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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.

 

Imaginary Imagery

Imaginary Imagery

Continue to bask
in your lovely imagery
why delve in misery

There is nothing beyond what is here
the distant horizon
but live in hopes to have children in heaven
all is your own imagination

This young bard
says no more
than what one ought to know

Life is here only
all else is just
illusive and imaginary
Time pass if you will

Who am I to in you, knowledge instil
'tis thy own will

The Columns

I’ve been shooting at stars

in lazy floods

all day in this Rapture

hoping I strike a piece

of you so it will fall in toy diamond,

citrate frost, something I can chew on.

Your braided dream lilies looped

together with dowsing rods crafted

by an alchemist in a deleted scene

from a shelved noir.

For this space ordained

you, this panel graffiti in obsidian marker,

the confessional alarm

in your belly button,

and your bitten lilypad

I Hope...

The most important people are
my family and friends, they are my life
I try so hard to be positive around them
but I'm feeling weird, something isn't right

I'm OK sometimes, but mostly....
There are times when I get a good start
I get things done
Then it's right back to feeling unsure
not knowing what to do

I am so proud of my kids, I love them
They seem proud of me too, but I'm not sure
I think about what I should have done
differently....

Picnic Time

A time when louder
than taut drums our hearts would
as one beat and in the deepest sea of
revelry swim.

A time when my ravenous
heart with scythe in hand, its feet
to your heart as a bed of roses would hasten,
for its fragrance to harvest and relish.

A time in a sequestered scenic
rivulet bank where my somber heart into an
ecstatic inferno would be plunged by a sensation
that would be propelled by the sight of outlines of your
sexy lingerie by your spandex bared.

Refugee Mother And Child by Chinua Achebe

No Madonna and Child could touch
that picture of a mother's tenderness
for a son she soon would have to forget.
The air was heavy with odours

of diarrhoea of unwashed children
with washed-out ribs and dried-up
bottoms struggling in laboured
steps behind blown empty bellies. Most

mothers there had long ceased
to care but not this one; she held
a ghost smile between her teeth
and in her eyes the ghost of a mother's
pride as she combed the rust-coloured
hair left on his skull and then -

Photosynthesis

Jasmine flowers exhale
perfume along mossen lattice sanctuary
We smell the sweet sighs
but only bumblebees hear
the oxygen escape their silken throats

Malicious Envy.

Hatred is malicious envy's anchorage,
on same path they tread to smudge,
dull friendship's glistening hue,
to bring down its lofty value.

Evilness is first conceived in the mind.
An envious mind is a mind unsound,
in it, pique, devilries even more reside.
Warily our thoughts we must daily guide.

Bonds of friendship envy makes brittle,
its strong walls slowly it brickles
shortly beneath its weight they crumble,
and become irreparable rubble.

Who are WE

'SELF PRAISE'

''You make many a heart throb
you have the sleep of many robbed
how dare you sleep as all are awake
knocking at your lovely gate

After you have abandoned the world
you will not know what we would miss
as you eternally sleep

till such a time comes your way
Dear poets of all time

We all request you to stay''

THE ESSENCE OF WHO ARE WE

When we depart
(But my study of the Human Mind over decades tells me and you may of course disagree)

For Esker

We spoke in verse
A language unique to us
Dancing through the darkness
Dust to dust

Through lyric and rhyme;
Once upon a time, we were close
Your wisdom and experience
I will always treasure

Journey on, dear Mr. Wolf
May your passage be well
Fly high with flowing ink
In the sky, write on, fly high

Until we meet again….

Return

The town met me with
a homeless smile
that flew above the toothless tunnels,
a moth uncertain where to crash,
 too many lanterns,

a trail of traffic lights
 reflected in splashed puddles,
green rivers
lying flat under my tires,

clock towers and clouds 
of glowing golden spray
around every car,

tall buildings, small benches,
dog parks… 

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