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 stream (all workshops)

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


Would gnomes succumb to drones?

a pebble in the pond caused ripples
a stone hurled at a tree killed a bird
a catapult made an enemy of a friend
soon a border turned friends into foes

can we turn the tide back to ripples?
yes only if we want to, but don't seem to

the ism of isms is egoism
peace is torn into pieces
life is cheaper than a dime
love getting lost in crime

in a generation of clones and drones
would the world be shy of gnomes?

harmony symphony and poetry

In love there's harmony
in music it's only symphony
in poetry 'tis only Lovedly

signs and sighs of simplicity
intent/intense brevity

what is poetry.......................

poetry is simple emotion
as it effervesces from anyone
from a poet to a reader
though not all.

(poetry is real emotion
as it effervesces
from a poet to a reader
or not all.) -----------------------needs an amendment any suggestions


Bound at home too many days
by temporary infirmity
watching tube until eyes glaze
I think of days that used to be......

For the first time in many years
just as a nap overtook me
memory returned by ancient gears
of a trail that used to be.

So when I was at last set free
I decided to check if it still went its wild way
thus in my old truck I went to see
on this cold clear late winter day.

Rialto REM

The Rialto Theater was ugly brick
Dirt washed concrete from exhaust did then stick
Expresso Pizza is still a hang out
For the longest time, best pizza no doubt

Rialto was busy that Friday night
Insides decorated in black and white
To sit center of the musty theater
Soon to be sold by James Hill the realtor

From the right room corner came flashing light
Soon obvious, a fire causing fright
Everyone running and stumbling, a mess
Now in comfort and so thinking to bless

Clowns and the Phantoms of Privilege

Hesitating to even patron the local library I grew up reading books in, I decided one day to risk it, keeping my wallet down in the deep, long reaches of my pocket.
A man with a glassy salamander stare was rocking back and forth back near a section once made up of high minded French Literature, his tongue extending to the sticky, ruined table, the whole pulpy mass covered with ladybugs. Most of the good books belonged to other libraries. There were small, gold wreathed funeral cards for the books gone missing.
The patrons were, though, mostly worn out looking clowns.

Seven Days of Rain and Blue Roses

Blue roses and white polka dots on my umbrella
help me to survive the boredom of the flood.
To some it may sound like an adventure
but it is only seven long days of rain, thunderstorms,
creek swelling and cursing louder than birds.

Cars raising water-wings whoosh by me.
Time has stuck somewhere far ahead
leaving in the play-doh of days
an inch deep prints – hoofs and paws.

Algae mount on front lawns.
Old oaks crack joints – rheumatism in the twigs.
I stay mostly indoors,
even planted maple seeds in a shoe box.

Punctuated Life [Sunku]

keep me going

I hate
to live in

my keys
in life are
shift and press 1

The Reality Coach

so I'm a hard ass
gruff and blunt
but I don't lie
or prevaricate

why call that mean

truth comes in words
or consequences

would you rather
make a fool of yourself
or have me school you
so you don't

it's up to you
but I already know
there will be
tears and tantrums
either way

give me a hug

and let's get back to work

TO NSONGURUA (June Contest)

Your eyes they have this light,
The shine of a thousand star,
Why do you shame the moon at night?
I see their glares are not up to per.

Will you 'pon this ragged bed lay,
To cuddle this cloned lonely bone?
I would, lost in thy bosom humbly stay,
But who am I a queenly dame own.

Oh, smile my princess,
How thy teeth sprightly seamer its glitters!
To thy beauty I'm one of many witnesses,
You outshine the galaxy of a million stars.


We may feel like we’re unconnected
Pieces floating
Like broken planets
Without a sun
Like disassociated
Shattered shards
But maybe there is a bigger picture

Perhaps someone or something
Is twirling the kaleidoscope
Getting pleasure
Out of the surprising
The chaos
Made into order


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