Day: February 16, 2023

S itting here
I play
off key
waiting
for the light
of inspiration

I watch the flow
of people

the shuffle of feet
with their different sounds
according to their shoes

I see shapes of faces
scabbed unsmiling lips

their void curve
denounce this evening
damp & dreary

they’re escaping yuck
the black hole sun
as fate is
dancin’ in the moonlight
yet unseen
black and charred
by this celestial anomaly
this heavenly abomination
this black hole sun

when the gossamer curtain
falls
defining these nameless

I sense
their soul’s duality

realizing
the divergent reality
through which
their truth
stumbles blind

to move in the world
rough as a rope
taut as every promise made

frayed as wisdom
leaned in
whispered from behind

I reach high
to grab at time
like dropped money
ever more precious

doing so
I notice the shoes
the belts
the bags

all made of leather

tanned hides
of the dead
innocent

I feel a shiver

a sad imbalance

a confliction
in my soul

so
I’ll practice non-attachment
because I can
M
knowing
I must

and observey
the lonely lady in red
whose trapped her words
on paper
locked in a wired cage

wholly removed
indifferent

but still
pieces of me
of my sorrow
stick
to her

to whomever
gets too close

you may have seen me
sobbing

silhouetted against the sky
the coldest night in January

playing
with the frozen moon

a duet
to make the coyotes
of this concrete
cower in their dens

then moon and I
sneak away

then we run
from room
to imaginary room
hiding from the devious
black hole sun

the whole world
close enough to touch

yet distant
distracted

much like the woman
in the black on white dress
deflecting
the rain of chaos
with her parasol

later
we will eat
a midnight lunch

white cheese sandwiches
dressed with dreams
and fragrances
of foreign lands

and onion’d thoughts
layered thick
and deep

oh
but please
peel back the layers
peel them away
to my clean

thin by thin
skin by skin
to my quivering soul

I hope
I am not hideousn
in your sight

I’m the 35mm man
show mercy

these thoughts
my thoughts
become too heavy to hold

or chew
or swallow

or lug
in this massive bag
of regret

my thoughts
my madness

bonewhite lies
of morality plays
open for you to peek

hope they are not
hideous in your sight

hope they do not
give you fright
make you cry

I will play
a sad song
as you peel back
all the layers

onion’d
thought
layers

held fast and firm

tonight
there is a schism
in the big apple
stitched red

a weight
in the force

like a carapace
to which
I’m stitched
and welded

and can no more leave
than you can truly enter

it ties me down
sometimes

but sometimes
barely so

survivor that I am

the inescapable optimism
in my barebones grin

my callused fingers
rebending strings
to make them sigh

my faux smile flashes
in the brittle moonlight
that rises
through the fog
this night

a night
of wounded dreams
as lovers
betrayed by love
wonder in their bed

what is this
all about…
alfie

really

and a patrolman
comes to where I sit
to look
see
and listen

his mag’s big beam
blinds the stars
from my eyes

brandishing his warm
weaponized smile

his radar eyes
scan the forgotten creases
and clandestine getaways
in my mind

searching my truth

standing over
he looks down
icy eye’d

he sees my scabbed lips
cracked and dry
“black sun got you”
“this is madness”
he says

but I know
one of us
can learn
a thing or two
tonight

if someone
pulls the bow
just right

presses the strings
down tight

plays
with insight

if someone
will just release the light
trapped by that black hole sun

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse