Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

The Complete Poem- Start to Finish workshop

This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.

Cacophony (Complete Poem- Start to Finish WS)

Bleary, blurry eyes,
Stuffy, red nose.
Dragging the legs,
with numbing toes.

Woozy head's dizzy,
sneezin' and sneezin'.
Fevered body's tizzy,
wheezin' and wheezin'.

Please don't start,
not all this pain,
Please don't start,
not the flu again!

Facing Limitations

This is getting nowhere
my mind is still a blank
don't know what to write yet
I'm stuck!
what's the word that's right now?
how do I describe IT?
complications due to limitations
brings forth tension

I cried out in frustration
staring at the screen like a fool
Need to break away for awhile
so I stand before the mirror
and make funny faces
laughing at myself.
Poor me, I can't be
as good as Rula, Mand, Raj and Ian

Broken

A child is taken away from her family,
stripped of her sense of security,
her innocence ripped away by servants of greed
as they turned her life into a living nightmare,
forcing her into the filthy trade of the flesh.
Shackled by the lusts of men
she is caged by her own fears....

Without her freedom, she is only a slave
with a broken will,
scarred for life, forever.....

Neglected Apple (Complete Poem W/S)

While idly wandering
eating an apple
I remembered my friends
and had to grapple
with the needs of time
and perhaps make amends

We were supposed to meet
at the aquarium
to see the sharks
near the eclectic eels
I made utmost haste,
alas too late
‘twas the eels fault
their electric jolt,
had messed my internal clock
(normally kept in my sock)
it was now past ten
missed them then.

Papa autumn wears a cloak
of yellow, gold and red.
A gust of winter whispers
to rest his weary head.

He sheds his outer garment,
which scatters on the floor.
It's then he yields to slumber
and soon begins to snore.

His garb is spread in shambles
across the forest glade,
bejewelled with frosted crystals
where shafts of light cascade.

A chubby dormouse nestles
with nuts around his chest,
he's hiding snug and cosy
inside his woven nest.

Threnody

Cracked glass
unmelted beneath
a blackened sky,
Where to begin
on such a day?

She died.

What to say,
about such a life?
Rose red petals
wilting out on the floor.

So promising, yet so forgotten.

Regret is a tempest,
tearing at the soul,
a path of self-loathing
and destruction left behind.

She loved him
like no other,
saw the good
through the bad.

Loved without a price.

Lilies ...

I noticed that
even in death
lilies held beauty,
arched to one side,
white petals
glistened in the light

There were poems
in their drooping folds.
I reached into a void.
They cascaded
onto my fingers,
draping velum
across my hands.

Words seeped
into my skin
filling my veins,
they flooded my form.
A thousand sighs of awe
fell from my lips.

Whistling A Chinese Song (Complete Poem WS Edit 3)

(Also With Title Revised from the original "Sing because you have a song)
(This Edit #3 has punctuation errors corrected, thanks to detailed scrutiny by Wesley)

Fastening my seat belt
whistling a Chinese song,
I'm ready to steer
my second hand car.

Windshield though cracked
will let in fresh air,
bonnet made of steel
wearing red oxide scales.

The tires may have aged
over some bumpy rides,
but the battery is almost new;
will last me many miles.

IN JANUARY

The new year is days now in the past
and rush of holidays is gone
while winter's heart approaches fast
with white frost greeting every dawn.

I snug my hat on old bare head,
hunch shoulders in my thick wool coat.
Instead of warm I'm far from bed
where breaths of chill air burn my throat.

That same breeze sighs through the hardwood
and hushes sounds among the pines.
I'll not walk as far as I once could
and keep alert for tripping vines.

When They Come Asking

It's been a while since I talked
with someone who wanted to listen,
told them of all the useless
things I could think of to fill
the time,
those days have long since dogeared
there are vignettes on the edges
of the frame, rust, rat bites,
the colours aren't vivid anymore,
except the smiles,
those will last a while, I think,
before they too are rubbed
off by neglect.

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.