Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Reaching

Slippers sneaked pillows through cantelope floors while
Filling my muscles through ocean cream doors in the
Hopes of revisiting whales through snores washing
Snorkels of tuna through cavity shores as I
Fished up my snorkel with cantelope fins and went on
Breathing under tomatoes and gin hiding
Sandwiches hidden in snorkels of fear with the
Snores whale watching in oceans of tears when the
Tridents went hiding my spine with my spleen while
Watching my canvas in case I turned mean but I
Spun on my spleen and I tickled my spine and I
Puckered my lips when the shores came benign in my
Mind I re-camphored the floor from below when the
Hopes of tommorrow filled icing with snow in
Depressing my dreams I reflected awake while
Smelling of camphor collecting in cake in
The fields of birthdays nor slumber nor wake in the
Shadowlands wandering giving and take till
Depression fills in as I'm filling myself with all
Sugars and salts in the freezer and shelf till I
Exercise demons to flush them away thinking
Controlled temptation the very best way with
Community calling and searching me out when
I'm outside myself as I flop like a trout while
Resting and working I'm trying awake in the
Flowing and flopping to communicate through the
Ice floes of time and the sunny day thoughts and the
Haywire thinking that gives me distraughts as I
Reach out my room reaching outside myself as my
Reality reaches outside my shelf.

Denis Streeter 5/23/10

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Fickled foughts of funny

This is a fun nonsense tongue twisting piece I wrote last year that I still enjoy reading aloud.

The tilted bed inside my head reverted inside out
I led the peas of twisted keys outside my door to pout
The cheese of keys were made to please the sunny days too cold
Too cold too old too oversold too bottom blistered bold
Too bold to bother badder batter batting balls in buns
In bunning batter bawling badder pickled peckled puns
The puns the ones of pampered sons sent sickles signing south
The south the mouth the truth comes outh I know I asked a trouth
A trouth a tribble bent a nibble bounding by a bite
A bite a bibble senseless tribble bible bounding bike
The biking bending bible biting kiting kicking cur
Bowed bumblingly but bibley concurred to call me sir
To call me sir I must concur bent bibled beds aside
Aside to hide I must confide to please formaldehyde
To please formaldehyde tis said depends on your preserve
Preserve deserve some kind hors d'oeuvre consuming to conserve
Reserve preserve this final verve by bilking milk and honey
I senseless serve some pun preserve in fickled foughts of funny.

Denis Streeter

Friday, May 14, 2010

Denisian Press

This is an experiment for me...and the first blog I've ever set up. What you will see is poetry, comments on books, my current state of mind...and I'd love to hear comments from you...but be nice...