Month: June 2021

My Chronicle

…we must each be wholly responsible for the life we live…

 

The cadence to which I tight step
pulses in my heart alone
stirs my spirit
steels my resolve
drives me on into the fray

“to thine own self”
resonates the chambers of my soul
sweet as the song of angels

if one is not the author
or thorough editor
of the life one lives
it is plagiarized
its essence forged

my pen scribes my chronicle
until I apply my hand
the slate is blank

do not attempt to chart my course
I search my own horizon
outside the press of others

do not seek me on the surface
I break deep
below the chaos

do not summon me to your queue
I stand in line for no one
you are not my piper

do not tell me your truth
never will it be my canon

do not try to name me
I will never be yours
do not try to contain me
I live far beyond
as have I always
and ever will

life is fragile
it will be mine

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry Pantry at: Poets & Storytellers

 

Hard Chill

 

F rozen
to preserve form

to hold the rise
and the flow
of your petals

retain the pout
of your mouth
the smooth
of your neck

to do what —
outwit time

why —
to preserve beauty

foolish orchid

beauty is supple
beauty is soft
beauty is warm
beauty is fragrant

you are not
foolish orchid

it is beautiful
to live a full life
to age naturally
to pass gracefully

you will not
you are not beauty
you are not
the breath of life

you are ice
the hard chill
of preserved death

foolish orchid
vain foolish orchid

*
rob kistner © 2021

See other responses to this photo: Mindlovemisery

 


We Weep

 

Come humans
come join with me
all my bothers and sisters
earth’s creatures

turn off your gadgets
your cell phones off
your video games
your computers
your movies
your TV’s

turn off your static

come to the forests
come to the fertile valleys
come to the rolling planes
come to the mountains
come to the oceans
stand with us
quietly

look

listen

what you will see
is magnificent perfection

what you will hear
is our weeping

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry Pantry at: Poets & Storytellers

Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal

 

Hear me cry for our dying earth:

I See You

It will be 108 degrees this weekend in Seattle, hottest day in recorded history, since the late 1800’s. The Pandemic is still with us, and likely entering new phases of mutation. Still I hear voices raised in human arrogance denying that this world is in trouble. We may never destroy the earth, it’s pretty resilient. But we are on our way to wiping out human life — if we don’t wake the hell wake up!

 

Poet
I see you

you know well
I am a wild heart
I am a free spirit
living wild & free
in sacred balance
with my world — this earth
the earth we all share
we creatures
and you humans

you careless humans

poet
help them see
I am in danger
as are we all
in danger

this fresh pure water
you see me drinking
that replenishes me
replenishes all of us
that we all need to survive
even more that the food we eat

it is rapidly disappearing
as toxins
permeate our earth’s
fragile water systems
if we would lose
only our precious water
earth’s ecosystem will collapse

poet
help them see
the true light
the only way
is this sacred balance

help them hear
the clear voice of truth
help them know
the pure heart of justice
justice for this earth
justice for us all

help them truly want
to reach for
to grasp
to hold close
this sacred balance

for they must

look poet
help them feel
the terrible suffering
this earth is struggling
mightily to endure

help them learn how to see
with their own eyes
as I see with mine
wandering this planet daily

help them to see
that they are the cause
and they are the solution
if they will open
their eyes
their hearts
their minds

poet

you see many things
but you oft talk in riddles
you avoid the cold
and the hard way
favoring the soft path
of platitudes
and metaphors
of meter and rhyme

but this is not
this is not that time

poet
look into these eyes
my eyes
that weep
for our foolish devastation

you must become
the wild heart I am

you poet
must look into the fire
of our burning earth
feel it burn your eyes
char your soul

then
poet
tell them how that feels

help them hear me
hear my wolf’s song
as I keen and howl
for my dying world

let them hear you scream
of the injustice
of the real danger
the imminent danger

rally them
set them ablaze
with the passion to
seek and secure
the sacred balance
to hold it close
become its protector

lift your pen
poet
like a sword
and strike down
this imbalance
this human stupidity

show them the way poet
I believe
with all the wildness
of my heart
with all the strength
of my free spirit
they will join the battle
they must

but you must tell them
poet
tell them what is real

tell them in the power
that is plain language

tell them my earth
is dying

tell them our earth
truly is dying
their arrogance
is killing it

tell them now
poet
tell them true
poet
they will listen

they must listen
now

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry Pantry at: Poets & Storytellers

Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal

 

Hear me cry for our dying earth:

Splendid Unknown

“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” from: A Farewell to Arms – Ernest Hemingway

 
reflections to date on my 74 year journey

This poet’s lot is cast to wander
in search of life’s splendid unknown
step by step day after day
uncertain fate unfolds this journey
early steps of which
I trod alone

filled with wonder
joy
and awe

fraught with sadness
pain
and tears

it has carried me
‘cross countless boundaries
some surround me
some were within

transported me ‘cross time and space
brought me face to face
from place to place

real faces
real places

life’s shown me mysteries
marvels
magic

good & evil

the best
the least

I’ve been ignored
I’ve been betrayed
I’ve been abandoned
and then been saved

known times of little.
times of plenty
times of hunger
times of feast

it’s brought me pleasures
some fame some fortune
to claim them back
with no remorse

I’ve known satisfaction
a crowd’s joyous reaction
a woman’s true love
a beloved child’s passing

life’s been true and faithful
a joy genuine
to then turn away
and break my heart

it’s been fact
fiction
and contradiction
fantasy
and harshly real

l’ve been honored
as a man of standing
then pushed away
to cower in shame
once more alone
to save my name

I’ve traveled light
traveled fast
stumbled burdened
weighed with grief

I’ve lead and followed
lost my way
regained direction
to then lose faith

I keep it light
love real-time humor
my wit’s ironic
my heart’s bionic

I’ve walked hand in hand
with fear and death
stared down depression
to again be consumed

then arose once more
to venture forth
without a clue my destination
with no regard the fated outcome
of my plight — no consideration

been a hero
been a zero
but mostly
jus’ been a faulted man

long ago I tempered ego
having learned it’s of no use

despite whatever seem our difference
at the core we’re all the same

this realm we entered
all alone
and here we’ll leave
alone again

but all of this is of no matter
foolish so to dwell upon
not worth concern nor contemplation
keeping score a vain temptation
the blame — the fairness
the right — the wrong
the worrying a useless pressure

this poet’s learned
the truth of time

despite the pain
beyond the pleasure
it is this journey
that is the treasure
and how one makes it
the truest measure

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse


 

Introducing amazing vocalist Samantha (Sam) Brown:


“And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do, I don’t mind. Why should I be frightened of dying? There’s no reason for it, you’ve gotta go sometime. If you can hear the whispering — you are dying.” …Pink Floyd

https://youtu.be/95b7fEOFBa8

Oh Joy!

 

We have reached Summer Solstice, the point in time when light has fully overtaken the dark. It is now when the sun begins to shift the journey of its arc. Each new day sunlight shines its brightest but begins to linger less. The birds and animals are busy with new life. Fields of crop, orchards, and arbors are approaching their peak of growth. This time of transition is a time of bustle and fullness for all — animals, plants, and us.

As we all enter this realm of dimming, earth’s coming bounty begins to swell to brimming. Hearts fill with a sense of possibility. The long days and warm nights bring a spirit of freedom. Love and laughter fill the air. Even as earth’s daily light grows ever less, the harvest strides towards its readiness. Smiles blend with the toil and anticipation. It is a time of joy, and this year, a critically needed time of personal evaluation.

cross this solstice night
faint the dimming of the light
days loll long — hearts bright

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

https://youtu.be/nCznAtGjlkQ

Your Car Sir


 

Of course you have a choice sir
of course
we all have choices sir

one always has a choice
the very same choice
you
and the rest of us
have enjoyed
since birth

we can choose to live
we can choose to die
we can choose to smile
we can choose to cry
about it all

we can choose
to get the facts
to understand
or just wonder why

but we all must choose
you must choose

this car sir
will take you
to tomorrow

so if you’d like
to see tomorrow
get in!
now!

the next car back?

sir
that car
will never see tomorrow

but it will be up
in just a moment — sir
if you prefer

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry Pantry at: Poets & Storytellers

 

WARNING: adult lyrics

Journey Through Night

 

This night’s moon can bring forth miracles
its rising casts light on dreams of the future
its journey through night will bring tomorrow anew
let moon carry forward our dreams and our courage

its rising casts light on dreams of the future
but that future may prove to be in great peril
if restraint and balance continue abandoned

its journey through night will bring tomorrow anew
but will that tomorrow dawn on new hope
if humans fail to finally embrace equilibrium

let moon carry forward our dreams and our courage
let it also cast sterling our strength to strive harder
our journey through night must lead us to balance

 

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

METAPHOR ALERT
Moon = meditative introspection / prayer
Night = human struggle/mistakes

Soul-Stained

scorched3
collage entitled “Eden’s Desolation” © 1996 — by: rob kistner

 
T his path is my shame
and so I stumble on
soul-stained
with the smudge of sin
drenched in regret
I stumble anguished
into this toxic nightfall
captive on this road to extinction
of my lethal human arrogance
prisoner of my duplicitous apathy
seeking forgiveness

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse


 



Moondance


 

W isps of cloud
occasionally smudge
the sterling moon

an enthralling cacophony
of night
swaddles us

we gaze skyward
in blissful intoxication
through the silver gilded
canopy of old growth
surrounding this clearing
deep in the forest

lushly savoring
the sensuous afterglow
of our moondance

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 


Heart On A Wheel

This poem was inspired by the photo below.
Also by a passage from a multi-media poem I wrote in 2007.
That 2007 poem and video can be found here below “Heart On A Wheel”.
 

 

C racked and seasoned hands
reach with suffered care
to wrap the earthen clay
in love

callused digits
yellowed by habit
shape and mold

caressing purposefully
yet tenderly
the moist pliable vision
spinning golden
atop the wheel

unfolding carefully

evolving

responding
to the maker’s
knowing touch

the envisioned creation
slowly reveals itself
to the creator

ever eager
to bring forth
the concealed secret

blood and bone
in flesh’n grip
connect

seduce

sculpting emotions
into beauty

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 


 

Swept Away

Poem written and read by Rob Kistner.
Multi-media video created and produced by Rob Kistner.

~

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
you’re 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

blood and bone
grip
connect
sculpting emotions

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

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2007

Hmmm?


 


B egan noticing, after walking for more than an hour, the forest started looking very familiar. I was certain I’d never before trekked this section of old growth. I had this “feeling” I had. I was curious.

After walking another ten minutes, my sense of familiarity with this part of the forest was increasing. I decided to try an experiment. Making certain it was out of sight, I built a small formation trailside, using some twigs, at the base of a beautiful redwood, that soared into the canopy.

We walked another half hour. I couldn’t shake my suspicion that we were retracing our steps — and there it was, my formation. I called to our guide, “where’re we going, and where the hell are we?” His reply, “crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.” Damnit, I knew it — we’re lost!

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse


 





Waltz of Youth



 

W ith the heft and smooth sheen
of the beautiful sculpted body
caressed lovingly
between her nubile legs
her excitement stirs
her anticipation grows

eager and confident
she lays tingling hands upon it

engaging the sure strength
of her lithe knowing essence
and the firm deft touch
of her pristine fingers
the brilliant young cellist
ignites the dance

strong slender legs
carry firm yearning bodies
perfumed and cologne’d
around and across
the crowded dance floor
pulses alive

budding passion
craving — yet hesitant
swept up in innocent bliss

the waltz of youth
rising and falling
to the rich give and take
of the cellist’s bow

she lifts the energy
coaxing the passion
of the beautiful dance

with her nimble sway
and precision movements
delicately she envisions
the flowing notes

lovely face
in rhythmic expression
eyes sometimes closed
she dreams the music

wholly consumed
by the seductive strains
the enlivened dancers
sweep round and round
bodies a’glisten
in smoldered embrace
bathed in the chandelier’s
golden glow

further fired by stolen kisses
and breathy whispers
of promised love
and naive forevers

dawning lives
in the tender grasp
of blooming desire
and the velvet touch
of mad magical
magnificent music
*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse


 


…a little “out of this world” music…

 

Not Ever


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S ara

Sara

Sara — stop

Sara!

please Sara
stop

Sara
look at me

Sara please
please listen

I’m sorry

I can still hear him

didn’t need to listen
I already knew

already knew
what love sounded like
when it lied
when it cried
when it died

when it died
when love died
it sounded like him

my lost trust sounded like him
my broken heart sounded like him
my lost years sounded like him
my worst fears sounded like him

so I just kept walking
put my head down
kept walking

never looked back
never going back

no
never going back
never again

never
never

not ever

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 


National Domestic Violence 24-hr Hotline 1-800-799-7233

Orbisculated


 

E ating grapefruit is quite dangerous
‘cause the juicy things fight back
if you stab it best be careful
better give it your best try
‘cause carelessness will likely get you
a stinging squirt in your left eye
or depending on how your squinting
it just might be the right tonight

see ‘ya gotta keep least one eye open
cause that grapefruit spork is hard to steer
and whether left eye or the right
that nasty squirt will bring a tear
and if when you eat a grapefruit half
you sprinkle salt upon it first
know a salty juicy eye-squirt
absolutely is the worst

so if you plan on eatin’ grapefruit
perhaos some grapefruit eatin’ classes
or better yet — don’t spend big money
just get yourself some cheap sunglasses

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse