November 2024 – Image & Verse

T’day Food Porn

~ Eat ‘til you stuff your belly pouch — then fall asleep on the livin’ room couch ~

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Fall Feast” by: rob kistner © 11/28/24

Got the turkey on the table
we’ll eat as much as we’re able
and sautéed green beans — man oh man
stuffing is a really big hit
sweet corn – can’t get enough of it
mashed taters made the dinner plan
we’ll wrap it up with punkin’ pie
rich whipped cream piled high as the sky
food porn with good wine — such a fan!

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Pumpkin Custard Cinnamon Chocolate Pie”
by: rob kistner © 11/28/24

*
rob kistner © 11/28/24

Poetry at: dVerse

Regal Rag Man

~ Magical memory of a naive 6-year-old small-town boy from 1952 ~

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Regal Rag Man” by: rob kistner © 11/28/24

Rags-ole-iron, he called out loudly
rags-ole-iron, his cart rolled our road
collecting scraps of post World War II
gathered in a this’n’that recycled load

he had a slow n’steady way about him
from where he came — I never knew
he always seemed quite magical to me
like some enchantment had come true

he was such a mystery to this young boy
tattered mad-hatted wizard from the past
I’d hear his call echo between the houses
I’d rush wonder-filled to watch him pass

his wheels rumbled quietly on the pavement
his piled bounty clicked n’clacked n’clattered
he came out of a dream then into a memory
somehow I felt his regal purpose mattered

time-to-time he still passes in that memory
rumbling down that misty street of long ago
where he came from and to where he went
truly a magical mystery I care never t’know

*
rob kistner © 11/28/24

Poetry at: dVerse

Dual Suns

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Dual Suns” by: rob kistner © 11/26/24

The dual suns
still above the horizon
warm me as I journey
casting the strange landscape
into stark vivid presence

planet Terrius

its orange suns
and black sky
make this alien world
startling
yet fascinating

I embarked at solar midday
senses alive and alert
consumed by the thrill of exploration
heady with anticipation of discovery

given the physical evidence
present on the planet’s surface
of seeming ordered thinking
I had set out today believing
or certainly hoping
I might make first Terrian contact

but it is day’s end
the suns are setting

darkness spreads
over this severe terrain
void of color

early shadows fall across my face
a veiled foreboding settles upon me

there are many shadows here
other shadows
odd shadows
unfamiliar

disturbing specters
that disrupt my nights
disquiet my soul
steal my peace

they come unannounced
almost imperceptible

but no time for worry
there is still far to go

I am eager to move
drawn by the need
to reach my ship

to reach safety

yet here I stand
momentarily motionless
immobile with uncertainty

yet captivated

captivated by the haunting beauty
that is this planet’s rising moon

Astarus

not unlike earth’s
but more harsh

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Astarus — Terrian Moon”
by: rob kistner © 11/26/24

a steel blue glow
with an amber aura

mesmerizing
hypnotizing

I shudder and sober
turn into the evening winds
and venture onward
across this foreign world

again the shadows shift

dull confusion finds me

I lose my pace
draw up in momentary halt

nagging concern engulfs me
panic pierces my solace
bewilderment grips me

unwelcome
it holds me
uncomfortable in my skin

these feelings sweep over me
clouding briefly my purpose
obscuring my destination

finally they waft

across the darkening valley
lies my shuttle craft
my safety

urgently I proceed
but again my mind fogs

I wander
and once more lose focus

an eerie mist
settles like a shroud

every night
there is a moonset
pitch black is coming
coming much too quickly

pitch black is lethal
save for my heated suit

the frightening night noises
unsettling dreams
squander my sleep

I am exhausted

suddenly
an alarm startles

my suit’s battery pack
has failed

my helmet beam
now inoperable
communications dead
suit heater disrupted

cut off
alone
I am in dire trouble

a sense of peril gnaws
builds

paralyzing fear

I have lost all light
oxygen tanks nearly spent
my suit temperature dropping
I fear I’ll loose my way

I will not make it back
before pitch black
consumes me
takes me
alone
here

so far from earth
so far from home
so far
from you

so far

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Listen

”The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness” — John Muir

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Sacred Space” by: rob kistner © 5/7/24

Deep
in this primeval wood
secreted among the old-growth
nestles a sacred forest clearing

soft filtered sunlight
falls golden
gently through the canopy

let us go

walk with me my friend
but let us be quiet

let us listen
to the voices of nature

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Matter o’Balance

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Matter o’Balance” by: rob kistner © 11/24/24

Far if not near
if there not here
one is not
without the other

so is up to down
and on to off
in to out
as hard to soft

it’s good or bad
happy sad
young or old
if hot not cold

it’s stop to go
either yes or no
as is likewise
fast to slow

dark and light
as in day and night
the quintessential
he and she

it is the two
defines the dance
opposites aren’t chance
they’re a matter of balance

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Sir DaVied & The White Dragon

In memory of my friend, “piano man” David Dominy, who passed 03/05/2005. This is presented in fairy tale form, partly fact and partly fiction — but no happy ending. It is based on a brother musician, with whom I made music, and whom I loved. He was taken down by the evil, insistent white dragon. He would have been 74 Saturday. Tuesday’s dragon prompt called my attention to this older piece.

Original DDE™ surreal art: “The White Dragon” by: rob kistner © 11/20/24

He had such a great laugh
and talent 100 fold

he was a keyboard wizard
who conjured hard won magic
on a daily basis

riding persistent sentry
over his mighty
sleeping white dragon

keeping it at bay

protecting himself
and loved ones
from its ravaging fire

the white dragon had held him captive
for over seven years
having overtaken him one day
in a careless moment of weakness
when this wizard had been foolish
and let down his guard

but the brave wizard
Sir DaVied as he was known
had again found his courage
and fought back the white dragon
driving it into submission
difficult and tentative as it was

sadly though
the cunning dragon
would not be held down
and in a moment
when the wizard’s vigilence
had sadly waned
the white dragon pulled Sir DaVied
once more under his evil spell

on this fateful day
the wizard’s infectious laughter
had become infected lunacy

his beautiful dreams
had again become dread

as the nightmares returned
the evil white dragon
imprisoned the wizard
in its dark and haunted lair

it was reported
Sir DaVied’s rants
could be clearly heard
above the bustle
of the homeward privileged
that passed unaware
of the wizard’s dilemma

the battle had raged long

coarse rants and ramblings
rose from the rancid shadows
until in final desperation
fetid hands lit the fateful fire
that brought to boil
the white magic potion
of the wizard’s deliverance

he’d slipped the cold steel
into the froth of sweet promise
still warm with transformation
and drew the white magic potion
into the glassen’d vessel
of ultimate escape

tied and tapped into submission
distraught from battle
this magical musical wizard
impaled his demons
with the white dragon’s dagger
hoping the potion
would drive back the monster

saving himself yet again

but not this time
no deliverance this time

the cunning white dragon
broke down the wizard’s defense
and claimed the brave wizard
as silver-white sleep
carried him away

the wizard was gone

gone on his silver steed
for his final ride
to the realm of no return

now the wizard’s castle
is in abandoned disarray

no lights to stave off darkness

the piano is broken-keyed
caked with time and neglect

no more does the wizard
descend the marble stairs
and glide back
the black lacquered bench

nor lay hands
on the polished ivory
to control the mighty Steinway

no more does he confidently caress
and coax those keys to his commands

no more do the beautiful strains
of the gold-framed
spiral-string soundboard
waft tenderly up the staircase

nor ring gently
in the empty atrium

no — the wizard DaVied
has passed

but in my soul
in my heart
his spirit
his music
(((echoes on…)))

Photograph by Romain Thiery

*
rob kistner © 2021
revision © 2024

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

Poetry at: dVerse

A Dragon Rises

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Evil Incarnate” by: rob kistner © 11/29/24

When the most diabolical
believe they have risen above
the blood, the shit, the afterbirth
of their human origin

when in their reflection
they see perverse transcendence
towards entitlement
in which no allegiance
or kinship of nature
binds them to their center

nor founds them in the
fevered fumbling fury
of the frightened flesh parade
in which they lock step
flailing for survival

when their insanity of arrogance
so distorts their vision of history
of time
of the ancient

of the sweating
bone-broken reality
of human swill and wallow
through which they likewise trudge

shiny shoes or no

when they blatantly begin
to eat their own
while copulating with false gods
on forsaken gilded altars
of greed
of megalomania
of perjured horrors

then the hour of the beast
is certainly at hand
and the terror of the dragon nature
will rise up
in unbridled evil
attempting to impose
to dominate

if we do not slay this dragon
we will all become
the hulking mass
of the apocalypse
deserving to be struck down

and our fool’s hearts
torn out and severed
by the self-inflicted rapier
of raw ignorance
of lethal indifference

and our empty husks
immolated
on the pyre of gullibility
in the flames of banished
abandoned truth

and cowardice

the decision turns
the direction is poised

that moment is here

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

The Brin

“This is a long-form, free-verse, sci-fi poem.”

Terraformed Earth after the Brin invasion.

The Brin

the new sun
still crisp and bright
warms me as I journey

it paints the strange landscape
in a vivid foreign luminescence

since the Brin arrived
placed their electro-sun in orbit
and terraformed earth
this has become a startling alien world

the Brin are a beautiful species
but ruthlessly predatory

most of humanity
has been captured or killed
I am a surviving fugitive
hiding in an ancient fallout shelter

I embarked at midday
senses alive and alert
hoping I would make contact
with other fugitive humans
survivors of the invasion

they exist
I’ve observed evidence

but it is day’s end
the Brin sun is slowly setting
moonlight will soon bathe
this exotic terrain

our moon still orbits
compatible with their terraforming

early shadows fall across my face
a foreboding settles upon me

there are many shadows now
odd shadows
disturbing specters
that disrupt my nights
disquiet my soul
steal my peace

they come unannounced
almost imperceptible

but no time for worry
there is still far to go
yet here I still stand

captivated

by the haunting
yet terrifying beauty
that is our altered planet

I shudder and sober
turn into the evening breeze
and venture onward
immersed in the eerie blue glow
of the now dimming Brin sun

I am eager to move
drawn by the need to reach my shelter
to reach safety

there are other shelters
so I continue my search
for others still alive
as is now my daily routine
which includes hunting for fuel
used to heat and cook

I burn a pulpy Brin plant
which they call Griscalka
now plentiful on earth

I hunt the Masocca
a Brin wild animal
which I discovered is edible

I scrounge for water
unfortunately not plentiful
but it is part of the Brin ecosystem

in this moment
exhausted
feelings of loss sweep over me
clouding briefly my focus

then they waft
I see across the darkening valley
my shelter
my safety

I’m caught
by a thought

our ancient ancestors
built these fallout shelters
to protect human life

but they never imagined
it would be the remaining few
of all humanity
they’d protect
from predatory extraterrestrials

~ ~ ~

Brin Primest Elite – male 087C8556-DF39-4ECD-A747-D776BAF8E6BF

Brin Queen 8A62E9B3-04F7-4312-B689-E401F70F97C2

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Brin Mothership” by: rob kistner © 11/18/24

9272C11D-31F8-4CF9-9E49-036963C3CDC4
Original DDE™ surreal art: “Brin Troop Assault Vehicle” by: rob kistner © 11/18/24

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Terraformer Venicle” by: rob kistner © 11/18/24

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Rapid Ship to Surface Shuttle” by: rob kistner © 11/18/24

TO POSSIBLY BE CONTINUED…
This poem was my way of allowing earth, with outside help from the Brin, to strike back and wake we humans up to how we have mistreated our mother Gia. I took my vision of this piece much further in my mind. In the scenario I had imagined, this was several hundred years in the future and there had been a second phase of higher tech shelters built and concealed worldwide, around the year 2100, in response to another wave of significant global conflict, among the people of earth — long before there was even any awareness of the Brin, or that any other extraterrestrials existed. So if the few survivors of the Brin invasion made it to the shelters around the globe — then it would depend on how well the world fared against the Brin. I haven’t yet thought what the number of human survivors might be though. Remember, a number of survivors have been captured and enslaved by the Brin, so there is a potential of more humans escaping into the landscape as well. I would say a total of 20-25% of the world population survived the initial Brin onslaught. Some now imprisoned, some now on the run as fugitives around the globe — not sure right now how those two groups would break down in number. Also, here is a critical point impacting the taking of this story forward. The human communication grid on the earth’s surface is destroyed. However, there is still one communication satellite remaining in orbit, there’s just no way to link to it. Or, might that be painstakingly possible, with major effort by the right faction of fugitives (maybe even some Brin sympathizers)? Hmmmm… One final fact perhaps to consider — the Brin may have enemies out in the universe, capable of space travel. — — Anyway… That is the likely overall situation in which this story could continue?

Click to check out more ”Fallout” poems at Toads

Click below to read poems at dVerse:
https://dversepoets.com/2019/09/19/ever-been-close-to-a-whale/

Captured Light

Original DDE™ surreal art: “Path of Captured Light” by: rob kistner © 11/18/24

We’ve watched golden fire clouds, hanging in the bright cerulean skies, here over the azure seas of our Toluras home. We have walked to anointment here, on the sacred Path of Captured Light. We’ve seen the copper leaves of the Parmus fronds, flashing from our Indigo Mountains, in the crisp crystal Gemin mists.

We have strolled quietly, hand in hand, in the lush emerald meadows of Telma, sharing its golden Angel Fruit, sweet as our stolen kisses. We’ve heard the haunting call of the coral winged Lellurt, in Droon’s violet skies, over teal Darpin Bay.

We have beheld exquisite beauty in our rich, full life — but none so breathtaking, my love, as your eyes tonight. Now fate deems I must go. If you find yourself lonely, missing me, look into the night sky. The eternal splendor it holds is our everlasting love.

so please, once more love
come look at the stars with me
they are beautiful

*
rob kistner © 11/18/24
Poetry at: dVerse

Fiddler’s Green

~ Sometimes, the storm is not out there, but within us. ~

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Storm Tossed” by: rob kistner © 11/14/23

~ A SEA SHANTY ~

—< § >—

Loved my life — yet life felt empty
was then I looked the water’s way
a racing sailor’s life for me

a solo skiff to set me free
a schooner for a crewing day
a racing sailor’s life for me

I sailed with speed to victory
this racing life blew me away
a racing sailor’s life for me

sometimes the sea roared angrily
sometimes a peaceful rocking sway
a racing sailor’s life for me

I raced no fear relentlessly
and lived my dream life ev’ry’day
a racing sailor’s life for me

weather harsh or weather kindly
in gratitude I’d always pray
a racing sailor’s life for me

the oceans roll and trade winds blow
I now ride heaven’s ebb and flow

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Southern Cross — a constellation used for navigation in the southern oceans.

Fiddler’s Green — a sailor’s heaven for those lost at sea.

Fragile

MY INSPIRATIONS FOR THIS PIECE: “ i imagine that yes is the only living thing and i imagine that hope is the only stopping place.” — e e cummings

——-——<§>——-——

The fragile, unpredictable, but often surprising power of hope! Never give up!

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Fragile & Vulnerable” by: rob kistner © 11/12/23

Making a gaudy show of leaving
hoping she would turn and stop him
walking out the door – he’s hoping
always looking back and hoping
wondering her change o’season
hoping it would matter to her
hoping that an empty place
would open in her heart
that only he could fill
he’s hurt and fragile
hoping his leaving
left such a void
hoping deeply
ever hoping
a lost leaf
blowing
away
sad
so
§
as
a lone
brittle leaf
lost n’stranded on
life’s hardened highway
can be so easily crushed
by apathy’s traffic
so sadly hope
can too
be

but so too can be the surprising power of hope ~ if one strives !

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

What the…

Trying to find even a small smile midst these tears of horror!

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Oh Horrors” by: rob kistner © 11/8/24

What the…
how’d this happen again

the fascist megalomaniac’s back
spewing his racist
misogynistic
shit

he ain’t morally fit

the jerk-wad’s a criminal
his message ain’t subliminal

it’s right there in your face
he’s a damned disgrace

the 3%’s in luck

Poetry at: dVerse

The Cruel Sun

The evil glare of Trump’s cruel sun scorches decency…
he should never have been allowed to rise again.
And yet we, as a supposed decent people, have failed again — unimaginably!
The war to dismantle America began without a single shot — and we’re losing.

Vivid

in this waking dream
this nightmare
I see shapes of faces
scabbed unsmiling lips

their void curve
denounce this time

they’re escaping the scald
fleeing the cruel sun
as fate is dancin’
broken in the moonlight

the victimized
yet unseen
blackened and charred
by the agenda
of this abomination
this cruel sun

they bemoan
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 false promise made

frayed as feigned wisdom
leaned in
whispered from behind
obscured by the backhand

I reach
to grab at time
like dropped money

ever more precious

doing so
I feel the shiver
the sad imbalance

it’s a confliction
in the omnisoul
in my soul

so
I’ll practice non-attachment
because I can

knowing
I must
in this time

and observe
the lonely lost
who’ve trapped their truth
in dreams
locked in a wired cage

wholly removed
indifferent

but still
pieces of me
of my sorrow
stick to them

to whomever
gets too close

you may have seen me
sobbing

silhouetted against the sky
that coldest night in November
cowering
under the frozen moon

then that moon and I
sought to escape
running down corridors of time

from genuine memory
through illusion
hiding from the devious
cruel sun

the whole world
close enough to touch

yet distant
distracted

past false truth
past illusion
past hypocrisy
past monomaniacal delusion

heaped and layered
thick and deep

oh please
peel back
these poisoned layers

peel them away
to clear the way
for a clean
quivering soul

uncertain
but imbued with
curiosity for possibility

because these stale
cutting thoughts
infect my thoughts
making them too pressing
too heavy to hold

or chew
or swallow
or lug
in this massive bag
of regret

my thoughts
my madness

spawned in the bone-white lies
of morality plays
immorality plays
mortality plays

I will play a dirge
sing a bittersweet song
as we come together
as we join
to peel back
all these noxious layers

these brackish
thought
layers

held fast and firm
by this oppressive
cruel sun

seared into my soul
by that caustic smile
that baboonish grin
that devious faux smile
that sours to bitter
in the brittle grey
that settles
like a shroud
through the overcast
in these dark days

a brandished
weaponized smile
a lethal smile

his radar eyes
scan the forgotten creases
and clandestine getaways
in our minds

squelching our truth

standing over
he looks down
icy eye’d

he sees my scabbed lips
cracked and dry
“cruel sun gotcha”
he smirks
with lethal contempt

let us all cry out
“no more”

let us rip away
this venom
this lethal virus
this heartless evil
so that a new dawn
a new sun will rise
spread its light
and warm our hearts
with the radiance of rebirth

let enlightenment rain
let love pour down
drown this cruel sun
and rekindle the flame of hope

or perhaps a brave savior
wielding the lightning
to solve this blight

Poetry at: dVerse

A dramatic shift in how conflicts now unfold has successfully occurred. Rather than relying on traditional military might, nations and groups now effectively leverage the power of information, ideas, and technology to shape public opinion, influence political outcomes, and create division. This type of conflict—often described as “information warfare”—involves the strategic use of propaganda, misinformation, and blatant lies, supported by clever cyber tactics to undermine traditionally strong societies from within.

In an interconnected world where people get their information online, the battle for hearts and minds now takes place in virtual spaces. Cyber attacks, disinformation campaigns, and the manipulation of social media to stir mistrust and dread, while disrupting economies, weakening trust in institutions, and sowing discord among citizens. These tools are as powerful as, if not more so than, physical weapons, especially when they influence the very fabric of a society’s beliefs and values. World War III is upon us, being waged with weapons more devious and destructive than military. WAKE UP!

Joy Rises

Inspired by my ongoing fantasy of flying.

Joy rises
over the earth today
as the thermals
‘neath my wings
lift them to soaring

it’s off into space
my dreams I’m exploring

lifting me aloft
in free floating flight
my spirit’s alive
in this sacred delight

left to my heart’s abandon
my destination random

I hear the earth’s whisper
the breeze’s sigh

they say
this is how it feels to fly

the soft sounds waft
lilting into the sky

I’m lifting
drifting
as high
and far
as thermals will permit

my searching soul
eager to submit
as I feel the winds
take me

soaring high
into a brilliant sky

leaving the clouds
far below
like ever rolling
pillow‘d snow

until all I hear
murmuring in my ear
is the voice
of the breeze
and the song
in my soul

watching the world
bend away
over the infinite horizon

I see life
from a new perspective

seeking clarity
my new-found objective

my dream since a child
to soar the blue heaven’s wild

that my young prayer be heard
to fly like a bird

now is when
I at last begin
the revealing journey
far out and deep in

swept up
and away
in ever-climbing rise
ascending today
with wide open eyes

high above this world of ours
the tiny blue planet
among the vast stars

into low altitude
outer-space
a child’s smile
upon my face

silently upward
as joy rises

More Poetry at: d’Verse

River of Time

“Time does not pass, it continues — with or without us.”

A traveler on this river called time, it ever flows within my mind. It rolls onward, I ride its tide. Much I’ve seen, much I’ve experienced, much I’ve missed, much left behind. Yet I carry on, to seek, to find. I grip tightly to this strand continuum, doing so mindfully.

I’ve encountered the unknown, lost my way and suffered sorrow. I’ve embraced such wonder, finding enlightenment, a newborne tomorrow. I’ve understood and known joy. Losing confidence, I’ve acted coy. Misunderstood and known tears. Been overwhelmed and known fears. But ever on this river rushes, and I will ever flow.

I will follow the changing moon, out of the ninth-month midnight, through December’s cold, to the warmth of June. Through time’s extremes, to hold the dreams I embrace as mine. To live in the elusive now, the held breath in the current of time.

Poetry at: dVerse