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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.

 

MOODS AND STYROFOAM CUPS

MOODS

I feel like a strawberry shake
left out in the rain
too watered down
to shake anymore
for anyone.

I feel like a warm
glass of beer
left in the sun
all suds gone
a drink unthinkable .

I feel like a Nathan’s frank
on a stale bun,
A bumble bee
stripes that run
vertically

A styrofoam cup
cigarette butts
soaking in its mud
no use
in any way.

I feel like me today.

saliva

in the youth of flame
mouths water like dogs
panting in the open
to satiate ones wants
pangs of hunger
pants the human tiger

then as age moves on
the hard core goes strong
till it suddenly wanes
and
then you feel age catches,

Being (mindful-memorable-freeform-challenge)

Being

Nowhere does the sun feel as good
Nowhere does the wind blow as gently
Than in the heart of a peace loving man.

Ian.T
1957

Cajun Killer Cooking...

Night air of cooling dampness
Brushes Killer’s face
Searching for new recipes
He’s in this dim lit place

There is a voodoo princess
Better cook than all the rest
Long pig’s her only specialty
Her roasts are just the best

She’s agreed to meet him here
Kitchen, Sacre Bleu Hotel
It is the stroke of midnight
‘Tis black here as a well

He feels a presence enter
Candles begin to glow
She appears before him suddenly
I come, giving what I know

Impuzzlement

Still in the vicinity
where l rest my weary head,
l weep to our shared morning,
where l'd be better off dead.

l'm sad for this impuzzlement,
why won't the pieces fit?
what could the theives true motive be
to take my little bit?

I tread not, near the shadows
for they hide what l can't see;
plus, they do their best to convince my heart
that it's because of me!

WHERE ARE YOU ? (memorable free form final entry)

Where now are the men of peace ?
I want to scream and shout
Who pleads for calm in crowded cities
urging mobs to stop and think
if their God approves

For now is the time for all brothers
regardless of their birth or faith
to unite against barbarian fanatics
and let them know..ENOUGH!

Tell them that they are not Godly
at least not to any God we love
they are no ally to Allah
no followers of Christ
no friend to Buddah
no believer in any True religion

a foolishness

blithely adding to
and making reduction of
the population
which invented Zeus
those high living gods
of old Olympus
asked for sacrifice, destruction

uncaring

until their creators
voted
against them

we read of
their downfall
their flaws

for mankind finally wrote into
the history of myth
mishaps of
no-longer-wanted-deities
(deciding, perhaps
one god would do)
and had them annihilated
in a heavenly war

dialysis what !

he
is still on dialysis
but kith and kin don't know
when to let him go
hope God
helps them ...

the finale none know
not you... nor I...
no doc too
heaven is too busy...
we always knew
and
if there is a God
of which I have reservations....
I’m quite sure he has 7.5 billion
in the ICU
we call the world...
and
I only wish that ailing humanity
Came with life to terms
all we need is
a switch off
switch
but then who will?

E R G O M A N I A .. S U P I N E N E S S

hair spun in the weave of air
we are rushing in the last of summer breath
our landscape climb
like a wave primed

dark and hungry as the night
while sunlight scatters
at its edge
that races

a great weight
chasing us in dreams

I hear the cry through all
the miles
and hold my breath
awake
waiting for the fall
like snow breaking free of a tin
roof

Our avalanche of words
frothing
we place palm up
to catch the rain

Neopoet Renga 2

Summer storms have passed
autumn is on the doorstep
falling leaves arrive

Holding our sweet creamy dreams
let them not shatter on floor

Trust dreams quiescent
muse remaining autumn scene
more timely imbue

Dreams of cluttered entrances
pumpkin head scarecrows, cobwebs

Meadows glowing gold
harvest moon drifts slowly by
sunsets of our dreams

Cool evenings sweet serenade
children kick the fallen leaves

Adolescents roll
windbreakers breaking dry leaves
innocent first kiss

Workshop: 

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