Month: March 2022

artists must create
when that expression is robbed
the soul is wounded

oh these deft fingers
that created fantasies
have now betrayed me

*
rob kistner © 2022

Hi! I’m Edgrrr, I was rob’s shih tzu. He misses me every day.

Poetry at: dVerse

~ Shots of my creative activity in my studio ~

~ Examples of our Fibrations Studio’s work ~

He awakens
unbidden by alarm
lingers in the darkness
warm neath the blankets

fumbling for the lamp
follows moments of procrastination
before he lifts himself upright
slides feet into slippers
to rise ever so stiffly
from the comfort of bed

pulling on his robe
he ambles to the kitchen
takes a cup from the shelf
pours chamomile tea
brewed ready each morning
by the wonders of technology

he retreats to his office
to his chair
where it waits
welcoming
in a pool of soft light
buffered against the chill
of pre-dawn dark

he sits
sips steeped motivation
quietly peeling away fog
that layers his mind
residue of another fitful night

he is somber
but pleased to be awake
to be alive
grateful for the peace
and the quiet of early morning
fleeting though it is

his thoughts
begin to un-blend
to gather
in a cohesive palette
stirring his notice

slowly they sort
in colors of mood

melancholy greys
fear’s dark ebony
purples of pain and anger
the violet of regret
sorrowful blues
gentle peaceful greens
golden joy
laughter’s bright amber
love’s ruby red
the scarlet of passion

but the colors have spilled
running raw ‘cross the floor
puddling in chaos
spectrum’s cacophony

this morning
reflections on his mortality
newly threatened
shoulder in coldly
crowding his reverie
bleeding this morning
into only shades of grey

pondering his plight
cursing fate
he struggles
neath the weight of uncertainty

he feels frozen
trapped by failing health
but he realizes
no bondage is worse
than the hope of happiness

but still
he hopes
he always hopes

a riot of emotions
overcome him
he seeks clarity

he reaches for his laptop
his tool of resolution
his canvass of language

in the spreading saffrons
and corals of dawn
he begins painting turbulent indigo

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

~ songs by two true goddesses & and a dude ~

sweet pink blossoms burst
red spring buds have spread their wings
soon will be cherries

Pushkin Square in Uzhgorod, Ukraine

Poetry at: dVerse

 
Wow — it is so hard to believe
that it’s finally time to leave
the spaceport

last night I nearly opted out
lying in bed thinking about
this spaceflight

I am nervous — I’m telling you
I fear at blast off I might poo
my spacesuit

but it’s damned cool that of this crew
I am the one who gets to do
the spacewalk

is this to me a dream come true
yes — if they keep me tethered to
the spacecraft

all this really is so very new
who’d a’though it’s Helianthus that knew
Im’a spaceman

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

Across the meadow
looks like Helianthus and the girls
are gathering again
for their morning walk

oh shit
the damned sky is on fire
again

I mean —
what the hell…

looks like that fuckin’ rewsky
is blowin’ things up again

ya’ know
his stupid war
certainly puts a damper on
a beautiful Kiev morning

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Across the meadow
last night’s dew clings
fondly to the old-growth

wrapped in crystalline embrace
it adorns the stately cedars
as if diamonds
that sparkle
in the morning sun

a splendor befitting
their regal beauty

this Spring day
begins bright and crisp

bird songs lilt
carried on a light breeze

in the meadow
Helianthus raise their golden heads
to follow the sun’s journey west

I see you afar
approaching on the path
backlit by sunrise
your hair golden in dawn’s glow

I watch you
as you stop to rest

in this moment
my love
perks its tender head
I’m consumed

your dog has trotted ahead of you
to meet me in the sunflowers
chuffing in excitement

I look
to catch site of you
again

so beautiful
your lips sculpt a smile
I’m swept away
on passion’s tide
this golden sunflower morning

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

The moment of not-spring — is still
has no bold herald — just a date
in time

no upheaval in my earth’s crust
no disturbance of gravity
it’s mute

the moment of not-spring passes
as can the moment of not-love
unseen

they both pass by me — so quiet
no disruption — no disturbance
silent

but when I realized love died
the pain was so unbearable
I wailed

as it broke my earth wide open
and the stars fell from my heaven
sorrow

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

when I think back — I did not know
that I was losing you — my love
foolish

I should have spent more time with you
and less time building my ego
regret

such regret

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse

~ not for the faint of heart ~

The eyes are beautiful
the eyes are seductive
the eyes are sad

the eyes are so familiar

the nose
the mouth
the chin

staring back
the one they think I am
I want to be

but a longer look
deeper into the eyes
beneath the transparent surface
concealed in the silver
there is another

one only I recognize

there
caught in the reflection
revealed
my other self
inner self
the one I truly am

the dark one
the evil one
the pretender
the killer

…such a beautiful predator
such perfection

another
again tonight
such precision

he never saw it coming

our eyes closed
the lustful kiss
then
my sweet rapier
softly ‘cross his neck

so easy

so exciting
to feel them die
to witness the power
of life crossing over

one intimate
last goodbye

a sacred act of raw release
such purity
of primal instinct…

suddenly I shudder
break my stare

a brief pang of conscience
a twinge of fear
a momentary rolling fog
of uncertainty
hoping that my guise holds fast
that I’m not found out
in my brilliant imperfection
in my soul’s
dark masquerade

but like first light
I blink wide my eyes
and check my teeth
brush my hair
tug straight my cape
making certain my masque is tight

best face forward
always

a final glance in the mirror
I pout away the evil
I smile away the doubt

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse

“Night Reflections” – Dimitri Otis

Standing on the wilderness edge
of this mighty ocean

a night breeze
snatches a paper from my hand

looking up
into crystalline clarity
I gasp

perfectly cloudless night sky

how vast this cosmos
how breathtakingly endless
how stupidly small — humans
making war beneath infinity

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse

photo by: G-Crew

Here
I see a glass reflected
in a puddle
on the ground

it appears
it is right here
and at the same time
down there
underneath

but

is that glass here
with me
or is it in the other
a mirrored reality
where I cannot be

or too
am I also in the other
is there another
who is also
me

down there
or elsewhere
seeing what I see
inverted

in a place
to which I cannot go
but only catch a glimpse
caught in a reflection

but if there is another me
which can I
authentic be

I feel my mind wander
wondering about this
about this entity
that I call
me

when another
tells you of yourself
you’re shown the dance they see
your outward choreography

but they tell you naught
of the music
that rings true
in your mind
in your soul

that leads and drives
your steps

to this inward dance
they’re blind

in their eyes
you are shown your reflection

they see not the light
that shines inside
that illuminates your soul

are we the I that we know
the self that we so treasure
or are we in fact the other
the one the others measure

for if the valid I
be the one
that is most outwardly known
then we are in fact that I
the one to ourselves not shown

for surely when compared
the majority story shared
is of the outward other
the one seen by the others

and so we live our life
cloistered in our other
the one that is
our own
and live this life alone
even when by many known
for the I
that’s outward shown
is the I
that’s not our own

but it is the I
that impacts
all those we’ve known

think on this
let your mind be blown
above it all
let your love be grown

image by René Magritte

hmmm…

I wonder so
about reflections
introspections
contradictions

about puddles
mirrors
shiny windows

…and even chrome

what is it in these
that I see

a door
to even more

perhaps a window too
to another me
to another you
in another home
where we also live
another life
both unaware

are we there
alone

…or has this been
all there is

if it is so
let us sing!

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

~ music for the mind & soul ~

Moon moon round and bright
silver in black satin sky
bare your sterling soul on high
annoint our dreams that they may fly

may your deep-night healing magic
shimmer ‘cross this sleeping world
may enchantment be this night unfurled
may your wand of wonder be fully twirled

spellbind all silent slumber
’til all dreams are dreamed this night
’til pure hearts are lifted light
‘til joy has made sorrow take flight

let love rule the dawning day
let new hope awaken strong
let peace be ‘morrow’s waking song
let peace bless us this day long

*
rob kistner © 2019

More poetry at:dVerse

Yo — sit back shut up and don’t be rude
I’m gonna tell you ‘bout a bad-ass dude

he rolls with a finger-snap jazz-jive strut
don’t mess with him ’cause you might get cut

he wears silken, french-cuffed, ivory shirts
they are soft as butter-sweet cream desserts

got diamond cufflinks of pure white gold
he’s fashion treasure – precious and bold

pearl stick-pinned, satin tie — knotted tight
lookin’ like Paris on a Saturday night

desert-tan gabardine three-pleat slacks
euro-cuffed, steam creased — sharp as tacks

soft snakeskin braces buttoned sterling bright
hip — and killer as a rattlesnake’s bite

black-patton striders with real ‘gator spats
he’s steppin’ classy as the coolest cats

red pinstriped linen coat double-breasted
pure uptown savvy — teal velvet vested

sportin’ a full-blocked, rolled-brim, felt chapeau
in the deepest red of a fine Bordeaux

he loves Pearly with the real fine hat
and she don’t need wear much more than that

he’s crisp and smooth as a dry martini
best call him SIR — friends call him Ziggy

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse

S weet winter holds my favorite annual day
when cheerful santa flys his big red sleigh
love frolicking in the bright fresh-fallen snow
to feel it crunching beneath my booted feet
see the glistening whiteness of the world’s glow
and feel the crisp chill’s bite upon my cheek
so wonderful — walking in this winter wonderland

putting up, and then taking down the tree
the freezing climb to light the house — misery
it’s really hard, trudging in new-fallen snow
my poor feet are soaked and soar, totally numb
snow-blindness on the roof certainly is no joke
and this damned Bell’s Palsey really is no fun
this wasteland’s a frozen kinda hell – so just go

it feels this miserable season goes on and on
fell off that frozen ladder again in early dawn
I wandered lonely as a cloud from concussion
winter… wicked winter— just be gone!

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse

**NOTE: this is a work of fiction. I have no concussion.

Ambition courage and generosity
forgiveness insight and honesty
understanding and above all love
remember these
the 8 sacred keys

Ambition opens the door to success
enabling more where once was less

Courage opens the door to possibility
releasing the shackles of insecurity

Generosity opens the door to abundance
lifting all from poverty’s encumbrance

Forgiveness opens the door to peace
enabling conflict and violence to cease

Insight opens the door to wisdom
setting the mind on the path to freedom

Honesty opens the door to truth
giving the bite of deceit no tooth

Understanding opens the door to acceptance
breaking down the wall of fear’s reluctance

Love is the key considered best
it is the secret to happiness
because it opens the door
to all the rest

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Hell
is not
an abstract
it’s very real
it is evident in the stench of death

from the bodies lying in Ukraine streets
left where they fell
broken raw
killed by
greed

the
truth is
hell is not
beyond the veil
evil has delivered it at our feet

blood stained now by vile human arrogance
by evil men
cowards all
spineless
weak

who
attempt
to show strength
through brutal deeds
smite them — do not relent until they’re crushed

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at:dVerse