Rob Kistner – Page 77 – Image & Verse

Touch of Love

Touch of Love

a quarter century ago
in the shadow of the tall ships
nestled inter-coastal
on the outer banks of Beaufort
our passion burst to flame

we bound that flashpoint moment
in a promise of forever
and a band of abalone
I found there in that sunset
on the Carolina sands

as ever-precious
as the diamond ring
that now encircles in its stead
that pearled bit of shell
immortalized our pledge

even to this day
it rests next to your heart
where it falls true and warm
on links of purest gold
my constant touch of love

~ ~ ~

Click below to read more poetry at dVerse:

Open Link Night #233

Silent Song

Silent Song

watching the cosmos
marveling
tonight I go mind-surfing
beyond my limitations

to a place of mystery
that touches the edge of infinite

the place where humility is born

where the first thread
was tweaked to unfurl

were is spoken
the language of awe

and silent wonder
is the song that is sung

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 1/10/15

Kiting

Kiting

a whispered zephyr
tosses my hair
brushes soft my cheek

hope gently stirs

a promise of breeze
begins to freshen

it wafts
and builds

gathers strength

heartbeat quickens

anticipation
spirals anew

the building currents
draw taut the line

then
an urgent tug

the moment arrives

my kite fills
then billows

it stands and dances

sculpted tight
against the frame

caught full
by this mounting breeze
it lifts with grace

rises with purpose

with deft hand
and careful eye
I guide it
safely airborne

further
faster
it ascends

carried skyward
on friendly drafts

empowered
by winds of good fortune

this day my kite
has taken flight

bold aloft
in the clear bright sky

with a constant wind
my kite

fragile as a dream

soars strong
and steady

a sudden gust

my kite is tossed

but a nimble touch
keeps it skyward

should winds
like fortune
turn

and the sky grow still

my kite
like fate
will falter

weather
like life

makes no guarantee

but such is the thrill of kiting

~ ~ ~

_____________________

Thorns

a ruby droplet

the yellow rose bears sharp thorns

we will still share wine

~ ~ ~

Unspoken

Unspoken

so many times
I looked tenderly upon you
filled with love

you were my sun
my light

I looked with admiration
unceasing gratitude
for who you were in my life

for how you wrapped our children
in the cocoon of your heart

freeing them to fly
when ready were their wings

for your gentle way
that drew our friends close
holding fast
harbored in your kindness

but years numbered
one upon the next

I remained all too mute

until fate carried you
beyond the sound
of my foolish voice

would that I had a bottle
to carry my loving words
across the ocean of time

over the horizon of death

to tell you the 10,000 things
I said too seldom in your life

~ ~ ~

Collecting

Collecting

once I have
all I can get
I’ll still want more
and more

and yet

the stuff I have
I must ignore
to have the time
to find some more

to stash
with what it is I got
so there’ll be nothing
I have not

and when I have
all that there is
I’ll sit back
and say

gee wiz

I’m not certain
this is all
there is

though what I have
is gathering dust
and some perhaps
is gathering rust

I’ll search for more

because I must

~ ~ ~

inspired by George Carlin and Dr Seuss

Nocturne

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

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

~ ~ ~

Midnight Snowfall

winter-night

Midnight Snowfall

in moonlit forest
midnight’s snowfall shimmers
deep and still
through the boughs
of old growth
like a dance of star clusters

it blankets
our high-mountain meadow
in crystal down

this night
fell quiet and crisp

a great white owl
echoes
through frosted cedars

lover and beloved

we entwine
in passion’s heat
‘neath winter’s window

until
with dreams
and one another
we sleep

a gentle slumber
adrift in wonder
unmoored
of time and place

we breathe deep
this winter nocturne
wrapped in reverie’s
ebb and flow

my heart is carried
to a moment
in a winter
long ago

you
by firelight
in my arms
an embrace
your face aglow

a mid-winter midnight
‘neath frosted moonlight
crystaline stars
a’dance above

our hearts
in pure surrender
that magic night
we first made love

~ ~ ~

it’s not so much we resent the hungry
no more than do we despise the poor
rather we avoid and dismiss them
with the dull cough of apathy
we find them disturbing and dangerous
they disquiet our comfort
they disrupt our summer stroll downtown

we do not flow with the milk of kindness
our part is more the dark brandy of denial
afterall what is it we can really do
we do however praise our stars
for their sensitivity toward the downtrodden
it makes the less fortunate more glamorous
and we like the hollywood sparkle it imparts to tragedy

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 6/26/18

Corycian Promise

Corycian Promise

Wee hours,
with the sane asleep,
this writer’s steeped
in conflicted inspiration.

My thoughts are vague,
I’m filled with doubt,
words tossed about
the unyielding empty page.

I start, then stop,
I write, then not,
unclear, I’m caught
in merciless hesitation.

Fickle muse, please —
a promise of spark
to light this dark
that grips me like a cage.

~ ~ ~

Watching

Watching

as the alarm called him to a new day
I watched him resist
slowly to surrender
to the weary morning
and shudder to life
as he stepped from the shower

a daze turning to quiet purpose
a look straight into the cacophony
of the morning squeeze
he was finding the place where he fit

then stepping out
beyond and forever
into that direction
that will lead
down the path of tomorrow

to that distant place
round that unseen bend
and into the lives of perfect strangers
that he will come to love
or avoid
as logic dictates

but either way
to need

that distant horizon
is full of discovery
and wonder
and heartbreak
and sorrow
and the vibrations of being alive

I pray
not being alone

I will stand here
and watch you go
and remember how much I didn’t know
when I was you

oh, but to be that perfectly naive
that beautifully innocent

just one more time
to anticipate with uplifting uncertainty
what is ahead
just over that rise
and to burn with desire to find out

just once more
to be that eager
and willing to believe
that anything
everything is ahead
and it all to be had

and to go
shuddering in the joy of living
eyes wide open
longing to see
aflame to know

so go you
go

I will watch
until you slip out of sight
into that life of yours
that I do not know

so go
go and catch fire

burn brightly
burn brightly!

~ ~ ~

rob kistner 4/13/18

_________________________

** This was inspired by my son, who is at the peak of his manhood, his dreams just beginning to come true, filled with unstoppable confidence, and love for his family.

Love’s Dance

Love’s Dance

he feels the weight of her thigh
pressing against his

the flesh of her hip
urgent against his groin

the warmth
as he responds involuntarily

a heat spreads through him
a quickening of pulse

he swells and swoons
growing rigid and eager

a deep need overtakes him

he reaches ’round her
firmly encircling her waist
with his strong arm
bending her forward
with the power of his body

his other hand frees himself
he enters her fully
consumed by her passion

begins a dance of dizzying desire

his urges hot and husky
on her ear and cheek
they churn in slow pleasure

building in lustful pace and tension
they dance and dance
spinning into a carnal fury

a great release
sweeps over them

they melt together
in fevered bliss
matching breath for slowing breath

his lips
soft on the nape of her neck
they drift to earth
entwined in the joy
the afterglow
of love’s lingered embrace

~ ~ ~

Schucked

Shucked

here hang
the soiled
and tattered husks

poorly washed

of those
who would be
real persons

save their abandonment
in this place and time

out of sync

of awkward fit
paralyzing naïveté
bad teeth
and hard truths

~ ~ ~

Strangers

Strangers

we sit with dinner
and complacency

a table between
a chasm apart

aware
but not acknowledged

we finish our meal
clear the dishes
in cultivated silence

task done
we part quietly
me to my keyboard
you to read

strangers
yet another night

in our life of learned indifference

~ ~ ~

Dawn Breaks

Dawn Breaks

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

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

what once so sweet and effortless
can never again feel right
and the fall begins so near unseen
as though but the passing of night

until one morning no dawn breaks
no tenderness nor warmth awakes
and a loneliness encircles slow
you seek the one that you’ve loved so

she’s here arms reach
she shares your bed
you roll and turn
then lift your head
you search her face
in the predawn glow
whose eyes these are
you no longer know

you feel no tears
you feel no fight
a knowing rises from this night
sadly it will never again be right

it’s in this painful clarity
you realize
you know
that though you stayed quite sound asleep
you heart left long ago

~ ~ ~

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Author: Rob Kistner

Touch of Love

Silent Song

Kiting

Thorns

Unspoken

Collecting

Nocturne

Midnight Snowfall

That Hollywood Sparkle

Corycian Promise

Watching

Love’s Dance

Schucked

Strangers

Dawn Breaks