•
his rant can be heard above the bustle of the homeward privileged
coarse ramblings from the rancid shadows
as fetid hands lift flame to spoon
and bring to boil the milk of his deliverance
he glides cold steel into the froth of sweet promise
still warm with transformation
to impale his demon with the blessed dagger
as silver-white dreams carry him away
gone – long before the battered wound will coagulate
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
•
I bring my hand
gently to your mouth
quiet your voice
for I am certain
if you loose your words
into this twisted world
they’ll be distorted
if you raise your song
over this deafened land
it will be lost
should your truth escape
into this barren place
it will die
of loneliness
if you free your love
in this frigid time
there will be no place
it can find warmth
save here
within my hand
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
This is a seond draft of a piece I wrote quickly in response to a prompt on Sunday Sribblings which proposed we create a dinner party for anyone we wish — living or dead.
I intend to continue to edit this in place here to tighten it up. It’s fun, enjoy it!
our first guest is Salvador Dali
his work’s ‘out there’ but it’s not folly
he sees life in abstract and paints with great flair
he’s taken his work where few artists would dare
may I present Mr. John Lennon
you might know the band that he plays in
clever and candid what he thinks he will say
I think he might make a difference one day
please greet Mr. Kurt Vonnegut
he cuts to the truth quite literate
his writing is brilliant, his mind so alive
hope you get the chance to read Slaughterhouse Five
this gifted woman’s Joni Mitchell
much talent and wit – she’s insightful
a beautiful mind with a magical soul
the white queen of wisdom and sweet rock’n’roll
the man to my left’s known as Ghandi
his courage is truly beyond me
he rejects violence — it’s peace he does seek
confronts anger with patience — but he’s not weak
this lady’s Amelia Earhart
she’s bold and brave – yes, she stands apart
she’s committed to a great undertaking
solo trans-global’s the flight she’s soon making
our last guest is seated beside her
a beat poet – meet Gary Snyder
honest and spiritual, incredibly smart
his poems about nature stir the mind and heart
this dinner party’s purposely small
and I hope that it satiates all
so relax and enjoy and after we’ve dined
there’ll be one final course, a feast for the mind
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
Deep Summer
•
nostrils singed by scalded air
too hot and thick to breathe
haltingly
I fill my lunges
to bake them in sustaining breath
this inferno to endure
skin weeps
salted droplets trace my spine
baste my neck
gather in the hollow
of my labored chest
hesitant in its struggle
bitter beads bloom and seep
from beneath the smother
of matted soak —
ooze down fevered slope
into my eyes
…and sting
molten sphere in steaming sky
glares down
incessant
energy expires
desires evaporate
thoughts grow sticky
coated in midday
tasks at hand
plans to make
will wait
life roils slowly
simmering deep in summer
even dreams are scorched
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
a place within
closed away from scrutiny
from the world
angry at the wind
at the rain
at daylight
angry at your smile
at the sound of your voice
angry at it all
this is where I live
and how
you come
like a void
false journey-mate
embossed with promises
a coat of synthetic
edges peeled back
its leatherlessness
revealed
shivering
I wrap it round me
seeking warmth
but it is not supple
ill-fitted
it does not hold my form
you do not remember
the bend of my arm
nor the silk
that slid
slippery underfoot
on the marble aisle
as we stalked love
and the vain promise
it would be constant
as the wind
as the rain
as daylight
I lean upon my folded fist
cool against my temple
elbow solid
on my cluttered desk
eyes drooped
and closed
aflame with spoiled sleep
face slacked
head cocked
tilted to the right
heavy with confusion
skull upon the finger bones
in weighted indecision
procrastination presses down
the whooshing hum
of cooling bytes
relentless in my ears
thoughts like digits
on a dollar slot
spin unsettled in my mind
they neither click
nor lock in place
they tumble
in a jumble
they roll and blur
just out of focus
lost in mental fog
sunken in my office chair
I remain
immobile
paralyzed by perplexity
imprisoned
by the chaos
awhirl in my mind
the freedom of decision
impossible to manage
nothing will be done
this day
no first step can be taken
do not look upon me
in this untended state
grown over
with regret
rampant with cynicism
with unbridled bitterness
in this winter season
of dormant bloom
waning hope
my color has all faded
gone to random hues of grey
the faintest blush of tint
I am ensnared in the throws of writer’s block like I’ve never experienced. I’m impatient, deeply frustrated, and hopelessly distracted by life’s struggles — including a most unwelcome bout of severe neck & back pain. I stare grimacing into the eyes of my mortality.
I got the gris gris gumbo ya ya’s
After an intense period of writing during April, National Poetry Month 2009, I’ve taken a hiatus – which included the celebration of my 20th year of marriage to my wonderful wife, Kathleen. This period was also touched by deep sadness. I will return sometime in June to begin posting some of my new writing. Thank you for visiting today, and please return. I hope you are able to find something for yourself here at Image & Verse.
NaPoMo poem #29
This is the twenty ninth and the penultimate of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This poem is a tongue-in-cheek, but well intentioned look at life’s many gifts, inspired by prompt #29 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
So Many Gifts
•
we were granted
many gifts
when we arrived
here in this life
perhaps the most precious
is the gift of family
to endure
the gift of family
and any other calamity
we were bestowed
the gift of courage
the gift of patience
is a part of this
now when we require
more reinforcement
we have the useful
gift of friends
should all these gifts
prove just too much
there is the gift
of nature’s beauty
if we overdose
on all things tranquil
the fallback gift
is our creative spark
to prevent this gift
from being wasted
we have literature
music and art
and to preserve
dark karmic balance
we’ve been blessed
with the critique clique
finally we come
to this the greatest
of all the gifts
that we possess
and that gift being
the gift of love
though we enjoy
all of these gifts
life still can be
quite tough at times
but don’t despair
no
don’t lose hope
some secret gifts
have we been granted
to give us strength
and keep us going
the first of these
our sense of wonder
and hand in hand
our sense of awe
and should all else falter
there is the failsafe
the secret weapon
our sense of humor
but please take heed
keep careful watch
if you lose this latter
my friend
you’re screwed
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem-set #28
This is the twenty eighth day of poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This set of seven haiku were inspired by the read write poem NaPoWriMo prompt #28, “Seeing Red”.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Seven Red
•
inquiries of heart
from summer red lover’s lips
float like butterflies
•
green leaves on blue pond
float in golden summer sun
red bird softly sings
•
golden sun burns bright
scorching the red rock canyon
Sedona summer
•
eyes red from crying
words cannot be taken back
she will leave today
•
a ruby droplet
the yellow rose bears sharp thorns
we will share red wine
•
path forked this spring morne
white-tails chose tall trees instead
redwoods are safety
•
spring snow-pack’s melting
fresh mountain stream tumbles clear
under red maples
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #27
This is the twenty seventh of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This poem is an edited rewrite of a older poem of mine and was inspired by a moving personal experience, offered here in response to the NaPoWriMo Wordle prompt #27 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Unexpected
•
unquestionable joy
in a place most unexpected
the crystalline eyes of an innocent
cruel society deems disabled
bent and stooped
impossibly twisted
confined to constant care
and his rolling metal chair
a hardscrabble life
that would drive a lesser soul
to lunacy
but his gentle eyes reflect a wonder
my jaded heart has long since lost
by arrogance extinguished
his timeless spirit knows only trust
it pours forth from his being
positioned close and cozy
to the modest stage
he is enraptured by the music
engulfed within the rhythm
enthralled by this magic
he is beaming
like an angel
the band plays fast
the band plays slow
the band plays loud
the band plays low
he rocks forward
he rolls backward
waves in jubilation
and launches heart and soul
into a wicked shoulder wiggle
as he vibrates unabashed
with pure delight
the veins of his neck
stand out full and proud
as he tosses back his head
uninhibited in laughter
tears of joy
leaking down his cheeks
his person full alive
his essence full aware
his nascent bliss aglow
he is wholly in the now
he is filled with every note
wrapped up in the cadence
sparked by the drumbeat
thrilled by every nuance
he experiences an ecstasy
at which I can only marvel
its clarity and power I can never know
it’s at this moment
that I realize
how much I do not understand
as I behold this able man
faint envy stirs
watching his unbridled joy
so complete
and unexpected
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #26
This is the twenty sixth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This is my second metaphysical poem in two days, and was inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt # 26 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Becoming
•
as is the spark of birth
the burst of a seed
the first ray of dawn
the tug of love wakening
the moment of humility
the pen to blank page
so is the essence of becoming
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #25
This is the twenty fifth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This was inspired by a prompt at read write poem to write a “how to” about something difficult to do.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Being Now
•
step gently through the dream-gate
take hold the strand continuum
ride the light that carries you
to the is, was, the will be
transcendence moment
when the all is one
in the perfection
of pure being
here now
alive
∞
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #24
This is the twenty fourth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This is about a poet struggling with inspiration, pressing to break through writer’s block.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
My Words
•
I released my words into the cold
they froze and cracked and splintered
which made them sharp and edged
and piercing
too difficult to handle
I thrust my words into the fire
they scorched and warped and blistered
which made them hot and rough
and coarse
too difficult to touch
I abandoned my words in the storm
they soaked and swelled and sagged
which made them bloat and droop
with heft
too difficult to hold
then I left my words quite well alone
in no adverse conditions
and light they rose up from my heart
and soft they rolled from off my tongue
and true they drifted through the air
where suspended souls could find them there
to take them in
and keep them safe
and treat them in a manner fair
to befriend them
in an honest way
until it was their time to share
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #24-A
This is poem twenty-four-A of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This, like poem #24, is also about a poet struggling with inspiration, trying to block out the night noises and cacophony that surrounds him on a hot sticky night.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Dissonance
•
coarse whisper from above
promises relief
in vain
blades disturb page edges
at rest before me
in irregular rustle they taunt
impatient
untouched
no burden of remorse
no weight of mystery
do they bear
no sting of anger
no wink of mirth
with which to be dispatched
no coin of phrase to spend
dissonance
spills through the open window
the buzz, chirr, and leggy rasp
muffled keens
distant yelps
the edgy din of crawling
prowling night
intrudes in damp insistence
to fill my head
and leave not one small space
for wit or insight
all in vain
there is no relief
nothing clever
or profound
in the air this night
hot, sticky, thick
uninspired
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #23
This is the twenty third of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This is a bit of whimsy inspired by the read write poem NaMoWriMo prompt #23, “a different hat”.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Fashion Faux Pas
(‘hoot’ couture)
•
I see you smirking at my hat
it’s aluminum foil – imagine that
it helps with my cell phone reception
and fascinates my cat
keeps UV rays off my bald cranium
collects morning dew for my geraniums
makes me invisible to radar
and impervious to uranium
when wearing it I’m seen from space
the reflection helps conceal my face
when raining it will never rust
it’s aerodynamic if I run a race
it made my paper’s style page
and it will soon be all the rage
the good news — one size fits all
and it’s great to line your birdcage
so don’t make fun of my chapeau
it’s great for people on the go
and quite handy if you’re grilling out
or wrapping take home from the bistro
a tip in closing I will bestow
don’t use tin, it’s crass and low
folks will stare and shake their head
tin is such a fashion ‘no’
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem