Overboard

Writing while the fires went out
Two by two down the street
Down where the effigies grow
Overboard in the sattrap sun
Sattrap neutral dimpster dived
And all the laughs the lips could find
Overboard
Talking the answers that would not hear
And the reasons that would not reply
Stamping out the folds the abysmals left behind
Rehydrating kites in the gates of winter
Waiting for the shoguns to arrive
Just before the nymphs of noon
Craftware crockery peace for sale
And orchestras tamed teutonic tunes
Plates for awakening dimpsters of fools
And the calls lapsed leaving trains waiting
Fooling the trees that would not arrive
Leaving orchestras tincturing tunes
Into the waves just before the silence
And the roar

Denis Streeter 7/31/11

Fault lines

Bridges pass windows
That empty display
More than tool boxes away
Under stars shadowy shine
Walking distance disappears
Under rafter laughter
Too shy for tunes
And after after
One beat at a time
Words meet
Everything you think
And the removals begin
First a word then a line
Blurring passing
Bridges windows
Addition subtractions
And the coats let
A little night out
Blurring your bridges
Moating your eye
Blessing and cursing
Rewording each line
Some prayer along fault lines
Some peace you do not know.

Denis Streeter 7/29/11

Again

Stoic as ice water
The gradual retreat
From wilderness reality
To the tongs of testing.
Resting in times
The zeroes and ones
And all inbetweens
Set their universe
Beyond divine
And the channels kept flipping
Their routine way
Made of marmelade and madness
Some quaint phrase hesitated
To offer advice
Knowing it would be ignored
And the floor boards rambled
Talking in tongues the cries submitted
Over where the ocean blows
Saltwater becomes you
Stoic you're made
Contradictions conflict
The gradual retreat
Warm to cold
Waiting for warm again.

Denis Streeter 7/29/11

Reknitting the sun

Satarlee the Saturdays passed by
Opening kitchen byrooms of sound
Sure as a shoehorn dipping surprise
And underneath the sunshine broke through
Shattered shards leaving ground of light
Some combusted coalbeque
And the lightning rods shot and the rain paned
Removing glasses from head and walls
"Tupperance", one said, but no one knew what he meant
Went on with his carving meatballs from ivory
Satarlee the Saturdays passed
Sandblasting wine early winter fall spring
And when it was over the tulips were picking
Straws from the raspberries, none of the kissing
The lamps the windows from head to walls
And the ramps were over, the curbs were done
Satarlee passed reknitting the sun.

Denis Streeter 7/22/11

Popcorn toothpaste

I came up with this poem from my supervisor's comment of "I need to brush my teeth." I'd been eating from a bag of popcorn in the office the past few days and just put the two together...in that way I have...

Popcorn toothpaste

Brush your teeth with popcorn
Find it may not work
Chunks debris between your teeth
Much wash rinse and spit.
Brush your teeth with popcorn
Head will corn your cob
What that makes so little sense
What is in your gob?
Brush your teeth with popcorn
Pop and rinse your dreams
Toothpaste mixed with popcorn
Not quite what it seems.

Denis Streeter 7/22/11

Green soldiered dust

Revised from a year ago...


Hot on the tin
The roof disappeared
Leaving tracks of trail dust behind
Behind in the rafters
Stood an ancient army
Of cobwebbed disasters
Waiting to be played
Green soldiered dust
More at peace with the spiders
Green pumped up adrenalin at rest
Memorial Day in the rafters
The kids are grown up
Fighting their own battles
Green plastic soldiers forgotten
Except in the rafters.

Denis Streeter 7/15/10