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Early Spring Image Prompt contest Winner!

The winning poem of the

Early Spring Image Prompt contest is

 The Visitor by  Mary Beth Magee

Congratulations to Mary Beth Magee on such a fine poem.

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.

 

Ray

Old friends after all these years.
Time lost, draws us near.
Like precious stones, from years past,
You lost your memory, your stones were cast.

Heaven didn't need you, on that grueling day,
When your truck veered astray.

Our path was broken, you wanted to remember,
To repair that which had been splintered.
I reminded you of each stone, how precious they were,
Like alabaster and myrrh.

I Am The Batman (Dramatic Verse Wes WS)

The years may have passed
but I'm still haunted by the past.
one which compels me to grow stronger
to strive until time turns me to dust
and another took my place
to lay the corrupted to waste.

Gotham is no longer the same heaven it used to be
it reeks with despair as parasites
suck the livelihood of the hepless innocents
,who have no strength to fight for their rights

A n g y a l ....................

synthetic our world
wrapped
like the glass
in the snow globe
precarious a balance
the growling station
its visage blazing
filling the room with
its violent light

dirty feet on cold carpets
sticky stains
and bottles with sideworlds
distorted
the door to the bathroom
canted
the shower a black wall
like a great tunnel
the winds surf full of crystal
snow in the cold
biting like a vampyre
the steeples
full of gargoyles guarding

No Need To Smoke

“Excuse me sir.
You shouldn’t smoke
Especially in the Subway!
Did you know last year
Approximately 450,000 people died
Prematurely from smoking
And related illnesses?”

“Hey listen lady
There’s like, 300 million people
In the United States
Which means my odds are nearly 1 / 600
I’ll be just fine.

Why don’t you quit your preaching
And use you’re random facts
For Jeopardy or something
I’ve been smoking my whole life
I’m doing just fine over here”

Haunted

Haunted

Solemn stares from recent dead occupy the now
drifting past the threshold of despair
alone, I ponder what their eyes are saying
fast and loose, beyond abuse, without quite knowing how,
bringing dreams of what they cannot share
but leaving silent clues that are dismaying

Elise(Dramatic Workshop Part Two)

Alise: What then shall I leave for you
when I am dead

Michael: The pillow beneath your lovely head
for it holds the essence of your tears
the lingering fragrance of your hair

Alise: Then take it now before I am gone
my plan is for my soul to go on

Michael: Do not speak of such horrid things
what would you like me to do with your rings

Alsie: Give them to your new love to be
from this moment on
I set you free

Killer Job... Storytelling in Dramatic Verse

A little bit of humor makes the job easier
if you know what I mean?

I sometimes make a bit of a joke to myself
when I kill someone.

Like the time I stuffed the electric-guitar
up this musician's ass and turned it on.

The way he tried to get away from it,
made me think of the way 'Elvis' swiveled
his hips as he sang and danced across the stage.

That put a smile to my lips and I danced a little
myself.

The time that I stapled the teller's lips together
at the bank was also a little joke.

A JOURNEY WITHOUT DESTINATION

Too far down the road
have we travelled
in too short a span of time
No turning back now
the engine has whirred
into motion

My innuendo
and subtle overtures
becoming more brazen
by the moment
your shy, awkward
and gently yielding responses
released race horses
into my blood

What started out as a
spark is now
an engulfing flame

My cup of erotica
offered to you
is mixed with uncertainty
and crawls
with guilt

D E I S E L dreadnought

steams while a grey steel shine
licks her shark lines
her thigh highs creaking
with each long circular sway
step in the haze of crow call
hills and dark plume gridlock
exhaust rising like deaths
perfume
sweet and bitter
like a purse buttered in melted
chocolates
perfume
full of its richness
and Almay
slathered in the tight stitching
the long strap
and sharp buckle
over a shoulder
and against a long
angular throat
the Carotid pulsing
like a wave
sensual

Bend down the Thames

I know the bend
down the Thames
where we met first time
and
you remember the bend
where it did end

and
we kissed
for the first time.

Tis ages past
the bends of rivers don't last
we both have walked by so fast
the end has been forgotten at last

the last time we met
twas at the end
the then permanent bend
twill be there till our end
meet me then there
before our end
dearest friend!

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