Month: April 2021

and yet

the stuff I have
I must ignore
to have the time
to find some more

to stash
what it is I got
so there’ll be nothing
I have not

and when I have
all that there is
I’ll sit back
and say

gee wiz

I’m not certain
this is all
there is

limited space
no way
no way
I can fit more in
today

I may be nuts
or maybe not
but gotta have more
than what I got

I’m on the verge
of losing it
but I believe
more will fit

we’re near full
for sure
for sure
but I can still
fit a bit more

I can always
fit a bit more

though what I have
is gathering dust
and some perhaps
is gathering rust
though the walls
are ‘bout to bust
I’ll stuff in more
because
I must

I simply
must

Poetry at: dVerse

april’s wine is intoxicating
as winter’s pale heart yearns
to feel spring’s grand unfolding
as nature’s palette slowly turns

this sweet inebriation
of april’s longing soul
can bring forth act’s impulsive
and draw one to the jester’s role

so be wary – for when one’s
caught in this season’s swoon
the better judgements of january
dissolve under april’s moon

the elixir of a world in bloom
is to the lusting lovelorn
a most dangerous of potions
risky randy thoughts are born

so remember and be warned
under passion’s frenzied rule
april can easily make one
act quite the splendid fool

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

https://youtu.be/-GdJ_HOjtew

unfortunately
I’ve again awakened

another hard night
now
another shit day

I rise
make my way carefully
moving head down
shufflin’ to the bathroom
to wash my face

it’s reflected sallow
in the yellowed wash
of feeble incandescence

strange tired eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my spirit

eyes of knowing
eyes of disappoint
eyes of sadness

the look burns through me
weighing upon my being

I want to scream
but no one’s here to hear me
in this cluttered two-room flat

morning maintenance done
I grab a cold bagel
gather up my stuff
trudge out the front door
down the rickety wood stairs
into the oblivious streets
that echo my strangled dreams

I duck and dodge
in and out
of early morning shadows
past the garbage and graffiti
of these dirty bricken’d canyons

they vibrate with the rush and chaos
of synapse and sinew
the hum of networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
can — beyond the reach of — should

monoliths of human avarice
cold and indifferent
clad in stainless
stone
and such

a halogen and neon blaze
they surge with manipulation
and greed

in varying shape and differing size
they flank in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
blink and beep and ring
they buzz and hiss
and stink

thoughts flood in a torrent
souring my head

I’m now rushing
unseeing
seething with anger
and exasperation
when suddenly
I stumble

a crack in the sidewalk
this fuckin’ city!

then I look down
startled

what the hell
a flower
really
no shit!

in that moment
flabbergasted
I unspring my tension

exhaling
I pause

I’ll be damned
caught in a flash
of wonder
I muse

maybe

maybe dreams
actually do survive
somewhere

in this concrete hell-hole

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

This is Seussian Tetrameter…

I am gone this I’m sure
and I doubt there’s a cure
is this joy is this bliss
was that simply a kiss

will I wake I can’t tell
I am under your spell
is this all what it seems
am I lost in my dreams

if it’s true then it’s fine
these sweet dreams are divine
here’s a wish I now make
hope I never awake
 

*

rob kistner © 2010

More tetrameter poetry at: dVerse

Open Link Night at: dVerse

~ A live bonus from Brandi! ~

while her heart she emotes
it’s her soul she reveals
she brings tears to my eyes
while my logic she steels

speaking truth she stirs hope
shattered dreams so to heal
and she gives of her self
her love rolls like a wheel

she is grit she is style
she is humble and real
she is Brandi Carlile
and she lives her ideals

 

Hanseroth twins: key to Brandi’s sound & success.
 

3.) A fully original poem inspired by Li bai’s “Crows Calling at Night”
 

A Crystal Tear

 
Sun-gold clouds fade in dimming cerulean
a lone raven’s black eyes stare steadily
loudly cawing, he effortlessly alights
perched in the striking autumn yellow
of the ginkgo’s lovely fanned petals

a lonely woman works in deft rhythm
rich silk gleams taut in her drawloom
she carefully raises the brocade patterns
learned as a child in her Shanxi province
sure hands pull the fine emerald threads

prayer on her lips — she stares far off
a closed window holds fast her whispers
sadly she falls quiet — pauses the shuttle
thinking longingly of her distant lover
wondering — will their lips again touch

she sits alone — unmoving — head turned
a crystal tear falls like a first rain drop

More poetry at: dVerse

his stern face
stern smile
stern voice
stern eyes
hypnotic wink
fired lips
burning kiss

cast her vulnerable

she adores the touch
of his strong stern hands
warm sure hands

so too
she loves his cane

 
rob kistner © 2010

More poetry at: dVerse

on this black velvet night
my brilliance shines
like crazy diamonds

hidden thoughts
soar untethered
ignited
to shine on brightly
illuminating the darkling
mysteries of time

I am the time master
I fold reality

rob kistner © 2010

More poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Day 16 poetry at: NaPoWriMo 2021

the prowling
is familiar to me
I understand
the continuous hunt

but patience
that too often
escapes my grasp
as do many salmon
elude the mighty bear

but still
he stays his task
relentlessly

in my imperfect way
I feel I understand
this relentlessness

we both
ride the great wheel
‘round and ’round we go
the bear and I
uncertain in our quests

yet still he flashes his paw
at the ever-leaping prey
in his relentless hope
to finally snag a salmon

so too have I reached out
time and again
with the relentless hope
to grasp the ultimate answer
verifiable evidence
to finally solve
my lifelong mystery

just who am I
how did I get here
where did I come from
who were my birth parents

none easily answered

in our ongoing endeavors
success is not guaranteed
for the bear
nor I

and yet
we both continue fishing

More poetry at: dVerse

Where The Sidewalk Ends — Shel Silverstein

That horrible smell
that’s filling the air,
the one that’s most certainly
impossible to bear,
is coming from that women
with the massive blue hair
sitting alone on the patio chair,
on the deck of the house,
that’s below us — right there!

What a putrid aroma,
you’d think that she’d care,
that there’s simply some things
that one never should share,
like the stink that is rising
from that patio chair,
on the deck of the house
that’s below us — down there.
the smell is outrageous
it’s terribly crass
look, it knocked our poor Rover
right flat on his ass.

And the hideous color
of that mountain of hair —
I can’t help it, can’t help it,
I can’t help but stare.
it’s tangled and horrible
and it’s disgusting too
an eye-blinding nightmarish
shade of bright blue —
and it’s causing a feeling
of nausea too!

I must look away
my heads starting to whirl,
and I feel that my toes
are beginning to curl,
I fear over the edge here
I’m going to hurl —
and I don’t want to do that
in front of a girl.

Maybe I’m wrong
but I would assume,
if one’s going to bathe
in a noxious perfume,
they’d at least have good manners
and exhibit some pride,
and not foul the ozone,
instead — stay inside,
and not be the cause
of such a mind-numbing fume
but keep the eco-disaster
contained in one room.

And if you’re chromatically challenged my friend,
consider the others that you might offend.
A monumentally grotesque rat’s nest of blue,
is not something I care to look at on you!

Look Sis, look look, look quickly down there,
that woman is getting up out of her chair.
oh joy, for joy, that’s all I can say,
thank our lucky stars, she is going away!

I hope away she will stay
for the rest of the day,
or as long as the damned wind
keeps on blowin’ this way.

More poetry at: dVerse

OLN poetry at: dVerse

More poetry at: dVerse

I will feel the rush
as I’m swept up high
into the azure sky
lost in this thrill
spellbound — I fly

I will soar fast and free
above the trees and sea
undulating far below me
listening as I feel
the warm winds’ whisper

I will watch the world
roll silently to infinity
over the far horizon
floating upward rapidly
climbing further skyward

I will now be on my way
so I must close my eyes
then sail off far away
dreaming deep and still
‘midst these sweet poppies’ sway

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

”FLYING” high with the Beatles

Day 9 poetry at: NaPoWriMo 2021