Month: September 2023

Original digital surreal art: “Chubby Chickaree” by: rob kistner © 9/28/23

 
Outside my Oregon window
here in the Cascade foothills
late afternoon celebrates

alive with September sun
and the scurry of small things
warmed by Summer’s soft surrender

post-equinox nature
awaits Autumn’s dressing
in splendid voice

the chuff of tree’d red squirrel
the American Red Squirrel

Tamiasciurus Hudsonicus

referred to by many
as the chickaree
or even pine squirrel

these chattery little bandits
prefer the higher-elevation
coniferous forests of Oregon

they blend their chittered bursts
with the songs
chirps
and trills of birds

chickadee
goldfinch
western bluebird
northern flicker
western tanager

and high airborne
osprey
hawk
and eagle

so many others
that fly
flutter
and flit
through the intoxicating
PAC Northwest mountain air

all the while
quick little chickaree

in lightning-fast raiding parties
are stealing
cracking
and eating
the black-oil sunflower seeds
that they effortlessly spill
from my
“strategically placed”
squirrel-proof
bird feeders

yeah / right!

nothing is safe
from these scampering
bushy-tailed brigands

they can climb straight up
an extremely slippery
pencil-thin
6’ tall black metal pole

utterly amazing

I watch it
still don’t believe it

cute as they are
they’re exasperating

these seed raids go on
under the patient eye
of a wise Red-Tailed Hawk

also with a mind on dinner

Original digital surreal art: “Patience”
by: rob kistner © 9/28/23

casually calling
from the very top
of a Sitka spruce
swaying in the crisp gilding sky

he watches

woven into this sonic tapestry
the sweet muffled belling
of a White Tailed deer
wandering in the safety of old-growth
whispering in these foothills

the quiet bark of a neighbor’s dog
echoes through the basin
up along the stream
signaling its curiosity

reminding me fondly
we have dear friends nearby

the soothing rustle of leaves
large and small
stirred by the breezes
waft through this valley

scented by bark
loam
and moss

by foothill wildflowers

the fragrances of living earth

as I swoon
my reverie is smartly punctuated
by the staccato of conifer cones
that fall from time to time

wrested free by pine squirrel
and chipmunk
conversing boisterously
high in the Douglas Fir
busy with their forage

wap! wap! wap!

cones strike the ground
and bounce off our roof

closely followed
by the flurry of their liberators
crunching their way
to the heart-meat of the cone

the delicacy
that elicits
this furious industry

some they hide away
for a later treat

I exhale softly
seated by my evening window
with tea
and fascination

mesmerized by all I behold

my spirit full
I am profoundly aware
of how blessed I am

how very precious
these moments are

and

that they will not last
forever

Original digital surreal art: “Evening Window”
by: rob kistner © 9/28/23

*
rob kistner © 9/28/23
Poetry at: dVerse

 
Evelyn thought — no
then Evelyn thought again
behold this paradise

yes

as the ‘s’
curled at the tip
then rolled slippery
off her tongue
a golden current
coursed along her spine

then tingled
down her inner thighs

then with a shiver
to her feet
causing her toes
to curl

so slightly

Original digital surreal art: “Evelyn”
by: rob kistner © 9/15/23

her body was charged
electric
all powerful

the power
of anticipation

a pure pleasure
pulsing to unleash

no restraints

the pulse
of the moon at its fullest
of the sun at its hottest

the wonderful chaos
of the universe

yes
oh yes

Original digital surreal art: “Bridge of Desire”
by: rob kistner © 9/26/23

she would cross this bridge
this bridge of desire
this bridge of mystery
this bridge of sighs

his bridge

she would enter this realm
his realm
to his sky castle
his pleasure palace
sanctuary of sated fantasies

his Xanadu

she would acquiesce

what wonders she imagined
Arbre Blanc du Plaisir
what wonders she desired

she felt the mounting thrill
of pending surrender
raw freedom

the heat
at the white hot core
of lust

Original digital surreal art: “Arbre Blanc du Plaisir”
by: rob kistner © 9/26/23

so she released
utterly
totally
to the manifestation
of a singular bliss

her essence
ran molten

it was the flow
of liquid need

she was his focus
his purpose
his hunger

she was his instrument
his joy

he
was her maestro
was her obsession
he was her madness

Original digital surreal art: “Such Beautiful Music”
by: rob kistner © 9/15/23

*
rob kistner © 9/26/23
Poetry at: dVerse

~ a bit of ONJ for some light distraction ~

Original digital surreal art: “Not Quite Rain” by: rob kistner © 9/21/23

 
M oments of not-quite-rain
approach easy and still
a gentle breeze blows
wafting sweet petrichor
tantalizes the nose

but should bad weather come
and there be not-quite-love
tears will cloud your eyes
turbulence dash your heart
as storm clouds split ink skies

Original digital surreal art: “Sky Fury”
by: rob kistner © 9/21/23

*
rob kistner © 9/19/23

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

 
B eauty filled the heart of moon child
wondrous earth set her dreams in motion
sunny beachs were one reason she smiled
as was moonlight on the sand by the ocean

Original digital surreal art: “Sand Castle Magic”
by: rob kistner © 9/19/23

sand castle’s magic, the gift of moon child
creating her sand castles left her beguiled
her vivid imagination was amazingly wild

Original digital surreal art: “A Child’s Trust”
by: rob kistner © 9/19/23

but now she, as do I, find it quite tragic
the way earth’s oceans have been defiled
her dreams have sadly lost their magic
broken, is the pure heart of moon child

Original digital surreal art: “But Why?”
by: rob kistner © 9/19/23

*
rob kistner © 9/19/23
Poetry at: dVerse

 
T he broken shutter
swung ungainly askew
in a sad sag

thumping ugly
with an awkward thunkity-thunk

walloping
with a wind-driven wack-bang
and troubling
thud-thud bothersome bumping

but the buzz-buzzing
the fucking buzz-buzzing
that was driving me mad

before that bastard could buzz again…

… Smash!

Original digital surreal art: “Battle Ready Squadron”
by: rob kistner © 9/18/23

*
rob kistner © 9/18/23
Poetry at: dVerse

Original digital surreal art: “The Machine of Time” by: rob kistner © 9/14/23

 
E ver accelerating
a spiral linearity

time

escaping into the future
tethered to the past

unfolding towards…
unreeling from…
…the elusive now

that eternal moment
moving forever away
yet always just behind
ever out of reach

the thing that — is
to then be — not

the restless essence
one cannot hold
but in each moment
one must behold

I have followed
this path of time
ever onward
as it’s led

been carried
on its tide

followed its rise
and its fall
in concentric circles
sweeping always outward

there is much I have seen
much I have experienced

much I’ve missed
lost
and left behind

much I’ve stumbled upon
stumbled over
always to collect myself
to quiet my mind

to follow on
the strand continuum
but to do so mindfully

Original digital surreal art: “Time’s Strand Continuum” by: rob kistner © 9/14/23

I’ve encountered the unknown
lost my way
and suffered sorrow

I have embraced the wonder
found enlightenment
a newborne tomorrow

I have understood
and known joy

losing confidence
I’ve acted coy

misunderstood
and known tears

been overwhelmed
and known fears

but ever on
this path does lead
and I
in measured step
must ever follow

pure time
unfolding
yet withholding

but — I know the mystery
I know the lie

I am not on
this path of time
the path is I

time resides
within my mind
perception’s gilded cage

it is herein
my truth of time
I’ll find

and as it slips away
its herein
I know the rage

so I will ride
the changing moon
from December’s cold
to the warmth of June

through time’s extremes
to seek the dreams
I embrace as mine

to ever seek
the elusive now
the held breath
in the folds of time

Original digital surreal art: “Portal of the Elusive Now”
by: rob kistner © 9/14/23

*
rob kistner © 9/14/23
Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/9rMdEDZULbc?si=k9AS6TF8kY0XNMUE

This final version of this gorgeous haunring song I offer, features Sandy Denny, the woman who wrote the song. Ironically, Sandy didn’t get much time. She died at age 31,
just as her career was beginning.

 
R eal
yes
I know this is real
and I know
I have been here
many times

I think

no
this is more than a thought
much more
I’m certain

yes
I have been here
my mind’s now clear
gone
the foggy curtain

this is a place I’ve been
and I am here again

it captivates me
tugging at me
drawing me in

this night
I cannot shake its pull
it fills my writer’s soul
to full

I know this place
known it all my life
foresaw this moment
would come in my time
this was my mystery to find
dreams of my youth were filled
with the recurring signs

but does this place
truly exist
or does it exist
only in my mind

do I know it
only as a memory
of a memory

or do I know it
as a memory
of a place

a place I have been

a place
whose red soil
I have trod

whose sun
so rich and golden
it could be spent
like money

a place whose air
wafts of cinnamon
and honey

whose slick shale mountains
cut dramatic silhouettes
into the alien sky

whose ground cover
the leaves of which
are the sweet taste
of finest licorice

and the berries
are as sweet
and as tart
as the ripest pomegranate

this is
a most wondrous planet

Original digital surreal art: “ Pájaröné Mating Birds”
by: rob kistner © 9/12/23

a place
whose beautiful black birds
accented crimson and sable
are known as Pájaröné

they fly in pairs
never alone

when in flight
they bell gently
blending as one

not unlike the call
of the white-tailed deer
of my enchanted Oregon

”gentle bird on the wing
it’s to my very heart you sing
it’s to my captive soul you call
my very essence you enthrall”

I swoon in reverie
when I hear the Pájaröné

oh this place
whose crystal waters
effervesce
in cordovan river beds

whose sparsely limbed
ebony trees
the Nêra’elbéro
shimmer coralesque

Original digital surreal art: “Nêra’elbéro Tree”
by: rob kistner © 9/12/23

the bark of which
tears easily away
to expose sweet under-bark

breadlike
delicately delicious
remarkably nutritious

also
heavy laden
nut bushes abound

ripened nuts fall
cluttering the ground

everywhere edibles
can be found

ever surprising
this exotic place

a place of contrasts
and contradictions

a place which
at first glance
seems almost baron
even hostile
but its eerie magic
does soon beguile

it stirs my soul
accelerates my heartbeat
fascinates my mind

it can spark my apprehension
and demands my utmost attention
to survive

a place quite harsh
so bizarrely otherworld-like
so unsettlingly foreign
that it’s magnificently strange
breathtakingly beautiful

a place from which
you cannot look away
whose extreme environment
presents a challenge everyday

still
you do not want to leave

yet here I am
back on Gaia Neuvo
new mother earth
with no useful recall
of when
nor how I returned

Original digital surreal art: “Space Orbs Return to Gaia Neuvo”
by: rob kistner © 9/12/23

but it feels
so much I’ve learned

is this just a memory
of a memory
a fantastical fictional creation
of my mind

or an amazing journey
prophetically foretold
in the dreams
of a clairvoyant 12-year-old

dreams of this place
called Beaurêvé

or is it in fact
not just a dream
but rather
a vivid memory of a place

a place
I realize I have been

and in my soul
so much
want to go again

to once more
marvel at the amazing
to seek wild adventure
embracing the vast unknown
trekking its landscape
wonderfully alone
awestruck
by the unbelievable

a phantasmagoric odyssey
that may be
for me
quite possibly
achievable

afterall — I am a writer

Original digital surreal art: “LaTieke the Celestial Poet”
by: rob kistner © 9/12/23

*
rob kistner © 9/12/23
Poetry at: dVerse

Original digital surreal art: “Comin’ 4 Ya” by: rob kistner © 9/7/23

is free will a verified conclusion
or simply a wishful illusion
can madness truly be deterred
as reality becomes irreversibly blurred
do you believe we truly can
ever escape from where we began

*
rob kistner © 9/7/23
Poetry at: dVerse

 
My footfalls
drum the root chambers
of the old growth
each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
in this ancient forest

enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I amble dreamlike

my walking stick is smooth
clutched comfortably
in my right hand

tensions dissipate
soothed
by the audible stir of the wind
in the treetops

wafting down the western Cascade slopes
it invigorates

the steady rhythm of my footsteps
hypnotize

rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
I crest a knoll
and stop

mesmerized

filtered by the towering woodland canopy
light drifts down dreamlike
settles golden
into the natural cathedral before me

a presence is tangible

as I pause cross-legged
here
on the smooth river rock
a breeze enfolds me
filled with the intoxicating scent
of living eartho

Original digital art: “Shinrin Yoku — Forest Bathing”
by: rob kistner © 9/6/23

an addictive bouquet
of cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
bark
loam
and ionized mountain air

my spirit rises
my being grows weightless
any sense of self floats away
lifted into oneness
wholeness
the bliss

Shinrin Yoku

suddenly
I’m startled from my reverie
to my feet

a young doe
bounds onto the trail ahead
stands proud
pauses in the golden light

Original digital surreal art: “Whitetail Wanderer”
by: rob kistner © 9/6/23
.
she considers me briefly
then disappears
quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time

darting my eyes
here then there
in a vain attempt to follow her
I catch a glimpse of silver-blue
reflecting resplendent
where massive tree trunks part

this is the reason for my trek
into this mighty wilderness

I step through the opening
and climb a huge boulder

I sit
pull my legs under me
and lean forward
arms folded
elbows on knees
basking in the energy

just below me
an enchanting tangle of driftwood
floats sculpture-like
unmoving

across the magical mirrored lake
rising spectacular
a chiseled mountain peak
coppered
in the evening sun

I grow very still
listen
gaze

rapt

I become this moment
in touch with my soul
with the eternal

transcendent

alone
in this pristine
old growth paradise

Original digital surreal art: “Mighty Ancient”
by: rob kistner © 9/6/23

*
rob kistner © 8/23/23
Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/02CXKnftM-4?si=EQS5YHo0qg3H_NuT

https://youtu.be/XkKWWvUQroo?si=zFWw9rDI-kGsv6Pl

 
I seek solace from my sorrow
I pray for each tomorrow
the nights are full of fears
I am adrift upon my tears

moonlight’s a chilling sliver
piercing deep my tearful shiver
shaken by uncertainties in my mind
peace seems so impossible to find

*
rob kistner © 9/4/23
Poetry at: dVerse