick Rose

Full Metal Limerick

I met a young GI in a bar
why do they hate us so far?
I held back no hate
he gagged on my bait
the whole world is your weeping scar.

I could be torn apart by a wild boar
or dissected by a jealous whore
but cancer will not get a chance
I will not play that sickly dance
A gun will splatter the deadly gore.

My entire life is full of strife
the violence is unbearably rife
the scent of the blood
has become a flood
more than a gun or a knife.

Can you make a limerick serious?

1.
You can tear my clothes, if you wish
Rape me too that’s what you like to fish
But play safe use a bloody condom
Don’t go about fucking at random
Our concoction will make a relishing dish

2.
She looked at me in broad day light
With eyes as wide open as a kite
She smelled the odour I issued
Then wanted me to be sued
Did she know might is right?

OLD SILENCE

A full moon peeks through the sliding door
on this calm clear autumn night
and reflects off of the hardwood floor
showing a too familiar site.

"The Big Bang Theory" on T.V.
an old episode being rerun
and we watch it only haltingly
on another evening well begun.

For we're both occupied with other things,
in a King novel you're nearly lost
within the story that it brings
while I sit with pen and think of Frost.

The Poet's Words (with spoken word)(Limerick WS)

Whatever the poets would write,
if dark or those of delight,
they must affect,
and well reflect,
for the blind and the one with sight.

https://soundcloud.com/rula68/the-poets-words-1

Deadpan (Serious Limmerick WS)

Eyes open sunken and blank
as if fate had pulled a prank
eyeballs in rubor
pupils in tumor
sans any tear in their bank

An eye for a heart

I sat ever so silently,
Not a whisper escaping my soul.
What's true-
Might not always be reality,
Nothing is ever built whole.
I watched the birds fly,
All across the deep azure-
Of the sky,
Circling in depth of my eyes-
And then I realized,
I was staring at an ocean.

Another Friday Night

She sat inside her ice-cream life
and guessed the number of
bingo markers it might take
to win the jackpot.
Sometimes she questioned why
so many people drove her
crazy. Insulted her.
She divided her friends and lovers
into good and bad directions.

It was raining outside when
she began to cook the supper.
The stove was hot she was cold.
She was always cold in her house,
in her ice vein kitchen with
the pretty white lace curtains
and the yellow-green walls.

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