satellite chapel

a kerilian of tea
that's what they got
with powdered lamb and lemon gray
don't know where the plant's been
in rome i guess
where they yelm for gold.  shell for clams.  reed for water
that is, after the stay stand
a little block of water for small labor
as long as they stay within limits
and draw a long ball down center field
the coming team must pay
and the turnips are grape
never know when tulips poison ivy
there's sand in the treads of water
no shimmer lad, no carving tools
they're out of shape and ill spent
just ride the poison  sand
stand in your shoes
you can't hide over there
in chocolate cream
moving to sundae
an earthquake mind
is pleasing but not seismic
riding a toe
a broom stick  remover
a romp on the bench
hide the pillow
there's nothing in the sand
your ego wanders. eggs on your sleeve
hermit chapel
where crabs go pray
good hunting
extra luster cleans the pan
forgive the gold fattened.  he's forgot to bathe
the batheing simple.  over the deck
where desks hide and freedom chapels
under the pine.  it's a bit messy
these bones and hose.  so much to do
capture an elbow nose
where it goes.  each hand goes clapper
the sages dumb
don't know the ages
i know it's pine
sentenced ears
it's a trainwreck
washing windows to snub your nose
and the tickets railing
one psalm at a time
let me check in that hand
a kerilian of tea
seismic scrapers
with powdered lamb and lemon gray
that's what they've got

denis streeter    5/18/19

may day

i felt sick inside
realizing the next feature poet is another award winner
that i probably won't care about
lately i hardly care for anyone's open mike poetry
i care about mine a little more, but not much
i rarely return to my poem the next day
the next may be better
you don't need to appreciate my writing.  just listen
i hate it when someone reads their poem
as if their words should speak for themselves
no they shouldn't
if you're going to read at open mike
you'd better choose something that reads aloud well
my poems may not make sense, but they read aloud well
that's what i care about
please at least entertain me for 5 minutes or less
though sometimes 2 is too much
let me care about what you write
show me you.  it's more likely to resonate
otherwise just jesus god shut the fuck up
yes i'm cranky
give me a chance to smile or nod in recognition
don't try to impress me.  i hate that
don't read something that makes me feel stupid
for not realizing your poetic nuances
i don't care.  i've already tuned out.
please don't make me feel sick inside
i want to like your poetry
give me a reason
something i can relate to
make me laugh
open mike me
i want to care
i want to feel

denis streeter    5/1/19