Day: July 9, 2022

Yes
it’s definitely a tough world
a fractured world
a frightening situation
feels like it’s all
coming completely apart
hard to keep going at times
damned difficult
keeping your head above water

mentally
emotionally
financially
spiritually
makes one crazy sometimes

the constant bad news
climate degradation
ecological collapse
runaway gas prices
pandemic
war
political turmoil
lies masquerading as truth
sometimes it’s just too much
almost makes you wanna hide

but remember
no matter how overwhelming
no matter how disheartening
even terrifying
things might be
you always have me
my love
and if we
as mindful inhabitants
of this fragile planet
will extend each other
patience
understanding
and love
this fractured world
can be nurtured and healed
and darkness will sustain no grip

…keep that love light burning!

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

more poetry at: earthweal

even more poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

As a proud conscientious elder of the planet, I present — “The Dead”

…and Michael, in one of his finest moments…

~ a jazz cat ~

Damn man

try as I might my friend
I just can’t configure a chord

not with my pretty little
padded pussycat paws

nuh uh
not happenin’

if I strain my little toes
and stick my claws waaay out
I can almost get decent dyads

at least dissonant ones
ones I bet Ornette woulda liked
and probably Charlie too

but man

just ain’t no way
I can spread for a triad
major or minor

ain’t gettin’ there dude

but
wait a minute

maybe if I use my mouth
you know
kine’a ligh dis

nope

hell no
ain’t makin’ it

n’that hurt

but
wow

this middle “C”
tastes pretty damned good!

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Ornette Coleman and Charlie Haden

Molten round
the wolf’n eye
soft and round
the ripening breast

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

there is a lie
in that circled moon
that surrounds
a cruel charade

it walks in shadows
collecting tears
‘til midnight’s debt
is fully paid

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

that cold and soulless
canid eyes
will cleave the sweet
in the blood moon’s wild

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

and guilted hearts
will hide away
to deny at dawn
the truth they saw

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse