Rob Kistner – Page 57 – Image & Verse

Paradise Ravaged

Mourning the unprecedented wildfires currently destroying Oregon & California.

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Paradise Ravaged

There’s peace, night-wandering these slumbering mountains, spellbound by their vast forests. In their dreams they sleep with the moon. I search their peaceful rivers. My spirit carries buoyant over their boulders and falls, my soul listening to ancient secrets whispered by their waters, echoed hauntingly in the treetops by great white owls.

These pristine mountains are breathtaking, unspoiled natural beauty. The fragrance of conifers intoxicate the night breezes, as moonlight drifts down dreamlike to blanket the forest’s canopy, to dance diamond-like on the chill mountain lakes. This special place is sacred, so close to my heart.

But this night, the breezes have become unbreathable, blistering winds, choked with soot and poisonous smoke. The rivers black, strangled with char and smoldering debris. Wild fires continue to rage and ravage. I weep — but will there ever be tears enough to again cleanse pure my defiled paradise.

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__________

fire dragons consume
poisonous vapors strangle
eden is dying

__________

span style=”color: #808080; font-family: helvetica; font-size: small;”>NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, many “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.

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Prosery Monday: Moonbeams and Moon Dreams

The Fox & The Feather

The Fox & The Feather

oh to glide
in buoyed flight
soar skyward
in sweeping circles
lift high on mighty thermals
never again earthbound
not a prisoner of gravity

this day would be soaring
and swooping
and diving
giving thanks for feathers
and hollow bones

but

I have no hollow bones
I’m just a little fox
with only this one feather

I found it
over there

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NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, many “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.

To read more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

The Chill

The Chill

Three reasonable edits of a single concept:

VERSION 1

moonlight
keeps dark at bay
pressing in

night wind stirs
mocking breath
of life now lost
to lightless realm
beyond this chill
encircling me

worn stone step
where rail eluded
grasping hand
as ankle bent
held oranges spilled

moon caresses
tender neck
once softly kissed
from which no voice came
to futile cry

those lips
will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love

blackness presses in

VERSION 2

moonlight
keeps dark at bay
pressing in

night wind mocking
life now lost
beyond this chill

no emotion
save grief

a worn stone step
a grasp-less hand
an ankle bent
held oranges spilled
tender neck
once softly kissed
now broken

a futile cry

those lips
will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love

darkness presses in

VERSION 3

moonlight
keeps dark at bay
pressing in

oranges spill
on worn stone steps
rail eludes
grasping hand

night wind stirs
scattering
the futile cry

mocking
the breathless life
lost to the lightless realm
beyond this encircling chill

these lips
will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love

~ ~ ~

NOTE to “Blogger” site owners: I enjoy reading your work, but frustratingly, some “Blogger” sites DO NOT let me post comments? 🙂 So sorry if you don’t see personal comments from me on your “Blogger” site. But I will keep reading your work — and welcoming and responding to your comments here on Image & Verse.

Click to read more dVerse poems:

MTB, Write like a dog, edit like a cat…

Who Am I

Who Am I

I am my memories
that huddle ’round me
soft and gentle
some dim
some vivid
through all my days
and all my nights

though you are gone
left much too soon
just in your springtime
you are here
quiet in my memories

I like
that you are still with me
in my heart
this recall is such sweet ache

other memories
from quite near
and far into the past
drift forward
mingled rich
through the years

their embrace
is soothing
warm as the sun

memories of others
I’ve been blessed to love
a tender tear
for every one

the places
this 6’ frame has been
the wonders
these hazel eyes have seen

the joys
that painted me
so brightly

the sorrows
that taught me
the depth of life

in these memories
there is a sweetness
it holds my heart
tempered
by just a touch
of soft regret
that at times
bowed this silvered head

my heart is full
my spirit calm
a peaceful surrender
to fate’s embrace

that precious
unfurled strand
from there to here
from then to now

would that these memories
never end

but soon
the flames of recall
will falter
as the lingering embers die

it’s then I’m prayer

when I am called
among the memories
would that I be
carried away
in stillness
delivered off
in sleep
forever wrapped
in all it is
I am

I am my memories

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Come and take a selfie!

Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping

sun sits low on the horizon
dusk slowly advances
night’s chill is settling
all the dreams have gone to bed

I sit quietly
close by this fire
soothed by its crackling
eavesdropping on my wife
reading our child
bedtime stories

soul’s settled
heart’s full

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Quadrille #111 – What’s That Rustling in the Eaves?

Up a Tree

Up a Tree

the king of beasts has gone up a tree
says it’s a better vantage point to see
the evil that’s happening everywhere
yet much of the human herd don’t care
that lies and disease are running wild
it seems that they have been beguiled
prudent folk seem to have been struck blind
the other fools have simply lost their mind
the king says he is not coming down
‘til Trump and Covid are chased from town

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To read more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

Lauria at the Speed of Light

remembering a great performer, good friend, former bandmate, lost to Covid-19

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Lauria at the Speed of Light

did I ever tell you about Lauria
living at the speed of light
blazing through the midday sky
rocketing through the night

she was a natural wonder
a miracle to behold
soared through time like a lightning flash
unwilling to ever grow old

streaking through the universe
a meteor of flesh and bone
racing high above on wings of dreams
like a shooting star she shone

mystery sister of Aoede & Terpsichore
she’s a goddess of dance and song
she’d cast her beguiling lyrical spell
and hold captive her mesmerized throng

the news came late last weekend
Lauria was nowhere in sight
last seen circling a midnight star
moving at the speed of light

people who knew Lauria well
were sure it was what they’d feared
she had finally outdistanced time
and mystically disappeared

never ever to be seen again
no way — no how — nowhere
she’d lived life at such velocity
she blazed out like a beautiful flare

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oh, would her end have been such magic
whirled away in an enchanted gust
sadly she was felled by a virulent evil
smaller than a speck of stardust

R.I.P.

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OpenLinkNight #273

Hedone’s Lovers

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines erotic as: “of, relating to, exciting, or expressing sexual attraction or desire”

ALERT: Erotic poetry for adults only…

Hedone’s Lovers

radiant vision silken skinned
translucent alabaster blaze
you’re torrid as a teen’s temptation

I’m a kindle’d lover’s pyre
tinder poised
with slightest spark
near to burn

wrapped steaming
in eager hungry arms
achingly we yearn

your graceful face
wanton aglow
comely raised and tilted back
my fingers tangled in your hair

swept away in lustful swoon
you’re Hedone’s daughter
lush with nectar
afire in ardor’s golden flame
that folds upon you soft as satin

down glistening back
that tempting tapers
to the tender
warm and sultry

a wonderland for fingertips
mine touch
and tease
and tantalize

we explore
full measure
our quivering bodIes

mine chiseled firm
hammered hard
smooth as stone
with Himeros’s brand

your divinely-pleasing
sculpted vessel
brought forth
by Aphrodite’s hand

flesh-fruit swells full and ripe
a silhouette to hypnotize
enticing in the candle’s flicker
we fondle freely with wanting eyes

I twist and tweak
your blossomed berries
that burst
engorged with passion’s heat
my teeth to nip and tug
draw to my lips
to taste

your tender touch
soft loving stroke
drawn slow ‘n steady
ignites my need
now full ready
to firm express

my willful hands
of pleasured probing
wrap slender waist
then slowly slide
‘cross pleading hips
of sensuous rise
to fall in frail folds of eros
molded from the charms of Venus

’round dual swells of burning myth
that writhe
atop two lathen’d stems
long and lithe
as liquid love
turned by pleasure’s gloried angels
tempered in a sacred fire

stretched taut
arched high
in carnal roil
we entwine
god and goddess buff

beyond delirium
I enter rough
we thrust and thrust
in randy lust
’til passion’s seed
has turned to dust

and our wanton
carnal
flames
are snuffed

love’s raging madness
at last rebuffed

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Poetics: Exploring Erotica as a Literary Genre (what makes a poem erotic?)

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Haibun Monday 8/31/20: Take a Hike!

Hiking Paradise

…a hike in the Oregon mountains…

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Hiking Paradise

Filtered by the towering woodland canopy overhead, sunlight drifts down dreamlike to settle radiant, igniting the breathtaking forest cathedral before me. Suddenly, a young doe bounds onto the trail ahead, stands proudly, pausing in the warmth of the rays. She considers me briefly, then disappears as quick as a stolen glance, quiet as passing time.

I dart my eyes here, then there, in a vain attempt to follow. Its then I catch a glimpse of silver-blue, reflecting resplendently, where massive old-growth trunks part — Lost Lake! This is the prize I sought on my hike today into this Cascade wilderness paradise.

I step through the opening, to climb a huge boulder. A deep expanse of chill mountain lake unfurls before me, sparkling cerulean and sterling, in the crisp quickening breeze. I sit, pull my legs under me, and lean forward — enthralled. Elbows on knees, I marvel, mesmerized by the energy and splendor of this natural wonder.

crystal on blue lake
dances in gilding sunlight
crisp breeze stirs old growth

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Click below for more hiking at dVerse:

Haibun Monday 8/31/20: Take a Hike!

Helianthus Gold

Helianthus Gold

across the meadow
last night’s dew clings
fondly to the old-growth

wrapped in crystalline embrace
it adorns the stately cedars
as if diamonds
that sparkle
in the morning sun

a splendor befitting
their regal beauty

this Spring day
begins bright and crisp

bird songs lilt
carried on a light breeze

in the meadow
Helianthus raise their golden heads
to follow the sun’s journey west

I see you afar
approaching on the path
backlit by sunrise
your hair golden in dawn’s glow

lover beholding beloved

I sit
warmed in daybreak’s window
with tea and fascination

I watch you
as you stop to rest

in this moment
my love spills over
floods ’round me
until I am consumed

your lips sculpt a smile
I’m swept away
on passion’s tide
this golden sunflower morning

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To read more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

Musicality

Musicality

we were jazzing along the lake
the moon bee-bopping this magic night
saxing its light upon us
it pianoed into my very soul
fluting up thoughts of tympanied love
trumpeting my chorded lust
drumming my erotic fantasies
wowing me in musicality

swellingly, the moment classicalated
my mind piccoloed in joy
as I oboed eagerly into you ear
celloing my deep-felt feelings
trebling you to my clef
I violined your quivered lips
and symphonyed my arms around you
to crescendo you in strains of passion

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Meet the bar, verbing

The Balance

The Balance

when the wheat
is sorted to chaff
and the grain
is drafted for bread

then life
again shows its nature
its necessary contrast
of yin and yang

as the grain cannot exist
without the chaff
neither can good
manifest without the bad
neither can light
manifest without the dark

this is the weight
this is the depth
this is the mystery
this is the meaning

this is the balance

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Poetics: Waiting on Wheat

The Vast

The Vast

standing at the edge
feeling far below
the great tides

the ebb and flow
the rise and fall
the vast undulation

sparkled golden
glinting in sunlight
like the windblown sway
of tasseled wheat
burnished aureate
rolling ripe for harvest

this is the come and go
of centuries
wave by wave
day by day

might incarnate
the power of indifference
the surge of perfect apathy

and I
insignificant
as a grain of wheat
in an unfurling field
stretching to the horizon

insignificant
as the grain of beach sand
bounced and tumbled
below me here
dragged helpless
in the relentless undertow

a froth-topped crest
translucent aqua
rises up in beckon

a silk of azure
slides smoothly
down its sloping back
as it dances
on the cerulean deep

how easily
I could slip in
slide seamlessly
into that fathomed realm

down down ever down
into the bottom black
into the waiting silence
without so much
a noticed sound

absorbed
into the churn and roar
without so much
a ripple
to disturb the steady surf

a subtle crease
irrelevant
erased
even as it came

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Poetics: Waiting on Wheat

Time Traveling

Time Traveling

careful hands
peel back cracked
and yellowed glassine
from faded aging pages

too often ignored
this dusty photo album

tonight
I’m liberating memories
life moments
immortalized

faces and places
call from another time

life’s had its bumps
and its beauty

bittersweetly
I time travel

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Quadrille #110: Shall we bum around a bit?

Vigilant

Vigilant

I dwell still
in the sky clouds
above the first place
above Anahuac
above the valley of origin
I am Xoloti

Chimalma is another
we dwell
Chimalma and I
and too Xiuhpilli
Quetzalcoatl also
we watch
ever vigilant
quiet and patient

we watch by night
watching with Meztli
we watch by day
watching with Tonatiuh
we watch our people

the sons and daughters
of the Toltec
of the Aztec
of the others
who were there
we watch now
how they are treated

we are quiet
and we are patient
but we are not happy

if our patience breaks
so then too will our silence
and we will send down
the spirits of Cuauhmeh
our eagle warriors
to stir the hearts
and ignite the souls
of our peoples

then there will be
a roar of truth
then there will be
an uprising of justice
then will we at last
settle this

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To read more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE