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Neopoet Weekly 05/05/24 to 05/11/24 Winner!

This week the Neopoem is

Ways of loving by  Terumi Sakurai

Let us congratulate Terumi Sakurai on their first win as a neopoet member.

About Contests

There have been some changes to the about contest page
To take a look visit
https://www.neopoet.com/contest/program-description-and-guidelines

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Winner!

The winning poem of the

Poetry Month 2024 Imagine is

 Backwards by  Carrie

Congratulations to Carrie on such a unique poem.

 

This week the Neopoem is

 

  My Heart, My Heaven by Izzi Reinier

 

Let us congratulate Izzi Reinier on another contest win as a neopoet member.

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!

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

Evermore

You asked me,
"why do you cry?"
I replied,
"only the sky knows this",
you said,
"you require the blue
of day to fade?"
I replied,
"it began at dawn."

---

each day
my lead wears down
when fingers
scribble with a stub
will anything remain
of me to write?
or will iron
seep into my veins
and my finger take over
marking lines
in steel

Gone , I say and walk from church,
As the stiff body embraces the grave
letting the dead cool at the hearse
it is Jun, battling the sun is being brave

We turn to the Cape, I cultivate
myself a sacred melody from the sky
where the sea bangs like an iron gate
and we touch. In this way people die.

My darling, the wind has often blown
from the raging water and when we touch
we lose the touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for such

"Another talk"

What shall I talk of, to you this evening?
Paltry little items to waste both our time's
Epic things to stir your shallow interest
No I just want to see you for what you are

What the hell do you want of me
Alright you need to know of my ways
That's a laugh as I can't relate to those
I think at an instants whim so what's next

Too much has passed my eyes to this day
To tell you in a few words, would fail both of us
You in your understanding of my ways,
and me in a feeling of being understated

r e g a l i a t t a

torch twist
focus on the edges
voices a grey sliver whisper
straddling oceans of quiet
indifference

apart by songs

discordant
fingerprints
on the dust glean

you sigh
i wish
that like snowflakes
we could
be closer
then
a million twins

Forewarning

Forewarning

Shadowed talons reaching for the basement
trapped by pale politicos above
southern culture lost to cold indifference
strangles the hypocrisy of love

clinging to society is fruitless
when savagery’s accepted as the norm
black and white are shades completely empty
and little children grow to fit the form

ephemeral blaze

save for the pardonable,
leopard spots
forever inclined
knit over the dole
peregrine blanch
at speeds deduction,
why tell tales
processions metallic
into cumber cloud crashed
velocity's vapour, i?

In God’s company!

I'll carry on till i can …..or till they carry me away …..
Time and tide wait
for no man
ME or not ...for who else it can

Drifting thought

Sitting here on a coach
I am going back home
Wonder if it will be the same
Carrying my thoughts true

Memories pas by each moment
Green pastures on the other side
Small roads holding me
I use to live around here

What is home now?
Years have flowed on
Home has drifted away
A place to be that’s me

The arms that held me
They seem distant now
Who holds my ways
Where is the truth I ask

Passing by

Everyday passing by
Going tik tok
Playing face, telling lies
Give mock
Never coming near don't
Ring ring
Don't knock

INCIDENT by Countee Cullen (Stans Imagery Workshop)

Once walking in old Baltimore
Heart-free, soul-filled with glee
I saw a Baltimorean
was looking back at me

Now I was eight and very shy
and he was no mud digger
and so I smiled, but he poked out
his tongue and named me Nigger

I saw no more of Baltimore
from then until December
of all the things that happened here
that's all I remember

----

INCIDENT by Countee Cullen

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