Curiously Blue


 

L ate night
eh bird

surrounded by your darkness
and just can’t sleep

out on the peck
moon lit and cobble stoned
again

feelin’ blue

watcha’ seekin’
curious bird

your lost soul
the reason why
perhaps another chance
maybe — time enough

or jus’a beakful
o’forgiveness

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

Poetry at: dVerse


 

This following video is Joni Mitchel, with guitarist Pat Metheny, the extraordinary bassist Jaco Pastorius, Lyle Mays on keyboards, Michael Brecker on sax, and Don Alias on drums. Genuflect and bow your head — one of the great touring bands of all times… look & listen!

2nd Coming

My quirky fascination — Sci-Fi poetry.

 
A nd it was seen

the circle of light
came from the far horizon
gliding forward slowly
as if drifting on a cloud
to settle — lowered
‘round the foremost peak

and the people came
and a sound was heard
rising in the twilight
a pulsing resonance

and then a voice
heard ‘round the world
pierced the growing darkness

“I am come
from those who were
before you are”

the strange words
falling from on high
like soft sonic rain

“this was our world
until we found another
more suitable in size
for our growing numbers”

there was a pause
as the circle of light thickened

“we have returned
to see our former home
now a world out of balance
we wish to be of help
to bring this ring of light
to full clarity of radiance
to aid you in seeing your way
to a brighter cleaner future”

as the ring glows more intensely
it begins to spin
as it spins more rapidly
from it emanates a low
almost imperceptible hum
more felt than heard

“we are the D’ohma
this is a D’ohma ring of wisdom
it holds our peoples’ truths
from times well past
unto time eternal”

at that moment a single beautiful tone
resonated from within the circle
sustained then faded

“in its pulsing glow
you will learn balance
which we have understood
and considered to be sacred
for many eons”

the spinning circle is now flexing
giving off a deep purple afterglow

“it will condition you to seek peace
so you can flourish as a people
to embrace ecologically safe production
so you will learn to replenish
at a rate greater than you plunder”

at this time the governing body
of Terra Prime – the planet’s new name
had formally converged
to more closely encircle
the mesmerizing ring

“what if we refuse your direction”
inquired the Primus Terrus
the elected head of the planet’s
current governing body

with coups and assassinations
being ongoing occurrences
the governing body fluctuates

“then you will be destroyed
and this planet terraformed
to become a new healthy world”

the people of the planet
who had gathered to observe the circle
gasped and cried out myriad objections

“people of Terra Prime — hear me
we are the Interstellar Eco Police
your planet has been found guilty
by the Interstellar Eco courts
of reckless endangerment
and potential fatal damaging
of a 1st order planet”

“these rings are many in number
positioned worldwide
they are not only capable
of instructing you in safe
ongoing effective eco practices
and helping you get redirected
they are also capable of reinvigorating
the spoiled soils of Terra Prime
as well as decontaminating your waters
and scrubbing clean your air”

with that the spinning circle
emitted a shrill klaxon-like burst
for a full minute
as did each globally

“however — they are also
each an effective high-output
laser-burst sonic nuclear device
capable of strategically destroying
all uncooperative human entities
that now infect Terra Prime like a virus”

“they will then globally begin
cascading a terraforming sequence
that will extract all pollutants
from this planet’s toxic atmosphere
cleanse till and organically infuse
every inch of soil on this planet
and reclaim the fouled waters”

“we will undertake this process
with or without the current population”

with that there was a silence
that fell heavy on the planet
the voice then began again

“we grant you 72 hours to consider
if you want your planet to be saved
regenerated for your use
or should we eliminate you
and strafe your planet
cleansing it thoroughly
to then completely revitalize it
starting it again new
with a different species?”

“this is not
the first time we’ve come
this is the second coming”

the voice then stopped
allowing that statement
to firmly take hold

“we came initially
prior to the first
of your insane world wars
when your blatant disregard
for this beautiful planet
began to dangerously emerge”

again the voice held in prolonged pause
the people of Terra Prime
remained breathlessly silent
only the sounds of the circle were heard

“you have had many decades
to clean up your mess
upon our first coming
we even stealthily left agents
who for your recent decades
infiltrated your peoples
joining with the many
outspoken voices of reason
both public and private
encouraging you to understand
your ecological responsibilities”

“but your majority refused to hear
or even to acknowledge
your critical need to improve”

just then a metronomic clicking
announced itself loudly
from within the spinning circle

“you have had all this time
now you have 72 hours to decide
the fate of your world”

with that, the circle spun faster
as did each around Terra Prime
and the sky-voice went quiet
stunned silence fell around the planet

it was frighteningly obvious
this was no bluff


D’ohman “voice in the sky”


Capital of D’ohman home planet

*
rob kistner © 2021

See other responses to this photo: Mindlovemisery

I highly recommend you visit: Earthweal

Poetry at: dVerse


 

…a little “out of this world” music…

 

Blood Moon’s Crest

…interpretive gothic tale…


S o icy round
the wolf’n eye
soft and round
the riding breast

roundness
in the grande dame’s fear
a circle round
the blood moon’s crest

when this cold moon
shines red and full
there is danger
in its sanguine light

best stay put
lock tight your doors
most brutal death
is afoot tonight

there are lies
within this circled moon
that surround
this cruel charade

they gather
and collect the tears
‘til midnight’s debt
is fully paid

‘til innocence
is found to want
and purity
so deep defiled

as cold and soulless
lupine eyes
cleave this night
in red and wild

and all that once
was tender
will on this night
turn beastly raw

let guilted hearts
be locked away
to deny at dawn
the truth they saw

*
rob kistner © 2021

* Last night was a super flower blood moon.

Poetry at: dVerse


 

Sad strange fact. These 3 were recorded on 09/11/01 at Sting’s Palagio, Italy Villa.

Sting’s Fuck You to the asses that destroyed NY’s Twin Towers that very morning!

So beautiful, and still devastatingly heartbreaking, and angering, 20 years later.

https://youtu.be/U8DTxPCG-1Q

Tears In Rain

My quirky fascination — Sci-Fi love poetry.

 
“I don’t want to survive
I want to live” forever
passionately in love with you
but that’s not possible now

that astroid ripped our hull
our ship took critical damage
oxygen is nearly depleted
we are adrift alone in space

exploring space with you
was my holy grail
my peak of Everest
my grandest dream — realized

we’ve watched
golden fire clouds
hanging in pale green skies
over the azure seas of Toluras

we’ve seen the copper leaves
of the Parmus fronds
flashing from indigo mountains
in the crystal mists of Gemin

I have beheld exquisite beauty
in my rich full life
but none so beautiful
as your eyes tonight

let me fall into them
this one last time
and feel deeply our love
remembering all we’ve shared

my heart feels cruel pain
our love and “all those moments
will be lost in time
like tears — in rain”

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 


This is the perfect Sci-Fi love song.

MOVIE QUOTE #1 — “12 Years A Slave”
MOVIE QUOTE #2 — “Blade Runner”

*Blade Runner is a Ridley Scott production based on Phillip Dick’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep”.

Wonderment

“Celebrate the miracle that is a child’s wonder!”

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T his child gazes wonderingly out of her open bedroom window. This warm Spring night in May she has captured the Flower Moon, bloomed full. This night they hold in share dreams of the future, the near and the far. Colorful pails on the ocean’s beach, festooned in starfish and octopus. The sweet taste of jam on buttered crustless bread, only a little smudged on smiling cheeks.

Lipstick smeared on a giddy grin. Tea and cookies with bear, bunny, mrs. whiskers — and daddy. There will be crayons, play-doh, soccer balls, skinned knees, and confusion about stupid boys. There will be hair curls, and muddy hands. What a joy she will know, lost in the world of pretend.

Then the further strum of imagination, that brings song to the burgeoning young heart. The rhythm of spirit that brings the thrill of dance to young feet, that elevates the courage of youth, that will help drive away the awkwardness, fear and sadness.

An all-night campfire shared with friends beneath a canopy of forever stars. More questions about boys, maybe girls — this time different questions. Questions about her body, about tomorrow, as the hands of time carry her dreams into the future, toward the doors opening on possibility.

But now, this moon child is filled with excitement! Amazed, wondering, wishing — she is loved, happy, and safe.

night moon’s miracle
holds eternity’s promise
brings sweet tomorrows


*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 


For my daughter Jennifer — smart, strong, beautiful, and remarkably brave.

Diplopia


 

W e cannot hide
as comes an unquestioning fate
that breaths in the space
of destiny’s light and dark
in the days of falter and fear
of divisive polarity
in this vital odyssey
descending unbridled
with critical momentum

a duality
that moves
unsteady in the ether
of unquenchable doubt

yet your heart must embrace
in the spirit
of truth and forgiveness

that which is pure
tested by time
and the wanting hands
of the waiting
who cower
yet smile

singing truth
through the hail and barrage
‘cross the bow mast
of freedom
seeking broad measure and berth

as all that you seem to desire
slips slowly away
like rain down a spout
and nightmares plumb deep
the sphere of darkest dreams

break free
of this duplicitous error

open
and see

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

See other responses to this photo: Mindlovemisery

 



Un-earthed

…Space waltzing…


 

Y our love has me floating
on clouds of enchantment
as higher and higher
my feet leave the ground

my spirit is weightless
my heart is in flight
I am light as a feather
my dreams are unbound

this feeling is magic
like spinning in space
love beats in my heart
such a beautiful sound

I am covered in stardust
I’m waltzing on moonbeams
your kiss has un-earthed me
I’ll never come down

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Camping With Gary

inspired by the brilliant poetry of naturalist Gary Snyder…
This poem loosely based oh his “A Walk” & “How Poetry Comes To Me”.


 

P eering over from cliff’s edge
high above the churning fall
of the steel-blue stream
I watch trout slide in then out
of the soft break of a bolder’s shade

across the stone canyon
cut by this persistence of current
an Osprey stands — focused sentinel
measuring the timing and tactic
of his imagined next meal

down the steep granite face
through the white aspen and Douglas fir
giant chinquapin and Oregon madrone
I descend at steady pace
bent-knee’d and cautious

I throttle and steer
with boot tread and leather palm
followed by a fine dusted slide
of clattering limestone pebble
and dry needle

down to the stream-side grass patch
then alertly hop
rock to rock
‘cross the dance of crystal chill stream
to make camp in this wilderness canyon
midst the quiet rush
of the Clackamas waters
and the hushed murmur
of tall Ponderosa bough

here to rest and meditate
mesmerized by this eden
and to commiserate with Mr Snyder

he’s tagged behind all afternoon
pestering my thoughts
with the urge of verse

finally
by this night’s fire
he approaches carefully
in words taking wafted form
rip’ling ‘cross the crisp white water
stumbling over the moonlit boulders
staying just outside my campfire’s light
just out of clarity

my muse in company
I invite Gary’s spirit
to join
inside this ring of light

he comes

I hear his words
voiced more distinctly
more clearly in my mind

I listen openly
under his influence
as words begin
falling to paper

 

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

In tribute to Gary’s zen lifestyle, and his embrace of Shugendo mysticism.
He currently resides and meditates in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains.

Wounded


 

S o I applied a strong salve
of feigned indifference

then wound my wounded heart
in a protective dressing of pride
preventing the lethal infection
of seeping abject despair
from poisoning my spirit
and scarring my soul

but instead
promoting the growth
of healing hope

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Bad Ass


 
A stare of comely crystal blue
floats above a ruby pout
she takes you in devouring
has her way, then casts you out

tongue tip teases top lip’s edge
like a supple paintbrush flowing
her smile will burn and hypnotize
it wraps around you knowing

beautiful eyes — worldly wise
sleek as steel — tall and strong
swift and cunning — motor running
she might acquiesce, but not for long

think this women might be meek
that would be a big mistake
treat her like you think she’s weak
she will make your small earth — quake

poor fool who seeks this goddess
is way out of their class
there’s only one word for this life-force
that word, my friend, is — bad ass!

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

 

…bad ass…

Sky Hunter


 
T he grand sunset gun in hand
sky hunter steadies his firm grip
as the great golden orb of day
returns weary from his trip

beautiful quicksilver moon
readies for her night’s course
sky hunter fixes sharpened eyes
his grand duty to enforce

as starmaster reaches gently
into the vastness of quiet space
with handfulls of night diamonds
prepared to sparkle into place

then sky hunter locks the horizon
in his sunset gun’s true sight
and blasts his fiery colors
to welcome the coming night

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

 

NOTE: below is ‘Firing Up The Sunset Gun’, by: Animal Logic .

drums Stewart Copeland, bass Stanley Clarke, singer-songwriter Deborah Holland.

Blue Ripples


 

M emories of you
ripples on a mirrored lake
rise and roll gently
into the golden sunlight
carry me on their blue crest

C lear blue summer sky
deep azure crystalline lake
cool breeze on my face
fresh scent of water lilies
ripples gently lap the boat

D rifting in the blue
your face floats soft in my mind
like ripples of smoke
rising in my memory
wafting into gentle tears

L ike blue herons soar
feathers rippled in the winds
my sweetest dreams sail
back through tears of memory
when blue skies smiled on our love

 

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Hold On

 

“O nly mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things?” “Wha… what the hell was that?” I wake, staring into the darkness, when again comes, slightly garbled, “only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things?”

Turning the lights on I see a fiend of mine, who’s been sitting in the dark, mumbling. “Dante, what the hell’re you saying” I question, staring quizzically at him. Again he says, “only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things? I read it in a book. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t have the first damned clue what that means, or who that might be,” I reply, dumbfounded. “Hold on!” I exclaim, “Got an idea! Maybe it’s — Tom Waits!?”


*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 




Bad Weather


M ornin’ Leo, headin’ to work
yeah Frank, runnin’ late, as usual
how’re the wife and kids Leo
good, they’re good Frank
how’s your family
well Leo, the kids are good
but me’n m’wife — well…
we’re havin’ some issues Leo
well, that’s a shame Frank
yeah Leo, ya’ know…

she blew into my life like a typhoon
a hurricane of love
her kisses hot as lightning
striking from above

her passion was a tempest
I was swept up in its force
but now the winds have died
this storm may have run its course

my thoughts are grey and cloudy
my eyes at times do rain
my heart’s caught in this cold front
bad weather’s bringing pain

I hope the warm winds will return
as well — the clear blue skies
but my freezing heart does yearn
to again see sun-fire in her eyes

well, that sucks Frank, sorry to hear that
but ya’ know what they say
love is like the weather — and a traffic light
it’s frustratin’, but jus’wait, it’ll change
OK, this light has changed
so I gotta get to the office — take care Frank
yeah, me too, my in-box is overflowin’
you take care Leo
say hi to the family

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

 


Two Winters


O h to frolick in the fallen snow
to feel it cruch beneath my feet
to see the glistening whiteness roll
and feel the crisp chill on my cheek
walking in this winter wonderland

it’s damned hard walking in fresh snow
my feet are soaked and totally numb
snowblindness certainly is no joke
and this Bell’s Palsey really is no fun
this winter wasteland is a frozen hell

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse