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April 2024 Contest Winners

Submitted by neopoet contests on Tue, 2024-04-30 20:38

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

Submitted by Apostolos "Paul... on Mon, 2024-04-29 23:58

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.

Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/21/24 to 04/27/24 Contest Winner!

Submitted by neopoet contests on Sat, 2024-04-27 23:40

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.

20 April Neopoet Weekly Contest 04/14/24 to 04/20/24 Winner!
13 April Neopoet Weekly Contest Winer 04/07/24 to 04/13/24
6 April Neopoet Weekly 03/31/24 to 04/06/24 Winner!
31 March March 2024 Contest Winners!
View all community news

The stream (all workshops)

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

 

FAREWELL

Submitted by scribbler on Tue, 2011-12-13 22:30

All somber, those who stand around
this wound cut deep into the ground
beside a box so square and stout
as if they fear you might get out
but from this casket there's no sound.

The preacher murmurs on unheard.
My attention's fixed upon a bird,
a hawk soaring nearly out of sight
within a sky so clear and bright
as if nothing special had occurred.

COME TO CHURCH

Submitted by t. reflexion on Tue, 2011-12-13 20:25

After moribund years of misery
An exerting care cautiously put
To seek fellowship in the sanctuary
And rest my burden with open door
A querying way asked the why
Not obliged to give a try
But for the gratitude and respect
Troubled self bereft of answers
For the tools to tackle the mundane

Elle

Submitted by Esker on Tue, 2011-12-13 18:29

cargo lithe
this spirit flesh
evolution
excites like a winter surge

rakish falls the day behind
drab torn fountian clouds
cold and pallid

pour the fire from decanters
throat
and let slip ambrosia
passage

Tottensonnetag

let night find us
drowsy with angel touch
let the black winged wind
play its orchestra

and the moon shall ferry
the lost

The Rise and Fall of Poetry

Submitted by jove on Tue, 2011-12-13 12:22

When men were somewhat odeivorious,
a little less carnivorous,
softer and more chivalrous,
poetry had it's day.

Women then, were swayed by this,
upon such poets, plied their kiss,
which sent them into poets' bliss;
oh those days are surely missed!

In the closet now we hide.
Abandoned is our poets pride.
We now hold it all inside,
lest they catch us as we cry !

the remembering

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Tue, 2011-12-13 06:56

I love you
only because angels have wings
and death is too heavy to carry
the remembering,

we fly
you and I,
old soldiers clashing now and then
on the battlefield of perception,
fucking age from our bodies,
wild with monsoons, cherry blossoms
and the savage moon

Death and the soliloquy

Submitted by Bloodstone on Tue, 2011-12-13 00:53

Death and the soliloquy, turn a blind eye.
Side the heavens till morn, ever riding...
The hills converse a warning;
Eternity’s change of robes, fray,
Friar’s tongue decays to feed the rising earth.
Water of the sea ascend, frothing, vaporising,
Hues to view prismatic reality.
Survival of the fit, write to dust
Which hardens to stone,
Hence weathered lessons and eroded teachings,
Meet the sea, ascend once more and again

the true nature of shoes

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Mon, 2011-12-12 08:30

I remember Kruschev pounding his shoe at the UN,
the heckler throwing his at Bush,
it's a good thing some folks have shoes
it's a better thing to know the shoes of the fisherman
are on loan to anyone who will wear them.

The scorpion's nature is to sting
the frog that would carry him across the lake,

Both die in the end.

Narrative Poem: As He Sat Sadly By Her Side

Submitted by MichelleK on Mon, 2011-12-12 04:25

I

He’d sat calmly by her side
while the tulips rotted
and the dust settled.
For weeks he hadn’t moved
the sores did blister
on his buttocks and thighs.

He’d sat sadly by her side
as the worms were born
and wriggled in her eyes.
The open note
lay yellowed next to the Virgin
unread and retired
scattered with dried potpourri

I DO NOT BLAME YOU

Submitted by t. reflexion on Sun, 2011-12-11 21:31

I heard you insulted our kind
We are born like everyone else
Of a woman, to this world
White amongst the black race

I do not blame your ignorance
You say the blacks that pray to God
To reincarnate as Arian white
Will be born as albinos’

You are wrong, very wrong
Things do not work that way
Where we are born and how
A mystery you’ll never know

I cover my head from burning sun
This makes you think I am inferior
I stay in front of the class
In order to see the board clearly

Oh my love

Submitted by Gentle Storm on Sun, 2011-12-11 20:41

This cliche teenage heart drums in rhythm with the pounding and rushing and whirring of the world surrounding me. Trapped within a cage of skin and bone, throbbing to be free, begging to be let go.
I can't escape and these bonds won't break. I'm stuck within this conforming body and doomed to become just another dying soul.
Crimson on the inside and full of vibrant life,
yet slowly fading, unable to break the rhythm,
my heart constantly bleeding, steadily beating
sending more scarlet through my veins.

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