Congratulations to all our winners!

The winner of  the  11/24 Dark Times contest is  Anna Severchuk

Hope

Somewhere along the way, the system was broken,
Leaving hearts cold, and dreams unspoken.
Yet, in the darkness, a whisper starts,
A flicker of hope, that warms our hearts.
For though the path ahead seems bleak and dire,
There’s still a spark, a flickering fire.

We hope you can still hear us, God,
Because humanity is lost, in a sea of mud.
The air grew thick with sorrow’s sting,
A broken song, the echoes cling.
We search for light, in the shadows deep,
And vow to mend the wounds we keep.
For beauty still exists, though hidden now,
And hope for a better tomorrow, somehow.

The Winner of the  Neopoet Weekly 11/24/24 to 11/30/24 contest is  Angie S

Dear, dad

I want to thank you for all the empty promises,
for the hot air full of birthday wishes.
Living vicariously through daddy-daughter dates
how I wondered how it felt to be daddy’s princess,
to be the apple of your eye: your first concern and interest
is something I desperately yearned for.

I want to thank you for giving mom love
with your violent, fistful hug.
Where I saw smiles, you gave indifferent shrugs.
Where I saw kindness and affection, you gave dishonesty and mistrust.
If speaking was a form of communication, silence was echoed in our house.
We were different from others.

Primary school was my solace,
I kept away from boys; trauma is a dark place.
‘Fake it till you make it’, I put on my happy face.
Reading was my favourite escape.
The screeching arguing, that always escalated.
I matured before my prime, my childish state eaten.

High school was my slow internal detonation.
A withering flower, I was nearing self-destruction.
We spoke less and less, there was no connection.
I slept more and more, drowning in depression.
Self-loathing, I fed myself to a slice of masochism,
telling myself I’d never become a victim.

You’ve taught me independence and resilience,
Like a Hitler recruit I fought with resistance
not to be filled with hate, anger and impatience.
I can see unrequited love with no compassion.
And when I do, it’s to you I give salutation.

Thank you, dad.

The Winner of the 11/24 My Muse Is A Rat  challenge is Michael Keens

A Bard's Bad Luck

Sing to me Muse, of a day of your choosing
I hope it’s not rude, but somewhat amusing
We’ve all travelled far and await in suspense
As your bard I now ask, please commence.

The day was short but the sun still hot
A sundial displayed it was one o’clock
What happened that day was enough to shock
An Athenian man stole a cow and time stopped.

Helios’ rage on that short summer’s day
Had him fuming and musing over who should then pay
I alone know the culprit and surely, I’ll say
He is a giant in size with a scar on his face.

The scar in question is the shape of a bull
Six inches wide and not equally tall
It’s said he’s gifted with words and tells stories to all
And rarely goes hungry so is usually full.

Well, it may seem that my Muse is a rat
I have that scar on my face and I’m more than quite fat
Yes, I travel and talk and write as I walk
But muses can lie through their teeth, with eyes of a hawk.

The winner of the 11/24 Just One Beer challenge is Merlicka

The downward spiral

Incoherent chatter
24 pack almost done
Staring blankly at the dawn
Another bottle in his hand

Such a beautiful life diminished
Lost hope, great despair
A slow descent through darkness,
Sadly commenced by
Just one beer.

One beer turned into many
Like a fountain, watch them flow
Rushing down like a torrent
His count, he doesn't know

Life's now a drag, no more ambition
He ponders defeatedly "how did i get here?"
Sadly realizing it started with the decision
Of having
just one beer

The Winner of the 11/24 Long Car Ride is Geezer

Dreary day, long ride...

Dreary day, on the thruway...
Sitting in Auntie Jean's '66 Bronze Barracuda fast-back,
radio plays softly, pop-Christmas stuff.
Long silence to a retreat for me; long drive.

Speaking out of the side of her face, [she had a way of that.]
She asked, "Are you so very sad that you lost the sight of your eye?"
Briefly, I saw that "Caswell" trait that she shared with my father.
A clearest blue, steadiest steel, and you knew that you would get the truth of whatever you heard. We all have it; the eye. Must be that Romney-gypsy blood.
"Yes, I am but more than that, I am glad that I still have one good eye to see the world. Even the bleak, grey day full of rain on the thruway...