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
Though from different worlds we’re solid bound
a common cord binds us strong, fastened deep
to the shared part we keep safe and sacred
that survives no matter what else may fail
the part that is our most essential selves
this is where we are intimately joined
we’re poets at the bedrock of our souls
it is here our love of life is harbored
it’s in this holy place that we shelter
always alert to the clarion’s call
we are all damaged in our special ways
we like the path unclear the route unmarked
we are fond of stumbling in fumbling through
to find the way that is uniquely ours
engaged by the obtuse — the uneven
we vibrate to the asymmetric chord
find grace and form in brilliant imbalance
we’re seduced by the clue — drawn to the fog
we seek the wonder there that is withheld
because here we hear the clarion call
we long to always wander ‘round the bend
to seek what me may find over the hill
we always wonder what’s behind the door
what is it there that must be locked away
we can be found ears pressed against that door
our ears also prick to the distant sound
that calls to us just beyond clarity
to all these things our souls are strongly pulled
as down the trail in the mist ‘round the curve
there the clarion awaits — shut away
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at:dVerse
~ evidence of a muse ~