Author: Rob Kistner

I’ve always liked these exposed filament lights
hanging at random heights and space at Amelia’s
boldly here in Am’s front window — for all to see

reminded me of the diversity of her customers
each reasonably transparent with our agendas
each brightly afire with a burning love of jazz

she says it makes the place warm and friendly
their off-white glow, leaning a bit to golden
casts a comfortable friendly ambiance — welcoming

the conversation hovers in trend-topical bursts
hot yet quietly — controlled to a respectful degree
the jazz is cool, but crisp with an edge of freedom

we sizzle mellow, trippin’ on brilliant blistered riffs
no matter the season, the burn of the ringin’ bellhorns
keep us hypnotized and synchronized — snap-ap-ap’n

Amelia’s is a tuesday night paradise — angels a’plenty
and a dolla’ getcha a three-side of Am’s miracle ribs
smoke, sauce, ‘n slaw — nuff ta make a heathen love jesus

we, the helplessly hopeless menagerie of jazz junkies
dig the vibe that goes down every buck’a’shot tuesday
and these cats can play — keeps these hang-bulbs rattlin’

Amelia’s is tuesday night church, and the hip souls worship
I shake/swear/stomp/sweat — then leave sanctified in joy
these random bulbs in Amelia’s window know all my sins

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Earthweal

b’day 2/18/47

Spent my 18th birthday
at Newport KY’s Flamingo Club
playin’ blue-eye’d soul
into the early mornin’

final set over at 4:00 am
we smuggled single malt
into the all night grill
for the crusty sunrise special

bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
we’re mixin’ with fellow players
from other early AM clubs

among willing groupies
and loud hangers on
all sittin’ and chattin’
a family of the night

steel-heart working girls
soul-bruised painted strippers
burnt drink slingers
and tired cocktail mules

hipsters grifters drifters
and slick gamblers
from behind the sealed doors
of those private upstairs rooms

swell perfumed boys
and sisters of the leather
queens and trannies
pimps pushers and the cops

we’re huddled and hidin’
from those cruel first rays
ready to scurry off
to our well-curtained rooms

it’s time to score
whatever gets us through
‘till sundown next
strikes up the band again

but right now the jukebox
volume up to the ceilin’
is blastin’ out the #1
You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’

many noddin’ — YES

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

“…a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping…”
— Paul Simon

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

The old place has lost its luster
but the memories still hold their glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
kept me safe and warm so long ago

the mornings were a bustling din
dad off to work and me late for school
but together at evenin’ dinner table
clean hands’n face — as was the rule

then dad and I tinkered in his workshop
as mom and baby bro’ would play
then round the hearth to sooth our bones
all sharin’ stories about our day

now off to bed in clean pajamas
a bedtime tale to make us thrill
wrapped in blankets of our family’s love
to keep us warm against night’s chill

wonderful dreams, seldom a nightmare
we all slept tight — safe ‘n sound
though the world was having troubles
at our home they nev’r came around

yes — the old place has lost its luster
but every memory still holds a glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
that kept me safe and warm so long ago

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

https://youtu.be/tTKp1RHuyoQ

Beauty in this world is fleeting
but as long as my warm heart is beating
it’s for love’s bliss I am entreating

you have set my longing heart afire
you burn in my midnight desire
sweet erotic dreams you inspire
my lustful soul is overheating

if I could wrap my arms around you
such intoxicating things we’d do
dreams of passion would be made true
my frail restraint is fast depleting

a temptress in a velvet glove
your touch I’d never tire of
a smoldering heat of forbidden love
these carnal visions keep repeating

I crave your lips I want you now
we must join together now somehow
I’ll taste your wild love — this I vow
from this wanton quest there’s no retreating

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/MSbgsWH1O_E

most especially
I will never forget
that perfect june morning
we trekked deep
into that ancient wood
to our favorite spot
— our secret clearing

the morning sun
filtered softly
through the canopy
drifting down golden
into our sacred space
setting your handsome face
aglow with an angel’s radiance

a breeze rustled the treetops
whispering of eternity
casting a magic spell

awed by the splendor
we talked long and quietly
leaning on the downed Douglas
that slumbers there in repose
perhaps for centuries
peaceful in its earthen bed

you were eighteen
off to college soon
so very excited
as certainly was I
I was so in awe of you
my brilliant beautiful son

in that instant
time suspended
life aligned
for a perfect moment
for a perfect memory
my very last of you

three weeks later
you were tragically killed

this precious memory
lingers here at peace
under this forest canopy
in our clearing
where my heart still journeys
to talk with you.

you left in your summer years
I will leave in my winter
our clearing awaits patiently
quiet – save the echoed laughter
of a father and son
in love with the forest
in love with life
in love with each other

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal

You look so sweet
so very inviting
so intoxicatingly tempting

fixated
my mind lingers
drawn by your beauty
lost in lustful attraction

hopelessly compelled
I abandon restraint
to bring my mouth
warm upon you
ever tenderly
but hungrily
urgently
fully

feeling you soft
and smooth
upon my searching lips
I bite you
gently
feeling your flesh
firm on my teeth

your juices glisten
trickle
dripping
from my trembling lips

your taste
earthen rich
tantalizingly tart
my tongue tingles
with luscious delight

your succulence
like love’s nectar
floods my mouth

captive to sinful excess
I devour
shamelessly

such sensuous pleasure
my sweet black cherries!

*
rob kistner © 2021

~ nothing quite as delicious as fresh-picked Oregon black cherries ~

Poetry at: dVerse

This video has nada to do with this poem, it’s just I really like it,
and Lindsey Stirling & ZZ Ward are my two current Queens of Music
— though Oregon black cherries do hold my heart!

Lindsey Stirling — violinist & modern dancer

Enchanted — I’m drawn to linger
to watch your magic fingers
dancing your taut strings
they resonate my soul

your bow glides
your eyes close
your hips roll

you float sensually ‘cross the floor
on wings, my passion soars
my hungry spirit longs for more

*
ridley lawrence tieke a/k/a rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

Creative writing at: Poets & Storytellers

Raise the carafe with care
pour forth freely
to drink deeply
this wine of friendship
aged to a vintage true

may it linger long
to sweeten your dreams
lighten your burden
warm your heart
and lift your spirit

may serenity be always yours…
salut!

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

Born of chaos
lacking heritage
void of order

year upon year
a freefall of frustration
searching for foothold

moment man
longing for clarity
for a sense of belonging

stopping is no option

to lose the way
is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one atrophies
grows rigid
with the rigor mortis
of apathy

stiff
with unbending ignorance
faltering in fear

paralyzed
gawking inward
at hopelessness
at failure

the giving in
the giving up

the rot
that sets in
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go
of dreams

of possibility

arthritic loss of faith
debilitates the soul
cripples
the manifest light
that shines forth
at the leap
into darkness

into uncertainty

into the sacred unknown

frozen is the cautious man
withered in a worried cage

not unlike the moment man
terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way
unmarked

and thus
bleeds out
the color of life
of living
to become cold
and grey

a putrefied husk
of brittled remorse
mired in regret
for never having
shone so brightly
as to blind
the eyes of death

stopping is no option

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Standing at the morning window
I watch the boulevard below

last night’s rain puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
held hostage
by tire and curb
as if abandoned
by the waters of earth

it shoulders its way
through the labyrinth
of clutter and gutter
in search of mother sea

this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets

I sit by this sun-filled window
with chai tea and curiosity
quietly serenaded
by the flocking feathered choir

and by the mourning news
prattling on the big screen

my ipad next to me
I peck at it periodically
attempting to write

I glimpse the tv sporadically
growing troubled by the broadcast
our continuing human plight
we can’t seem to get it right

amazing how we just never learn
when the answers seem so clear

but our egos are so dear
that neither side can hear
what the other side is saying
so everyone keeps playing
these apocalyptic games

keep it up — the world will burn

why do we
blindly and so stubbornly
choose to initiate and navigate
this labyrinth of insanity
repeating these same antics endlessly

nothing will be changed
just the same picture rearranged
as round’n’round we stumble
“we’re seeking peace”
said in a mumble
feigning wanting to get out
when in fact we just stay in
then right back around again
my patience is growing thin

round’n’round’n’round we go
caught in our ignorance
trapped by our arrogance
gambling with our existence
addicted to the maze

we never leave
this labyrinth of greed and deception

in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
reality grips
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup

no longer looking up
I just stare
distracted

the news anchor looks absurd
the lips continue sculpting words
but not a single one I’ve heard

deaf to what’s being said
I’m deep into my thoughts instead
imagining how different it would be

if love and logic ruled this labyrinthic world

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal

“Folding Time” by: rob kistner

As turns a minute to an hour
and an hour to a lifetime
lived mindfull and well invested

as turns the blossom to the pulp
that hangs sweetly in the orchard
ready to be tasted

as turns a breath into a tone
that turns that tone into a song
upon the singer’s lips

as turns a step into a mile
and a mile into a journey
back to a cherished one

as turns a reach into a hug
that wraps gently around the shoulders
of someone lost in grief

as turns a grin into a smile
and a smile to healing laughter
on the face of someone lonely

as turns a thought to imagination
and imagination into a vision
in a child’s fertile mind

as turns a seedling to a sapling
and that sapling to a tree
giving breath of life to this earth

as turns awareness to intention
and intention into an action
that makes a difference in this world

so too time has turned my heart
into a cresting wave
that breaks upon and sweeps the world
deep into the ocean of my love

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

~ I offer this song in peace & awareness of the eternal energy that is existence ~

 
“I would rather have a mind opened by wonder
than one closed by belief.”
— Gerry Spence

 
Like a flash of startling color
in a mystical midnight dream
butterflies just materialize
from out of nowhere it would seem

like fragile fleeting fairies
from a mysterious magical source
they flit and flutter dazzlingly
such a breathtaking tour de force

so frail and so diaphanous
such bold and brilliant wings
silently they float on air
enchantingly beautiful things

they dart with such abandon
they dance more than they fly
so weightless — so very joyous
a wondrous ballet in the sky

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

“It is not enough that we do our best;
sometimes we must do what is required.”
— Winston Churchill

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

What your dark mind must conceal
from the spirit
of joy and forgiveness

from that which is pure
tested by time
and the wanting hands
of the sacred crone
the waiting one
who cowers
yet smiles

woman aged of wisdom
warrior soul
spirit eternally reborn
transformed
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
as your nightmares plumb deep
the sphere of black dreams

this timeless crone
could be your miracle
your salvation — your way out
your frail breath
to carry you through your passing

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse