Best Concocts Poems

Once the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Whence the winter woke me when the third was three in number.

I sense that a wince doth lurk and wear which wicked gaze,
Of conniving shadows cast between my bedroom windowpanes.

I try to sit up from the fluff...

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"Wondrous" this dynamic group,
That concocts their hearty poetic soup,
Then sit, then wait, always polite,
For comments that the others write.

But lofty are artistic goals,
As we bear our hearts and expose our souls,
And catapulted into heaven,
When we receive that cherished rate of "seven".

A "six" is like a...

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Thrice the night—the day!—both fell to sleepless slumber,
But now in Spring, though yet again: The third was three in number. 

I sense a wince remind itself,
Of what it means to be,
Instead to beg for booked shelf,
To see without a key.

A wince doth lurk wearing which...

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I prefer them a bit tattered and tired. 
(a slow lick on a hard knife edge).
A midnight she cat, sparkling like a pinwheel.
The one that make you obsess,
why they're one hour and-five minutes late.
Why their mascara is off center.
Why they have that strange strong scent.

I...

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Alone with my thoughts-
My Mind concocts
A thousand, million, billion dots
Connecting through my Brain

Colors spread through the depths of my Head
Then I wondered, "Am I dead?"
For no one ever said-
The Truth could hold such pain!

*An old experimental type piece written on LSD; the rhymes are meant...

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To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature,
embracing truth as only reflection can hold.
While our mind concocts fastidious pleasure,
in search of mottled excuses bent to unfold.

Some threaten openly, words of censure,
hurled against the family tree displayed therein.
Yet which innocent, casts with stoic composure,
a stone...

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A wince doth lurk wearing which wicked gaze,
Of conniving cast shadows ‘tween my windowpanes.

Gazing through the window’s diaphanous gelid glass, 
I see a flushing fluorescent misty haze of frothy brass.

It floats aloft the frost of the frigid Winter floor, 
Stirring cirrus shadow limbs of a...

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Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows show to those whose senses could. 

Turning my head to...

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I ask not who is king; I tell you all
it’s he who stirs the pot of darkest dreams,
whose genius then concocts tales that enthrall
his faithful fans, who relish silent screams
and feeling (underneath King’s spell) flesh crawl!

Andrea Dietrich/ Dec. 27, 2009

For Brian Strand's contest: A Literary...

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Brick House  

We call them bricks. 
Cold, hard and clueless. 
Stacked together, creating a thick wall of ignorance. 
Unwilling to learn, resistant to change, 
Eyes dull and confused, 
with faces as dry as the day before. 
Dragging themselves to their designated seats, 
not expecting...

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Denouement

The plot thickens broadens in plastered confused juxtapositions
over time there and then weaves tapestries lost unfound caught

Viscous tears dried out shed rivers searching oases oceans of love
squeeze suffering hatred solid misconceptions scripted resolve 

Crocheted dreams unsnarled in disguise colour rainbows stain-bows
stain blows and arrows offer...

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I smell the fragrance of love
On the bed of crimson roses
Memories of thee beguiles me
And million emotions my heart encloses

Those eternal love-filled hours
Feel yet to be so few
Oh Love! Rush down my core
As this heart concocts the brew

Silent I lay beside you, all cuddled up
That...

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Unidentified my world
this push and shove battalion
take from them and leave them broken

Crassly ridiculed by viral industries
black blood automaton
the throwaway plagues of economy

Enemies arduous in pestilence promise
digital demons disposable to pay the fist
take from my brothers and leave my sisters bereft

Born to breath into not...

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A wizard drops his briefcase and he’s
late again to the mystical gig!
Knocks into a green-fur dragon
milling about, smoking a cig.

Stupid dwarf, he double parked!
In the cab, he holds his nose 
(a potent spell to fend against
the rancid smell of dandruff and booze).

He slips on hay...

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The heart within pumps
The rich red royal fluid
And your body machine functions
Your creative, expansive mind
Concocts formulae
Deciding how your body organism 
Finds sustenance, enjoyment
And most of all avoids pain

The dreamer, you, perceive, create
As you build, block by block
To accomplish
To reap rewards
As you move
Ship, build, design, experience
On...

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