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By Rob Kistner | May 16, 2008

Topics: Image | Comments Off

Impulse (a haiku)

By Rob Kistner | May 16, 2008

Impulse

•

captive to urges
woodpecker drums summer stumps
boys kiss moist red lips

• • •

Topics: Haiku, Image, Poetry | 1 Comment »

The Vow

By Rob Kistner | May 9, 2008

The Vow

•

I pledged I’d never leave your side
and whole my vow remains

as the passion of our love spilled forth
we drank deeply in our youth

the fire of our joined bliss
flowed molten from our core

as we made our fervent bond
its blaze grew ever brighter

it kindled dreams that carried us
to family and good fortune

its heat has warmed us in the times
when winds of fate turned cold

through the autumn of our life
its glow held back the chill

and as winter felled its quiet deep
we were drawn close in comfort

nurtured by the ever present
steady flame of love

now it is our time of rest
when worldly worries lift

we are one next to the other
in the embrace of mother earth

I pledged I’d never leave your side
and whole my vow remains

• • •

Topics: Poetry | 9 Comments »

Identity

By Rob Kistner | May 3, 2008

Identity

•

I came upon a stranger

she asked me
“who are you?”

I pondered
then replied

I am son

born
to a mother unknown
a father
unseen

I am father

three times blessed
with life’s miracle

I am joy

having beheld
each child’s coming

I am betrothed

touched by
a lover’s heart

I am sorrow

having lost
my eldest son

I am wonder

marveling
at the gift of life
the beauty
of this natural realm

I am song

fortuned with
a lyric voice

I am art

bestowed with
a balanced eye

I am athlete

fleet of foot
strong of frame

I am word

burdened with
a poet’s plight

I am gratitude

to have known
this life at all

I am a simple man

who stands this day
before you

in the end

I am you
and
you are me

we are one another

most uncertain
quite who we are

• • •

Topics: Poetry, Post | 12 Comments »

Truth

By Rob Kistner | May 2, 2008

Truth

•

prowling
the nocturnal neon zoo
groin deep in humankind

suckling life’s sweet underbelly

swilling full
the luscious flesh festival

seduced
by the siren song
of sacred craving

I am a night being

stalking
dangerous

I am a sentient being

disillusioned
seeking

my fingers burn
from dancing
with the fire-whores of
angst
and indignation

I come
in a rolling demon’s fire

fast and hard
tough as hell

cresting
and crashing in
howling mad
scorching the night

dancing
with every devil I can find

ranting
raving
blazing

a combusting carnal fireball

fierce appetite

roaring hungry
for all of life’s deliciousness

longing to consume
every forbidden morsel and crumb
of passion
desire
knowledge

of truth

ferociously

• • •

Topics: Poetry | 7 Comments »

Outrageous

By Rob Kistner | April 26, 2008

Outrageous

•

watch them

see them
in their cavernous dwellings

shrines to excess
to waste

testaments to foolish disregard
for our precious planet

observe them hoist themselves
to command positions
in gluttonous drive-time dinosaurs

dreaded treaded behemoths

that bully across the face
of our crippled planet

devouring resources
like a herd
of metallic mastodons

a relentless forage
of fragile fossil fuel

to suck dry
the paleozoic nectar

300 million years
in the making

a fraction of that
in the plunder
and depletion

by frivolous toys
of self-extinction

that spew forth
poisonous discharge

fouling the atmosphere

pummeling our frail ecosystem

shoving earth closer
ever closer
to the brink of no return

to satisfy a toxic desire
for bigger
gaudier
faster

hungrier

to feed
a caustic ego

to assert
perceived dominion

they are the elite
the special

the outrageously dangerous

they
are you and I

• • •

Topics: Poetry | 23 Comments »

Seasons

By Rob Kistner | April 24, 2008

Author’s note: This is a suite of four haiku that reflect the seasons of the year.

Seasons

•

Spring

(haiku)

•

wings flutter gently

spring breeze bends full flowered stems

meadow dance begins

• • •

Summer

(haiku)

•

green leaf on blue pond

turns in golden summer sun

red bird softly sings

• • •

Fall

(haiku)

•

stalks lie down in fields

arbors burst with ripened grape

fall is on the land

• • •

Winter

(haiku)

•

coarse lands cloaked in white

lakes bejeweled in crystal

winter’s dressing hand

• • •

_____________________

collage above entitled: “Four Seasons”
created by: rob kistner © 2007
_____________________

• • •

To hear poem read by author, click here

Topics: Haiku, Image, Poetry, Spoken Word, collage | 8 Comments »

Gaia Weeps (earth day ‘o8)

By Rob Kistner | April 21, 2008

Gaia Weeps

(haiku)

•

Man seeks dominion

Frail balance has been disturbed

Gaia is weeping

• • •

Topics: Haiku | 6 Comments »

To Remain

By Rob Kistner | April 18, 2008

To Remain

•

moonlight
keeps dark at bay
pressing in
as night wind stirs

like mocking breath
of life now lost
to light-less realm
beyond the chill
encircling me

empty
to remain

no emotion
save grief

apples spilled
on broken stair
where rail eluded
grasping hand

no voice came
to futile cry

those lips
will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love

• • •

Topics: Poetry | 10 Comments »

Swept Away

By Rob Kistner | April 17, 2008

A bluesman’s life and soul. Music gives me goose-bumps, especially when created by genuine human spirit

NOTE: I invite you to listen to the recorded “spoken word” version of this poem you’ll find at the bottom of this post. I’ve mixed in a little ‘atmosphere’ to heighten the immersion.

Swept Away

•

memphis red
no longer is

gray now shines
from a balding head
filled with scarlet embers

memories
still burn

a fired spirit

too deep
for coddled mortals
to fully fathom

red is real

red is legend

his tales
of pain
of injustice
the lore of the big muddy

his eyes
earthy brown
turbulent as that river

his stare
a deep current
impossible to escape

swept away

his voice
a tempered edge

honed by blues
broadleaf husky
thick as sorghum
smooth
as beale street bourbon

the cf martin
swings
from a leathered neck

on a tattered strap
stretched and shaped
by the heft of sorrow
poured into the soundhole

marked and scarred
by years of burden

of witness

its character and patina
bear testament
to a genuine soul

cracked and seasoned hands
reach
with suffered care
to wrap the fingerboard
in love

callused digits
yellowed by habit
depress taut strands
no longer catgut

sculpting emotions

blood and bone
grip
connect

true life
ensnared
in sitka spruce
and spiraled steel

knowing strains rise
chords of loss
rhythmic stomp
stinging verse

of broken promise
failed love

of dirt field
cruel street
back alley

of harsh wisdom

resonate
to fill this space

to break my heart
to steal my soul

swept away

• • •

_____________________

photo rendering above entitled: “Knowing”
rendered by: rob kistner © 2007
_____________________

• • •

To hear poem read by author, click below

Topics: Image, Poetry, Spoken Word | 67 Comments »

The Weaver

By Rob Kistner | April 17, 2008

Author’s note: My wife Kathy is a nationally recognized contemporary fiber artist. You can see some of her creations below by scrolling down. Included among the skills and crafts she employs in this pursuit, she is a weaver — and a great inspiration for me. I wrote this for her.

The Weaver

•

today I watched a weaver
marveling at her grace
intrigued by her care
fascinated by this dance

first the treadle
then the shuttle
then the beater
then again

in colors of all nature
in textures of the earth
she coaxed and wove each fiber
with an artist’s loving hand

now the treadle
now the shuttle
now the beater
now again

fiber over fiber
her envisioned pattern
expanding ever onward
painting with her loom

and the treadle
and the shuttle
and the beater
and again

the syncopated rhythm
of this weaver’s inner vision
her soul’s pulse
heart’s beat
her metronome of life

go the treadle,
go the shuttle
go the beater
go again

like history unfolding
event upon event
creation slow and steady
progress near unseen

this weaver captures memories
in her tapestry of time

unfurls dreamscapes
in her cloth of wonder

unveils mysteries

in her fabric - there is truth

• • •

Immediately above is “Fallingwater” another piece from the portfolio of contemporary craft that my wife Kathy and I have created together — she being, by far, the major contributor. At the top, above the poem, is a commissioned piece entitled “Yin Yang”.

We work jointly, she creating the fiber art, and I design and build the mounting elements. Kathy does the “magic”: spinning, dying, weaving, sculpting, braiding, cording, dowel wrapping, etc.

Her studio is a plethora of spinning wheels, dye pots, warpping boards, floor/upright/lap looms, hoards of hanging skeins, drawers of “found objects”, and multiple semi-cluttered assembly tables with pieces in varying stages of complete. Kathy is the fiber wizard. I do the mechanical.

To give you an understanding of what it takes to create a piece from carded fibers through to display ready; Kathy put several hundred hours, first spinning raw material, then on her Navajo upright loom, weaving and hand-stranding the different fiber elements of “Fallingwater”. For mounting of this piece I used maple, red cedar, concrete, aluminum, silk cord, with a nickel chromium art deco medallion. The medallion was a “found object”.

“Fallingwater” is a tribute to the Frank Lloyd Wright architectural masterpiece of the same name. Its dimensions are 84″H x 22″W x 10″D.

There are a few more pieces below. Each with an interesting story, each with a great deal of time and careful attention invested in its creation. The names and basic dimensions are included with the photo of each. Kathy’s calls her studio Fibrations™.

_________________________________________________

Topics: Contemporary Craft, Image, Poetry | 43 Comments »

Nocturne

By Rob Kistner | April 12, 2008

A brooding full moon, in image, verse, and spoken word

Author’s note: this piece does not expose a secret, but instead, it deals with the weight and burden of keeping dark disturbing secrets buried away.

Nocturne

•

hawk moon hangs heavy
in the damp night sky

bulbous moist pearl
rolling
in a cold chromium fog

wet slivers of cloud
smear themselves
across its face

irregular

like translucent sacks
of moonbeams

breathing

glassine billowing pillows
oozing

soaked with midnight

stars float and spark
glinting
dripping
shivering

frozen splintered crystal-tips
diamond chips
pinprick rips
in blackened space

they wink and wane
and flutter
shattered bits of silvered light

snapping here then not

behind the ghostly white
vapor that slithers
through the firmament

the world devoid of color
aglow in sterling grey
a negative of day

thick and chilled

filled with the sound
of stalking after-dark things

nocturne

the sorrowing hour
to lay bare your soul
in pale introspection

in grief of secrets

…

To hear poem read by author, click here

Topics: Image, Poetry, Spoken Word | 45 Comments »

Temper, Temper

By Rob Kistner | April 8, 2008

You’re still locked in the frikkin’ commode
When we really should be hitting the road
How much time can you take up
While putting on makeup
My damned head is about to explode