art by: Debi Adams
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 ~
Rob, this is so honest. Brutal, yet lovely.
Thank you Linda. As my heart failure begins to deepen, it causes me frequently to fight for breath, and to feel pretty shitty most of the time. Arthritis in my fingers has robbed me of the ability to create my Serenity Totems, though I am trying some simpler mixed media pieces, less physically demanding on my hands. I must create with my hands or my adult ADD drives me fucking stir crazy. Writing certainly helps me stay sane as I can be, but I just need to lay hands on something creatively time to time. It is so hard to keep my persistent sense of wonder satiated, depression is battling hard to take control, especially with the reaper so near the door. I will not give up Linda, and though I don’t know your struggle, please don’t you give up either my friend. Continue to wonder at the world, and smile as often as possible — because as fucked up as people can be, the natural world is a miracle! 🙂
Powerful read…very………read your comment too…keep typing…
Thank you Ain. I am having to rely more and more on Siri, and fingers more sparingly for editing. More day typing, and it gets me there — but makes my wife grumpy hearing me, as she puts it, talking to myself. Oh well — fuck it!
Rob, I like how you turn to nature to charge your battery up. I hope you are able to get out on some road trips to see your favorite landscapes. I went out walking today in the pouring rain and it felt wonderful to be out and about in nature.
Yes Lisa, give me the natural world any day! 🙂
So very heartfelt and real, Rob. I am glad you have not given up hope for happiness and I hope you find some each day in your life!
Thank you Dwight! I sure as hell try, but the rock keeps getting harder to push up this damned hill.
I almost chose the ‘hope of happiness’ sentence too, Rob, but opted for the ‘early to bed’ instead. Nice boat we’re in these days. ain’t it?
Beautiful, honest, open, compelling work, Brother. Hang in there.
Peace.
Thank you Ron. I like to put the grease paint down from time to time, and come bare face to reality — though the whole of reality is getting damned hard to deal with brother. I’m sitting here right now feeling my deep frustration, my depression, and my failing heart. I see my cardiologist as soon as I can get an appointment, so that will clarify at least one matter. Not excited to have that door flung open.
So very heartfelt, Rob. I’m so sorry to read about your health issues and struggles.
I hope (there’s that word again) that the doctor can offer some help.
Thank you very much Merril!
Rob, very moving. I guess all of us will reach this stage someday. But to put it in words….so beautifully and movingly…take care.
Thank you Punam.
I think the older you get, you learn to hope for less… we should focus our hope on other things, and happiness might follow.
Hell Bjorn, the time comes as you age, the best you can hope for is sunrise…
Getting old isn’t for sissies, as Betty White so famously said. My late husband always said it beats the alternative, but some days make you wonder.
Hi Joy. And on some days, the wondering makes you confused. And the confusion is damned frustrating — and males you angry and depressed. But on some days, mysteriously, the pain and confusion for some reason abate for the while — and in those moments, the beauty of life and love are all consuming — and this being consumed unveils the sense of great good fortune it is to have been granted this miracle of time on earth, and the wonderful people you’ve been lucky enough to share it with! Such is this moment now, for me. 🙂