rob kistner © 2019
rob kistner © 2019
~
bird songs carry on freshening breeze
flowers awaken to the kiss of bees
my soul to fullest measure filled
splendor brings me to my knees
rob kistner © 2019
broken in your cruel hands
it was abused — then cast away
like some cheapskate’s knickknack
or worthless bauble with which to play
it was not your shiny ornament
to decorate your ego
nor a piece of bric-a-brac
to collect like some odd curio
not a trifle toy or novelty
this heart was so much more to me
than some lowly dime-store tchotchke
to be abandoned thoughtlessly
no, it was not some silly whatnot
to dingle-dangle in your hands
I didn’t offer you some gewgaw
because I’m not your doodah man
I really can’t believe you’d think it
was just some silly trinket
I’ve now no need for this ruined heart
so I plucked it from my chest
to find a warm and vital heart
this is now a lover’s quest
I seek a fresh and vibrant heart
one of a perfect size
and a kind and gentle lover
who will hold it as a prize
No, I can’t believe you’d think it
was just some silly trinket
~
a heat spreads through them
a quickening of pulse
as they ignite
passion overtaking them
he reaches ’round her
firmly encircling her waist
with his strong arm
he pulls her to him
with the power of his body
she acquiesces fully
folding upon him
as they begin a dance
of dizzying desire
his pleasure
red hot and husky
on her ear and cheek
her head tilts back
her blue eyes close
as slowly they turn
together they churn
building in lustful pace
they dance and dance
spinning and spinning
whirling in a carnal fire
a tempest of sensation
they melt together
in fevered bliss
matching breath for breath
his lips
soft on the nape of her neck
willingly offered
as they’re overcome
smoldering in love’s embrace
rob kistner © 2019
Leaning comfortably into the turns, breeze streaming through our long hair, we wind our way into the mountains, into the evening, alive with the two-wheeled freedom of the open road, not counting days, not keeping track. We’re just feet up and rolling – free!
We glide between alternating shadow and light, as the sun reveals itself, from time to time, warming us from between the peaks, as it begins to settle behind the western slope of the Rockies.
Four friends who’ve shed the structured mantle of life, to venture into the random, the unknown — to embrace the magnificent perfection of living in, and for, the moment.
Up out of Boulder, down into Dream Canyon we scramble, each rider alternately surging to the front of the pack — enjoying the thrill of the throttle! Flying, without leaving the ground.
Down we sail, twisting along the asphalt as it snakes its way. Upcoming curves often hidden from view, disappearing behind the rise of a slope. Mountain peaks soar, enfolded in clouds, that roll snd tumble through the brilliant blue sky.
We charge onward, transfixed by the wonders surrounding us, filled with an exhilarating touch of danger, to season this awesome excitement of discovery!
It’s five decades since those days of freedom. My days are not so carefree now. I’m rooted in responsibility, balancing the blessings and the burdens of life — bent by the yoke of worry, made heavy by the weight of loss.
I now lean into life, feet firmly planted, braced against the changing winds of time and fate. Yet, occasionally, I still feel that longing for freedom stir, feel that 4-cycle vibration beneath me, feel that breeze on my face, once more tossing my youthful mane.
A smile nudges its way onto my face, coaxed by those memories of freedom — of potent, visceral friendship. Someday, before it is too late, I would love one last time, to lift my feet, roll that throttle, and race toward that far horizon.
the freedom of feathered wing
over hollow bone
riding the thermals
climbing ever upward
gliding
circling
warmed by the sun
adrift in the heavens
free as the breeze
that envelopes me
suddenly…
I dive earthward
wings tucked
rocketing down
toward the crystal blue
of a crisp mountain lake
my vision
piercing the clear surface
penetrating to the bottom
then I sail out
racing purposefully
a talon’s reach
‘cross the wind-blown chopwater
and connect
a slight tilt in my wings
carries me skyward once more
my prey in my powerful grasp
lifting toward the treetop
of a massive conifer
towering at water’s edge
reaching the peak
my wings at full extension
I flap them gracefully backward
pulling against momentum
the prize viced in my beak
I glide down
gently reaching
to land soft as a fallen leaf
in the uppermost branches
the victorious hunter
home again
hands of time now spin round so much faster
life is carvin’ his journey in his face
the backbeat pounds steady its insistence
he wonders how long can he keep this pace
a wiser man he sits here etched in spotlight
he riffs his sadness but never he complains
alone he plays his harp in contemplation
was all he’s lost really worth his hard-won gains
but sweet memories like candles softly flicker
friends and lovers cherished — come and gone
all the pain and joy forged in his blues harp
so though the years are dimmin’ — he plays on
rob kistner © 2019
maybe we need look
at all that plastic
as just so much
nautical bric-a-brac
what climate change
these rising seas
are a realty upswing
more ocean-front opportunities
it’s certainly not like the world
will just collapse
and abruptly come
to an instantaneous end
what’s all this foolish fuss
about momentary issues
but is it all folderol
are the issues momentary
are the issues solvable
we need to be more lucid
in our creative thinking
we need to tackle this
with some genuine derring-do
too many just pontificate
nag annoyingly about their opinion
yes — we need to think more green
but — we need to think more clearly
everyone need not be so damned smug
all the extreme doom-sayers
also the foolhardy naysayers
each with their slanted
and sadly sometimes manipulated
statistical analysis
or their too-often staged photo-ops
conceived to prove their point
all these conflicting facts
and images
pointing out the slipshod conduct
by the other
it’s like special interest hokey pokey
each side putting their whole self in
to try to put the other’s whole self out
while each side fist pumps furiously
to their righteous
self-serving viewpoints
not suggesting every group
slink off demurely
or lollipop their issues
to downplay urgency
and yet — we must all avoid
being snookered
rendering our important decision making
dangerously misguided
and we must avoid
being spoon-fed bitter blancmange
we must all use
a smidgen of thought
of informed common sense
avoid the operatic trumpeting
of self-serving zealots
the world needs knowledgeable
responsible individuals
making truly informed
genuinely useful decisions
about our precious environment
each of us must
research
read
and realize the problems
think
then react
effectively
respecting
and rescuing
this rare miracle
that is our earth
hoping it would matter to her
hoping that an empty place
would open in her heart
that only he could fill
hoping his leaving
left such a void
hoping deeply
ever hoping
walking
away
sad
rob kistner © 2019
“Darkness came, full of moths and beetles. I was oppressed by the velvety emptiness…” – Laurie Lee
the foreboding ice moon
stabs a sliver of gloom
through the heart of the trees
where I tremble on my knees
trapped in unanchored dreams
my forsaken soul screams
lost in a tangle of fears
I am adrift on my tears
smothered by this emptiness
rigored by my loneliness
this void smuggles my breath
I pray for sleep — deep as death
rob kistner © 2019
Just beyond the garden wall, across the meadow, last night’s dew clings fondly to our willow’s cascade, wrapping it in a crystalline embrace. It shimmers, as if bejeweled with diamonds, that sparkle in the morning sun. A splendor befitting its sensual beauty.
This day has begun bright and crisp. Bird songs lilt gently, carried on the soft breeze. I see you afar, approaching on the garden path, backlit by sunrise. Your hair beams golden in dawn’s glow. I am a smitten lover beholding my beloved!
I watch you as you stop by the willow, head tilted upward, eyes closed, enjoying nature’s serenade. In this moment my love spills over, floods ’round me, until I am afire. When you fix your eyes upon me, your lips sculpt a smile. I rush to you, take you in my arms, swept up on passion’s wings, on this golden morning.
rob kistner © 2019
a sound of longing
of a broken heart
mournful for the one
lost to these silent fathoms
so very far away
on that long-ago day
now only they
know where her lover lies
so everyday she comes
and paints this magic portal
to this far off sea
to seek its mystery
and every night
as darkness falls
the enchantment breaks
and her flood of tears
washes it away
and yet again
her lonely heart
shatters in the silence
but she will return
in the light of every day
in spite of her sorrowed pain
to paint this sea again
and with plaintive call
beseech this cruel sea
to reveal its precious mystery
rob kistner © 2019
body oiled and tan
sunning by the swimming pool
sun glasses look cool
stealing hearts this sizz’ling day
breaking hearts this simm’ring night
clothes drape grey boulders
sun beats down on brisk blue lake
summer skinny dip
the joy of the naked plunge
hot fun in the summer time
mugs of cold gold beer
baby backs on the bar-b
backyard summer feast
red potatoes with grilled corn
it all smells so delicious
soft sand warms bare toes
love as fresh as ocean breeze
summer at seaside
kisses hot as sizz’ling sun
send us over the rainbow
~
rob kistner © 2019
like a tempest was your passion
I was swept up in its force
but lightning has stopped crashin’
this storm has run its course
my thoughts grow cloudy grey
my eyes are now steady rain
my heart shivers cold today
your bad weather has brought pain
the warm winds may return
as should the clear blue skies
but my frozen heart will yearn
for your wild and stormy eyes