Category: dark

Fear

…I share this piece I wrote in the descending 3rd evening, of a horrible 4 days, not as my primary contribution to day 3 of National Poetry Month, but in light of the RWP topic “fear” — as a way to reach out to others who may, at times, suffer the debilitating horror of extreme manic depression. This ‘elevator’ can take you so very high, but when it falls… however, it can be overcome if one recognizes it, faces it, and refuses — everyday — to give it victory…

Fear

•

there is a darkness

I have known its presence
encountered its essence

it frightens me
it frightens me because it is
because it is so very devious
sinister
debilitating
all-consuming if granted license

it lurks in shadow
collecting

collecting the dark matter
that steals into my life
into my heart
all the grief
failure
pain

all the terror
that has ensnared me in times of weakness
all the empty blackness that has befallen me
that has found a corner of my soul in which to hide
to sulk
secure foothold
like an awful seed taking root

here it grows
here it dwells
manacled and restrained in times of strength
kept in check by my decent self
my self that loves
encourages
supports
that embraces possibility
my sacred self that nurtures
that fosters empowerment

but

my inner-dwelling light
does not always shine so bright

does not always hold sway
nor control my inner darkness
my inner darkness has great cunning
powerful influence

it is at times quite un-containable

this darkness
that has fed upon the horror
that has been visited upon me

the betrayal the abuse
the unthinkable loss
that has compounded and festered
that has become animate
as if an entity unto itself
that has gripped and driven me

distraught
despaired
vengeful
unforgiving

driven me to a perverse unholy bitterness
wholly unable
to fend off the clutches of this malevolence

it is on occasion far easier
even desirable
to succumb to these dark forces
that promise relief
falsely entice with imagined satisfaction

but there is no quick release from the pain
from the sorrow
that is an inherent component of life

one must endure
and be tempered invincible by this endurance
steadfast in the crucible of resistance

but the inner-mounting darkness
will ever seduce
its tug is powerful

I pray here tonight
as I am swept up
in bittersweet memory of you
overwhelmed by the sorrow of loss

I pray that the darkness
does not sense that I am vulnerable
does not prey upon my growing distress
that falls shadow-like across my soul
that veils my resolve
my courage

I pray that the black void
does not birth the despair
the anger that begets my other
my alter
my poison self
that I so detest

…and fear

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_______________

• return to readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #2 – The Willow / Spring

This is my second post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

____________________________________


…Remembering Willow Pond…

 

The Willow

•

the old man sat quietly
day after day
hands resting on his knees
day after day
hardly moving

save to raise his hand
to brush his brow
or adjust his cap

day after day
quietly
on the same park bench
at the pond
near the same tree
same willow

you could watch him come
mid-morning

see him leave
at dinner time

day after day
sitting there
hands on his knees
quietly
same bench
same tree

one morning
as he sat there
I left my office
walked across the street
into the park
approached him
smiled
and sat down beside him
quietly

he said nothing
so we sat together
for a while
quietly
on the bench
by the tree

finally
I spoke up

why do you sit here
old man
sit here
everyday
day after day
here on this bench
watching the pond
so quietly

he tilts his head
speaks softly
I’ve come here for years
he says

but how can that be
I say
these office buildings
this park
they’re all new
how could you have come
to this park
for years

not to this park
he says
not to this park
to this tree
me
and all my friends
came to willow pond
to this tree
this old willow
for years
day after day

why
I ask
why to this tree

quiet smile
we played cards
in its shade
he explains
we talked
laughed
we listened
at the pond
in its wonderful shade
day after day
this wonderful willow

where are your friends
I ask
why are they not here
with you
on the bench

because
he hesitates
they are gone
he says finally
quietly

gone
gone where
I ask

gone
is all he says
quietly
unmoving
hands on his knees
all gone

oh
I say
I see

do you
is all he says

so why do you sit here
day after day
I ask

he stares straight ahead
and after a bit
he says
I’m listening

listening
I say
listening for what

he sits quietly
for a while
then
without changing his gaze
without raising his hands
from his knees
he says
for anything
anything familiar

a small tear
glistens
in the corner of his eye

• • •

________________________

 

 

Spring

•

purple finch sings out

budding trees are plentiful

spring is upon us

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

____________________________________

…for more NaPoWriMo 2010: readwritepoem…

Caisson

 

 

Caisson

•

see you
see you in this carrion half-light
unworthy scavengers

you cluster to ravage
to defile the entity
drawn in this caisson

but you cannot

the living presence it bore
is greater than you

your gluttonness lust
might pick the meat clean
pick the bones dry

but this being has lived well beyond the muscle
beyond the sinew tendon and bone
these were its limits

now it is set free

so help yourself brother crow
sister raven
birds of black
help yourself

this essence has gone beyond
far beyond
to become infinite
pure thought
unbound spirit

what you pick apart is the afterimage
of a mortal now eternal

so take your fill crow
have your way raven
blackbird — do your best
engorge the glorious

then be gone
scatter
and far off

this caisson has delivered its miracle

unus est privatus

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________


…this piece inspired by readwritepoem…

• photorendering entitled: “gathering” by: alice popkorn

Avatar

 

 

Avatar

•

you do not see
me

no shadow do I cast
that you perceive

no movement
to catch your eye

no color
no shape
no texture that is truly mine

you see
the avatar of your fantasy
the puppet of your desires
the specter of your lust

to you
I
am invisible

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

___________________________

• you can find more avatars at One Single Impression

…image found here…

 

Alchemy

“Went digging through some of my older poetry to find this piece I wrote 9 years ago, March 2010. I remember being inspired to write it watching Hermione’s love potion scene in ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Price.’ I had just purchased the DVD at the time. My grandson was watching the DVD last night, which put me in mind of this poem. Wanted to share it here for dVerse OLN #252. It contains very minimal revision and a slight upgrade in graphic embellishment”

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Alchemy

~

you cannot change
a heart of iron
into a heart of gold

no precious warmth
will manifest
from something hard and cold

a love that’s locked
and set in cast
can never be set free

there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy

51A71700-37A0-46A2-8732-6ED479833CDF

you cannot stop
the hands of time
from spinning ever on

when the sand
is through the hourglass
those days are ever gone

you cannot bring summer back
when the leaves
are off the tree

there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy

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~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2010
revision © 2019

 

  • Click below to check out some fine poetry at dVerse:

    OpenLinkNight #252

    • Sing

     

     

    Sing

    •

    a tear can cloud the brightest day
    song will brush aside the clouds
    is not sadness just a passing state
    but what a melody can chase away

    a tune played true with voice in tow
    little sorrows flee from such display
    thing is, so few will dare seek joy
    and thus succumb to feeling low

    yet when life is lived in harmony
    what hurt you have will drift and fade
    joy in chorus will lift the heart
    it swells the soul in reverie

    is it not foolish to keep bliss entombed
    to see not but the dark and gloom
    sing — and laughter will light the room

    a song is but a little thing
    and yet what joy it is to sing

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    • photorendering entitled “Sing For Joy” – by: rob kistner © 2010
    _______________________________

    …catch the other tunes at Carry On Tuesday…

    The Collector

     

    The Collector

    •

    this day as I journey
    I come upon a stranger
    standing by the road looking sad
    heavy box held in his arms
    clutched close to his breast

    he stares into my eyes expressionless
    his gaze stops me still
    fixes me in place

    his face is tired and drawn
    etched in withered worry

    when at last I move
    I draw close enough to see
    this sullen man is me

    everyone is born with some special talent
    he sighs
    I am a collector
    of tears shed in moonlight
    the pain of love’s betrayal
    the grief of empty lives

    he concludes
    and offers out his hands
    that open on the box

    he beckons me retrieve
    this container he protects

    filled with apprehension
    I reach and grasp the case
    lift it cautiously from his grip
    lay it gently at my feet

    it opens as I do
    slowly
    to reveal its strange contents

    three lone broken hearts


    mute with wonder I behold
    confused yet riveted
    I ponder haunted as I do
    then inquire of the meaning

    these are yours
    I am told

    created by your deeds
    cruelly left behind
    as coldly you moved on

    each belonged to one who trusted you
    a trust you did betray
    without a second thought
    love you tossed aside
    abandoned carelessly

    now the burden of this box
    is mine beyond the grave

    eyes lowered in fatigue he exhales

    it was on a road like this
    that it was passed to me
    I have carried it too long
    I am weary from the load

    looking into my eyes he points

    now you must bend and lift
    and clutch it to your breast
    to struggle with its weight
    until you pass it on

    searching the distance he goes on

    someday a stranger will approach
    over that horizon
    he will stop and stare
    transfixed by your presence

    you will charge him with this chest
    then he will lift and carry
    as I do
    in this cycle of forever

    for he too
    will be you

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    • photo collage entitled “Broken Broken Broken” – by: rob kistner © 2010
    _______________________________

    …see other special talents at Carry On Tuesday…

    Graspless

     

     

    Graspless

    •

    moonlight keeps dark at bay
    pressing in
    as night winds stir
    mocking final breath of life
    lost to the lightless realm
    beyond the chill encircling me

    no emotion here
    save grief

    failed digits of a graspless hand
    on a broken stair
    where ankle bent
    and held oranges spilled

    no voice came to the futile cry

    those lips will not know again
    sweet fruit

    nor love…

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …come see what else is in hand at Magpie Tales…

    The Elephant

    …this piece evolved from both a visual prompt (see below) on Magpie Tales, as well as a “hinge” prompt on Read Write Poem…

     

     

    The Elephant

    •

    so many times
    I return home from a business trip
    swing onto our concrete carport
    pause – and key the engine off

    all is silent – save the tick and popping
    as the engine cools

    my favorite moment
    just before I open the door
    to step out
    to approach the house — approach you

    this moment of anticipation

    knowing you are waiting
    bathed and fragrant
    warm and soft
    dressed in something that will whisper
    welcome home my love – I’ve missed you

    to take you in my arms
    fall into your loving eyes
    pull your willing body close
    to wrap ‘round you
    drink you in – intoxicated

    these moments melt into sweet love making
    that continues until exhaustion

    we both love when I return

    but tonight
    I do not key the engine off
    I do not reach for the handle
    do not open the door

    I simply sit

    my warm hand encircling
    the coolness of the ivory fob
    you gifted me with
    on our African honeymoon

    you are no longer waiting
    not in quite sometime
    not since you lost your battle brave
    not since I held you, that final time
    your body still soft and warm

    warm as my trembling hand

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …come see what else this little elephant inspired at Magpie Tales…
    …and check out what’s hinging at ReadWritePoem…

    Entrapped

     

    Entrapped

    •

    unfurling in linear spiral
    time escapes into the future
    tethered to the past
    ever captive in the now

    over and over
    repeating in my head
    these same strange words
    the same chilling voice
    over and over

    unfurling in linear spiral
    time escapes into the future
    tethered to the past
    ever captive in the now

    always the same fevered dream
    the fear
    the guilt
    the regret

    I am fallen
    paralyzed
    unable to lift my head

    it’s then I see him
    see him coming
    slowly out of the mist
    coming
    always coming

    his sour smile
    menacing
    condemning

    I want to rise up
    run at him
    scream at him
    strike at him

    run from him
    run

    but I cannot
    I cannot

    again that haunting voice

    unfurling in linear spiral
    time escapes into the future
    tethered to the past
    ever captive in the now

    but what
    what does it mean

    I’m going
    going — I think
    going mad
    mad

    what does it mean

    why — charles
    it means nothing
    and everything

    and yes — charles
    you are going mad

    who
    who are you
    how do you know my name
    why won’t you leave
    leave me alone
    what do you want!

    want?

    why – you, charles
    tethered to your past
    ever captive in this now

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    Running Out

     

    Running Out

    •

    he runs his fingers through her hair
    tears run down his cheeks
    he holds her near
    cradled
    too late protected

    he runs the events
    over and over in his mind
    the horrible events

    daisey
    our golden lab
    running out into the street
    you running out after
    right into the path

    run down

    why
    why
    why did you run

    now time
    and your precious life
    running out
    running out

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …discover what else is running at One Single Impression…

    Charles

     

     

    Charles

    •

    this night charles is a traveler
    adrift in the mists of time
    in a rough-hewn dory of his mortality
    curiosity is his poleman

    overcome by insecurity
    charles has abandoned his reality
    to sail beyond the mystery
    drawn to the light of clarity

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    _____________________


    …this piece inspired by readwritepoem…
    …and by sunday scribblings…

    photo collage entitled: “charon” | by: h.koppdelaney

    Seeking Forgiveness

    …this is a poem about the horror and ethical dilemma that is war, and the devastating impact it has on many soldiers…

     

    Seeking Forgiveness

    •

    my eyes

    crisp red from the scalding sun
    from devastation’s fires
    from cruel vision of relentless horror
    scorched by vicious exposure of sentenced gaze

    take refuge in this heavy late evening dew
    thick with munitions soot
    settling like a shroud
    lubricious
    opaque
    obscuring

    I am sustained by this damp cool pall
    that descends upon me
    wraps ‘round my pained countenance
    fevered with fatigue
    deafened by weapon’s roar
    crippled with despair

    driven by faint memory of honor
    of duty
    of human dignity
    I stumble
    broken by this sin I shoulder
    this perversion
    not of my making
    but of my charge

    my sin

    conceived and unleashed
    by those who would impose their will
    their twisted utopian vision
    who would advance their agenda of domination
    those who would take it all
    wear the conqueror’s crown
    who would rule the world

    a world now broken
    corrupted by their vision
    spoiled by their vanity
    a world in chaos

    I have but this bloodied ruin-riddled highway
    of deepening nocturne
    of dying dreams
    crushed innocence
    destruction
    death
    decay

    of my duplicity
    of my guilt

    my shame

    fear not for the future
    weep not for the past
    …impossible

    and so I stumble on
    muttering mea culpa
    saturated with this falling evening
    with this drenching sorrow
    slinking in exhausted alert
    nerves shattered as eggshells
    numb to panic

    hollow
    empty
    into this coming night

    and the next night
    and the night that follows
    that always follows

    captive on this road of murder
    of mounting evil
    of brutal human arrogance
    prisoner of this lost highway

    seeking forgiveness

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …inspired by the readwritepoem prompt #114, prompt #202 on Sunday Scribblings, and prompt #40 on Carry On Tuesday, I edited and rewrote two separate poems I originally wrote in 2007/2008 – and blended them together into a new single work…

     

    •> click HERE to read The Failure of Architecture, a poem I wrote about the ethical dilemma of the corporate world <•

    The Failure of Architecture

    …this is a poem about the dehumanizing impact of the cubicle’d corporate world, and the often questionable ethics that pervade it…

     


    …collage entitled: “Robotomy” – by: rob kistner © 2004…

     

    The Failure of Architecture

    •

    they rise gargantuan
    icons of the clever human

    they vibrate
    with the chaos of mixed agenda

    they hum with networked urgency
    data outdistancing comprehension
    ‘we can’ beyond the reach of ‘should we’

    bedecked in stainless
    glass
    and stone
    ablaze in halogen and neon
    strewn here and there with art
    their essence remains sterile
    their foundation is profit
    their cornerstone often cupidity

    in varying shape and differing size
    swollen with the buzz
    rustle
    and clatter
    of corporate cacophony

    they flank in concrete corridors
    that criss and cross
    ensnared in the honk
    screech
    and roar
    of gridlocked anguish

    soaring above the drone and glare
    and the dirge of dying dignity
    these pretentious monoliths can intimidate
    emotionally eviscerate
    creatively castrate
    spiritually suffocate
    stagger and stun

    a cold calculated majesty

    ultimately — this architecture fails
    for it does not move the soul
    that seeks the folded petal’s mystery

    that marvels
    at the smallness of a sprouting frond
    the beauty of a burled oak
    the magic of a budding branch
    at the glory of a redwood’s rise

    it does not lift the spirit
    soothed by a morning breeze
    whispered in autumn aspens
    or stirred by a loon’s lament
    over the still water of a dusk lake
    or thrilled by the song of birds
    the mighty swoop of a redtail hawk
    or captivated by a coyote’s midnight call

    it cannot touch the heart
    that needs to see a salmon’s trek
    the dolphin’s arc in an open sky
    the roll of unobstructed clouds
    or a fall of stars

    it offers nothing to the dreamer
    who needs to hear the crack of thunder
    resound for miles across the plain
    then off the mountain’s face again

    yes…

    this architecture fails the human core
    that needs the fresh embrace of rain
    the crisp and quiet drift of snow
    the hues and sway of living fields

    it leaves the spirit cold
    that needs to watch the orchards bloom to fruit
    see forests thick beyond horizons
    or feel the lift of cresting surf

    no…

    there are no human constructs
    that satisfy this need to know true splendors
    evolving natural wonders

    wonders that inspire
    resonate the heart
    that liberate the soul
    to leave one…

    …transcendent

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …this edited rewrite, of a poem I wrote in 2007, was inspired by a prompt at sunday scribblings…

    Shut Down

    …this is a love poem, that addresses its sometimes sad impossibility…

     

     

    Shut Down

    •

    I hope to find you,
    Find you, the elusive,
    Elusive, hiding from the light.

    I want to see you,
    See you, the hidden,
    Hidden, cowering out of sight.

    I long to know you,
    Know you, the evasive,
    Evasive, running, ever in flight.

    I want to touch you,
    Touch you, the distant,
    Distant, and as dark as night.

    I want to love you,
    Love you, the frightened,
    Frightened, damaged by your plight.

    But I can’t reach you,
    Reach you, so broken,
    Broken, untrusting, shut down, closed tight.

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …poem written in response to prompt #113, found at “readwritepoem”