Slow breakfast

The crab rolls were tasty
As they lolled off the dog's tongue
Full of sassafras and goat's milk
In cream rhymers of thyme and sage
Worlds of contraband dance
Surrounding oceans of seaweed
Before the nonce reunion
Of sautéed prawns buttering shrimp
The last of the saline ships at arbor
Drips of ivy pyramidalis
Washing shores of sand to clay
Remolding figures to drip
Weathered bake love breath
Ships sang and sank
Generations of recovery
Old made new seen through
Shadows of foolish ways
Ringing those distant bells
Washing us home
Drifts of song leaves laughing
Fluttering wind chimes
Silent lesson
You know
Awake
Slow breakfast

Denis Streeter  6/29/13

Heaven Eyes

I didn't make it up.  That's the title to David Almond's third children's book...but his books are for all ages and defy category.  I finished reading it for the second time last night and was blown away.  The first time I read it I was somewhat disappointed and puzzled.  That was about 12 years ago...perhaps I read it too fast and didn't consider the carefully constructed arrangement...almost like a poetic symphony as children's novel.  David Almond's first two children's novels Skellig and Kit's Wilderness changed the way I read books and how I view the world.  There was a unique writing power that pulled me into the magic of spirit, love, darkness, contradiction, and freedom.  You either like his writing style or you don't.  Maybe it's more for artists, poets, and book critics.  I've read all his books, so you know where I stand.  For some reason I felt drawn to return to this book...so I checked it out from the library.  Something seemed to tell me I didn't give it a fair read the first time around.  By the time I finished reading it a second time, I felt like I had read some kind of miracle.  I hesitate to describe a plot or even the central character Heaven Eyes because the writing says it all and becomes a story that resonates between words and beyond words.  Hidden beneath the ordinary lies the extraordinary...and the heaven eyes to search deeper.

Denis Streeter   6/28/13

Tottled shores

the snow was full up wicker way
in sounds of sheet in combs of peet
in rending pending play
in pending wending play

the oceans fall in laps to rug
in walls of shoes confuse to bug
on benches counting names
on benches counting names

the shores were fall the beaches ball
a loon a loon a lab cartoon
in labradoring ways
in labradoring ways

the winch came up to laugh the grass
and tease the tinch to give an inch
in flaps of rugs and lakes of loons
in tents a tinch of tottled tune
in moons of bending bine
in moons of bending bine

in doors of play away away
the talks of tunes the letters play
in sidewalks dear they take you near
the store the store for more for more
the fribious snake cocoo cocoo
the thwarted boar ignore ignore
whose patted peet will peeted pat
whose footed fey away away
will teach a peach to each
will teach a peach to each

away away to stay the day
ignore the fleet of footed boar
to eat to eat to say no more
and laugh the seat of peeted pear
in doors of shores in bites of bear
I know I will be there
I know I will be there

denis streeter  6/17/13

When

This is a short piece I still like...from nearly five years ago.
I found it while cleaning up my place...

When

When I was a monk
I trimmed my tree
To trim my wick
To trim my fire.

Denis Streeter  10/8/08

Lettuce needles

The lettuce needles were shining this morning
So I took my dog out for a shampoo
He sniffed the ponies and went for a swim
Dozens of barnacles floated and dove
Grabbing his legs threatening to pull him under
I threw my stick which he grabbed in mid air
Shaking head batting off barnacles
He was tired after that and jumped on a pony
Pulling in its reins, driving it to the hair parlor
Returning forlorn...out of favorite shampoo
Feeling rotten, he ate some crabgrass
Which cleaned his hair right quick
I grabbed his collar and stuck him with lettuce needles
He curled up beside me and fell fast asleep
The lettuce needles were shining this morning

Denis Streeter  6/7/13

Tea deep sleep

I was cleaning up my place and came upon a poem titled Shoveling Ovens I'd written on 1/27/12. 
It needed revision (like my place) and a title change (hmm...maybe I should consider that), so it became...

Tea deep sleep

Waiting rooms shoveling ovens
Sweaters remove satraps
Heavens wait
One two three snore
Lips off onramps
Lambs counting
Reverb off
Salmon days shadow snores left behind
Over doors under shelves rainbows trouting
Before lunch jump
Swimming schools full of underline
Rainbow black
In cross outbacks tables left
No understanding
Deepness sweaters together
Pest pebbles to sleep
Under doors over shelves
Doors stair
In that tea deep sleep.

Denis Streeter  6/5/13

Drunken wisdom

This is a verbatim message my friend left on my phone...

"Guilt is the therapist...
And guilt is the therapy
And it is something that...
Needs to be paid attention to...
Because in some ways that is the mortar
That holds everything together."

From phone message recorded by Denis Streeter on 6/2/13
and transcribed on 6/4/13

Two bits

All under the desk
The tide too long
Ready to ride that barnacle wake
Brought to center blubber and molecules
Fat as a cat listening
To signs the feeder left out
Done up in blades and molecules
Sophocles left behind
And the sun bathed to soap
Picking up litter and preening its wake
Two feeders and density gone
Fiber free and shucks aside
The ladders were taller than the mitts admitted
Fiber optic and sinister grey
Done up in pools of forgotten grace
Silk screens and silver whirls
Tabs gone paths forgotten
All those islands unmet
All that water unfiltered
And land's the way
The path's for finding
Just a bit
Or two.

Denis Streeter   6/3/13