Rob Kistner – Page 55 – Image & Verse

The Folly of More

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The Folly of More

they rose gargantuan
these icons
of the clever human

they once vibrated
with the rush and chaos
of synapse and sinew

they hummmed
with networked urgency

a torrent of data
outdistancing comprehension

‘we can’
beyond the reach
of ‘should we’

multitudes chanting
more more more

a time too blind
to see its faulted fate
a time to turn back
sadly came too late

bedecked in stainless
stone
and arrogance

a halogen blaze
of neon fire
burnt logic

they surged
with the impulse of power
and greed

in varying shape
and differing size
they flanked for miles
in gridded corridors

that crissed and crossed
blinked and beeped
buzzed and hissed
they stank!

temples of avarice
now but this lone
crumbling monolith

this final tribute
to human folly

~ ~ ~

NOTE: To read more about folly: CLICK HERE

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Sal Vince & Frida

Sal Vince & Frida

seduced by the siren song
of sacred soul revelations
on this starry starry night
Sal Vince & Frida
are top down’n flyin’

sanctified artistic beings
stalking their unreal visions
as time and reality bends away
prowling the eclectic realm
lusting for some surreal magic

gesso-deep in life’s illusions
fingers burned to the bone
from fresco fire-dancin’
with the gouache-devils of
pain angst and perception

rollin’ like infernos
three combusting fireballs
longing to boldly set aflame
every forbidden bristle‘n bit
of passion knowledge and truth

~ ~ ~

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Nocturne (video poem)

NOTE: To watch me read Nocturne: CLICK HERE

Nocturne

hawk moon hangs heavy
in the damp night sky

bulbous moist pearl
rolling
in a cold chromium fog

wet slivers of cloud
smear themselves
across its face

irregular

like translucent sacks
of moonbeams

breathing

glassine billowing pillows
oozing

soaked with midnight

stars float and spark
glinting
dripping
shivering

frozen splintered crystal tips
diamond chips
pinprick rips
in blackened space

they wink and wane
and flutter
shattered bits of silvered light

snapping here then not

behind the ghostly white vapor
that slithers
through the firmament

the world
devoid of color
aglow in sterling grey
a negative of day

thick and chilled

filled with the sound
of stalking after-dark things

nocturne

the sorrowing hour
to lay bare your soul
in pale introspection

in grief of secrets

~ ~ ~

To read more poems at Poets & Storytellers: CLICK HERE

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Blocked

Blocked~

skull on finger bones
eyes aflame with spoiled sleep
no ink shed this night~ ~ ~rob kistner © 2020

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Forever Sacred

Forever Sacred

the consumed moon
haunts his grey life
stirring yellow dreams
of soured sorrow
stealing his solitude’s wish
of a soul’s peace
yet he will not despair

even trapped in torment
as in the skulls of saints
persecuted for their truth
he will hold her love sacred
lidded ‘neath his heart’s brow
secreted like a palmed rose
he will never forget

~ ~ ~

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Poetics: The charms of Samuel Greenberg

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The Sloan Digital Sky Survey (SDSS) have published a comprehensive analysis of this largest three-dimensional map of the Universe ever created, revealing that six billion years ago, the expansion of the Universe began to accelerate. Bigger Bang!I

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The Universe

lightless void
soundless vacuum

molten cores
mingled gasses
hurtling shards

black holes
plasma rain
liquid lightning

revolving orbs
in evolving orbit
with beings aboard

attractions — repulsions
magnetized masses
in precarious fragility

inconceivable
ever expanding
frozen dance of chaos
on the tentative edge
of balance

~ ~ ~

“Liquid Lighting” — A bit of poetic license, drawn from the fact that recent studies indicate that ice, hail, and semi-frozen water drops known as graupel are essential to the creation of lightning anywhere in the universe such conditions exist

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Quadrille #114 – Poetical Magnetism

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Nein Lives

Nein Lives

yes, I know you know the movie sucked
you can blame that on Bombalurina
but did you have to put all of us
on the blackball don’t hire list
I would like to at least hope
we have a few lives left
in our film careers
I mean damn
her fault
hers
*
*
DDD7F8DA-6690-44EA-BCD7-1422F571DB00

~ ~ ~

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Indescribable

Stand of Oregon old growth.
Oregon Lakeshore Trail #656, at Inlet Creek.

Indescribable

my footfalls
drum the root chambers
of the old growth

each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
deep in this ancient forest

enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I’ve ringed a portion
of the cerulean mountain lake
my crooked walking stick
smooth in my right hand

rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
dappled emerald in scattered sunlight
I crest a knoll
by the restless azure brook
and stop

mesmerized
as before

I have reached my wonderland

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

were it a manmade cathedral
or a grande ballroom
truly gorgeous
might describe it
but this is so much more

breathtaking
falls short

even magnificent
feels wanting

a cool lake breeze
enfolds me
filled with the heady scent
of the living earth

cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
fern
bark
loam
wildflower
ionized mountain air

intoxicated
I grow very still

listening

breathing

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

I’m transcendent

this is — paradise

Mt Hood seen from Oregon Lakeshore Trail #656 just before old growth stand.

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This is the natural gateway on Trail #656 opening on the old growth stand.
Both well over 200 feet tall, and hundreds of years old.
1/2 mile ahead you leave the path, wandering into the heart of the giants!

mighty sentinels
guardians of the old growth
may ever you stand

~ ~ ~

First 2 of my 3 words are imbedded, in order, in poem. 3rd word: swanky

To find me with the 3 words:
CLICK HERE

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Three little words

OpenLinkNight #276

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Wiped From History

Wiped From History

Why is Seth Wheeler not famous and revered? Why do we not celebrate his outstanding contribution to the world? Why is his accomplishment not taught in schools, as part of the fabric of our nation?

We all know the name of Thomas Edison. Though, in current time, we’ve learned Nicola Tesla is the man who actually fathered the AC electric current, which now powers the world. But, the names of these two men glow brightly through history. And Henry Ford, Bill Gates, and Steve Jobs — we know these men because they made our lives easier, more comfortable.

Poor Seth, uncelebrated. People have fought in the streets over his invention! Yet, he’s essentially unknown. Undoubtedly, we look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of time. Like he’s been wiped from history. Sad! After all, he invented rolled and perforated toilet paper!

~ ~ ~

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Prosery: Telescope of Time

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Daybreak

Daybreak

the moon sets in pre-dawn’s soft glow
as comes the fire of day’s first light
carried confidently by the lantern bearer
to chase ashened dreams and welcome morn

morn’s a feeling
a wonderful healing
the sunlight revealing
all darkness was stealing
from our sight
from our heart
in this night

daybreak is magic

~ ~ ~

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Dawn – Two Looks

dawn is a feeling
a wonderful healing
the sunlight revealing
all darkness was stealing
from our sight
from our heart
.rtk.

Got inspired by Louise Glück’s poems about Dawn.
Took the word dawn, did the Google thing — ended up here.

Dawn – Two Looks

Personal

when the fire of love
flickers and dies
a shadow falls
in empty eyes
words of love
become but lies

that open door
of a tender heart
has quietly closed
‘round the fragile part

what once so sweetly natural
no longer feels quite right
the drift and fall so unseen
as but the passing of night

until one morning no dawn breaks
no tenderness nor warmth awakes
a loneliness encircles slow
you seek the one that you’ve loved so
you search their face in the predawn glow
whose eyes these are
you no longer know

~ ~

Societal

I gaze
through gossamer curtain’s fall
at a dark waking dream
hallucination
of a polarized reality

dual worlds
close enough to touch
through which truth
stumbles blind
beyond reach

walking as a wraith
moving in these worlds
captive to the bonedeep lie
implicit in the toxic grin
of inflexible conformity

lethal tradition
revered in mindless trance

change

shackled cold
to the stone of fear

change

bound
with a grip
rough as rope
at the shadowed edge
of dark and light
ignorance and knowledge

change

so far to go
so much to learn
rise from this night
beckon the dawn
someone needs
release the light

~ ~ ~

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MTB – Lists that Google give us

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Homeward

Homeward

late afternoon descends upon the land
golden in the downing sun’s embrace
my stride — ever brisk and steady

early shadows fall softly ‘cross my face
vesper’s velvet blanket
drapes gently ‘round my shoulders

eager — I keep a lover’s pace
where this fall eve — homeward

~ ~ ~

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Quadrille #113: Blanket Us

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Lunar Spring

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Lunar Spring

Mad March finds me on the moon. I’ve brought me some flutter-bees, in hopes my humor may actually survive. Winter rains held on long this year on earth, but skies are clear up here — though cold as hell. This weightlessness improves my attitude, lifting my mood. Makes me feel like a feather. My prodigal smile breaks through a bit, watching the damned butterflies escape and flit.

We brought some paneled sun and bottled rain, gonna try to ignite these seeds here in my spacesuit pocket. Maybe we can get’em pushing their sprouts through this boxed fertile earth soil. Brought it all the way from Oregon’s Willamette River Basin. Oh look, the butterflies are cavorting among the moon rocks. Gotta get a picture of that, though they really don’t look very well!

We brought some recordings of chirping birds, and sealed fragrances of new blooms. We are working our butts off, and this lame luna wind ain’t gonna waft the fragrances. Well, we got the synthesized smells, hues, and sounds of Spring, but it ain’t makin’ my heart sing, or my spirit dance! Spring on the moon’s no romance, it sucks! Oh look, the fucking butterflies are at it again.

moon wind’s blowin’ badly
butterflies behavin’ madly
gravity’s flyin’em upside down
zero oxygen’s droppin’em to the ground
won’t be long before they’re expired
and me and the crew are totaly tired
spring on the moon sucks!

~ ~ ~

Image: Eddie Schrieffer

To read more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

Big Bull

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Big Bull

clear blue summer sky

deep azure crystalline lake

bull frog rises slow

ripples lap the bulbous ryes

crisp scent of water lilies

memories of you

ripples on this mirrored lake

rise and drift gently

into the golden sunlight

big bull croaks softly — dreams rise

~ ~ ~

Click below to read more poetry at earthweal:

https://earthweal.com/2020/10/02/earthweal-open-link-weekend-39