•
to grow up
is to chase off
our innocence
our naïve belief
in the world as a beautiful place
to harden against the magic
of our childhood dreams
but if by chance
we can cling to just one
perhaps we can hold on
to our precious sense of wonder
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
the graceful glide
engulfed by the spire
in a roar of golden orange
horribly beautiful
perversely mesmerizing
obscene
devastating images
torrents of humanity
raining down
desperation their only escape
masses of humanity
racing
to outrun the unbelievable
praying
to be delivered from the inconceivable
traumatic images
shrines of free commerce
consumed
by the unbearable weight
of their fragile significance
plummeting to earth
in a cloud of self-destruction
heartbreaking images
screaming
dazed
terrified souls
consumed
by the unbearable weight of the moment
staggering onward
to outdistance the surging roll
of all-engulfing
pulverized aftermath
courageous images
battered
determined
tireless heroes
those who were called
who served unselfishly
some
who gave the ultimate service
haunting images
color
gender
ethnicity
wiped away
from the ashen-grey faces
of the traumatized throngs
now just masks of calamity
all made equal
by horror and grief
one nation
under siege
inconsolable
with tragedy and sorrow
for all
unforgettable images
burned into our hearts
•
that’s the thing about ruts
the longer we remain bogged
the harder it is to escape
•
stopping is no option
to lose the way
is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one be rutted in uncertainty
rigid with the rigor of fear
bogged down in despair
paralyzed
stalled in hopelessness
the giving in
the giving up
caught in anguish
the rot that sets
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go of dreams
arthritic loss of faith
debilitates the soul
cripples the manifest light
that shines forth
at the leap into dark unknown
into the sacred mystery
frozen is the doubting man
withered in a worried cage
terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way unmarked
thus
he bleeds out the color of life
to become cold and grey
a petrified husk
of brittle remorse
mired in regret
for never having shone so brightly
as to blind the eyes of death
stopping is no option
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
• linked at Magpie Tales
•
the great wheel of time
turns ever slow and steadily
its ponderous mass unstoppable
it presses onward mightily
climbs the mortal mountain
bearing the weight of history
of ages and civilizations
borne then razed by its immensity
our lifetimes ride this wheel
how far is but a mystery
locked in fate ’round we go
rolling bold toward hidden destiny
frail temporal beings
of a most amazing bravery
we dream of a tomorrow
for which there is no guarantee
adrift toward a future
of veiled and vague contingency
still — we dare to love
despite this vast uncertainty
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
sad she comes
everyday
to these empty shores
on wings of memory
to serenade this sea
a song of longing
bowed on strings
of a broken heart
mournful for the one
lost to these silent fathoms
her tears
steady as the mists
relentless swept away
by these cold
indifferent waves
only they
know where her lover lies
so everyday she comes
taunted by these tides
to seek their mystery
and every night
darkness falls
chill upon this deep
her forlorn refrain
shatters in the moonlight
the sea holding cruel tight
to its precious secret
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
_________________________
TWO OTHER RECENT POEMS:
•
connection
to make contact
searching for the sync
the heart of the matter
in this solitary journey
from womb to tomb
a stranger
on the bus of days
seeking distraction
chatting them up
to suppress
the voice of isolation
immersed in the small talk
of love
and accomplishment
to drown
the incessant murmur
of alienation
the chant of abandonment
ever there to remind
that we board alone
to make our way
toward an enigmatic destination
clinging
to a vague vision
of home
to disembark
as we began
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
• collage entitled “The Sync” – by: rob kistner © 2011
__________________
• linked at Carry On Tuesday and Magpie Tales
Fret Not
•
people are consumed
by endings
speak of their finality
their permanence
their absoluteness
but I say no
in this age of recycling
repurposing
sequels
syndication
spin-offs
botox
rogaine
viagra
endings are not absolute
eventually inevitable
but in that
they are not so special
not unique
beginnings
these are unique
these are absolute
they only happen once
they are not inevitable
not guaranteed
they require a complex
independent
set of variables
to come together
perfectly timed
properly executed
and in that
they are singular
very very special
so let us not fret
nor dwell
nor waste emotion upon
something so commonplace
as endings
instead
let us seek
let us anticipate
let us celebrate
beginnings
these amazing culminations
of elusive possibilities
they are so full
of promise
of potential
of mystery
so worth our wonder
• • •
rob kistner © 4/30/11
This poem was sparked by the incredible power of our earth, as exhibited most recently by the devastating tornadoes that swept through the American Southeast, and with deep reverence and sympathy for those who suffered as a result. I admire greatly your courage and will to live.
Unfazed
•
we live
by its grace
at its mercy
with delusions of mastery
so close to extinction
grappling awestruck
day-in day-out détente
survival in spite
brute power
incredible beauty
this tolerant
indifferent planet
perhaps the imminence of peril
embellishes our wonder
ignites our superstitions
kindles our will to live
but our light will blink out
this orb will evolve
shine on
unfazed
• • •
rob kistner © 4/29/11
•
needles
hypodermic needles
needles needles needles
BD 30g
sterilized syringes
needles in my arms
needles in my legs
needles in my gut
needles six seven times a day
needles 3 am because
I forget the 11 pm needle
even tiny lances in my fingertips
to verify the needles needles work
needles so that I can see
needles so that I can pee
needles so my heart will beat
needles so I don’t lose my feet
needles so my blood will pump
clean as it can be
needles in my bathroom cupboard
needles in my car’s console
needles in my carry on
needles in the kitchen counter
needles in my sock drawer
needles often two at a time
needles by the box loads
coming in the mail
needles safe inside my sharps
then to the biohazard lane
needles on my night table
needles on my brain
needles in my waking dreams
needles in my nightmares
needles all day every day
needles torn from plastic bags
needles plastic caps pulled free
needles piercing chill glass vials
needles units measured carefully
needles so that I can live
for one more day of needles
yes
needles
cleans
hypos
spikes
needles needles needles
• • •
rob kistner © 4.17.11
Limitless
•
• written for Writer’s Island
Poet
abandon vague image
do not weave a fabric of myth
or speak to us in grand verse
telling of the song of the spheres
or the days before this dark time
you see many things poet
but you talk in riddles
you avoid the cold hard way
for the soft path of platitudes
of metaphors
of meter and rhyme
but this is not the time
look poet
look into the flames
the fire of human suffering
feel it burn your eyes
char your soul
tell us how that feels
tell us how to see
with our own eyes
help us see the real place of light
you must tell us poet
in the power of plain language
in the clear voice of truth
tell us what is real
we will listen
with a pure heart of justice
raise your shield of words
lift your pen poet
like a sword
show us the grip
we will save the beauty
celebrate the wonder
protect the unique splendor
or we will join the battle
to strike down imbalance
to drive away sorrow
lead us poet
we will follow
*
rob kistner © 2011
Written for: Magpie Tales
Poetry at: dVerse
Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers
Poetry at: earthweal
•
from the spark of cognizance
at the dawn of awareness
through the ions of fire and conflict
forward past the dark times
beyond the ages of change
into these centuries of new growth
they have kept it
locked in their hearts
burning in their souls
the keepers of the secret
and now
on the threshold of actualization
realizations unfold
its safeguard is the catalyst
it must never be told
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
seek not the pompous
swelled with false confidence
dispensing the formulas of bliss
condemning you as the un-visioned
while fleecing you of your hard begotten
follow not the kings and queens of mammon
who worship the bottom line
desiring the upper hand
who would despoil the world and all it offers
as their playground of gratification
suffer not the priests and priestesses
who would say that only they have heard
and in so saying would dictate your thoughts
and direct your deeds
to conform to this truth of the god in their pocket
do not be cowered by the iron hand
of the bullet-brained who march in step
to crush under boot the will of any who will not queue
into the line that they have deemed
leads to the only way that life must be
do not be swayed by those who know
possessed of absolutely no uncertainty
knowing sure that what they know is what is
and in their infallible knowledge
know that what they know is was and will ever be
instead — gather with those who do not know
find the curious and the uncertain
those still filled with wonder
drawn to unfolding discovery
who embrace the constancy of learning, change, and growth
it is they who will traverse this evolving world
fashioned as a fair and better place
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
this final edit inspired by prompt #24 at Writer’s Island,
prompt #23 at We Write Poems,
and prompt #74 at Carry on Tuesday.
•
from rippled sinew black as midnight
bores a stare of molten gold
a furious but calm inferno
searing deep to burn your soul
unyielding is this panther’s pace
held captive in this foolish zoo
cold eyes rivet snarled contempt
unfathomed pools of quiet rage
on this panther paces paces
turns and paces back he paces
graceful stride of brute resolve
presses on to test his bounds
proud this captive soul just paces
frustration turns anger retraces
this brutal prison of false environ
does not fool this mighty beast
observe how he continues pacing
instinct certain this is not home
his piercing gaze fixed well beyond
his suffered fate of cruel confine
see the panther pacing pacing
his nature steeled his spirit strong
relentless sorrow wild longing
drive on and on his constant stride
this will not break his fierce resolve
he tracks freedom he stalks life
imprisoned he will forever pace
and he will pace
and he will die
• • •
(haiku)
•
caged beast close your eyes
have no fear of letting go
dream of wild freedom
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
go down in trial
endure the tribulation
emerge rapt in grace
steeled by the tempering fire
molten molded pure and strong
• • •
