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

Unyeilding

 

 

Unyeilding

•

my muse is hard to capture
though I do try each day
just goes so fast

I turn around
it’s past me in a blur
leaving little inspiration

each day becomes each night
here I sit in the wee hours
while the sane sleep
steeped in contradiction

thoughts vague
filled with doubt
words tossed about the unyielding page

I start then stop
I write then not
caught mercilessly unclear
in terminal hesitation
in quiet rage

fickle muse – please…
a spark to light this dark
that grips me like a cage

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photo collage entitled “Seeking the Muse” – by: rob kistner © 2007
_______________________________

…see who is going fast at Carry On Tuesday

…discover who is hesitating at One Single Impression

Duet

Duet
•

rounding a bend
brushing through waist-high fern
I crest a knoll and stop

mesmerized

awash in the warm brushstrokes of evening
filtered through this woodland realm
as the waning sun paints the world golden

below me
a pristine ribbon of silver-blue water
flecked with sunlight
sparkles like a strand of gems

transfixed
I marvel at the beauty
at the power
of this mighty river

as it tumbles in timeless clarity
over boulder and falls
ever onward

its lyric voice
beckons me

I come
entranced
stand immersed in its energy
captivated by its duet with the wind
that plays the boughs of the towering pines
singing down the lofty climbs
to gently brush my face
toss my hair
and dance past me round a bend
in perfect harmony

serenaded in this evensong
sunset has melted into moonrise
the waters ripple sterling in soft applause

the moon sets aglow this splendid concert
so I listen
spellbound

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________

• photographs taken near my home in the Cascade Mountain foothills

top photo entitled: “Sunlight on the Clackamas”
bottom photo entitled: “Moon over the Santiam”

_____________________

…this edited rewrite of an older work of mine was inspired by sunday scribblings

Racing

 

 

Racing

•

right
keep right came the response
redirecting the runner
in reaction to his rapid-fire request regarding the route

racing recklessly in redoubled resolve
certain this resurgence would redeem his rough start
he ran rampant

refusing to relinquish his radical pace
no longer rambling
he raged like a rogue renegade

determination renewed
hope refueled
spirit refreshed
his belief was rekindled that a resounding victory would result
if he would just run
run
run

his rally realized
lungs raw and ragged
he rocketed ‘cross the finish line
reared his head
and roared raucously

arms raised in release
tears rolling in relief
he rejoiced
triumphant

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…discover what else is running at One Single Impression

So Amusing

…this is a fond homage to Theodor Seuss Geisel and Sheldon Alan Silverstein…

 

 

So Amusing

•

what is it you find so amusing my dear
perhaps it’s the fact I have only one ear
it makes it difficult to accurately hear
so you’ll have to speak that much louder I fear

yes it’s true, as you see, I have only my right
the left was cut off in a terrible fight
and I have not been quite the same since that night
it’s hard to be happy when you’re a pitiful sight

my glasses are impossible to keep on my face
and my hat just refuses to stay in its place
where there once was an ear I have only a space
but having one ear surely is no disgrace

with only a right ear my intake’s askew
I only hear things from a right point of view
so my right point of view I assume to be true
and therefore it’s righteous — what I think and do

now what is it you find so amusing my dear
I hope you’re not laughing at my missing ear
I suggest you had better stop pointing, you hear
’cause a righteous right-eared man is someone to fear

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…discover what else is so amusing at Carry On Tuesday

Ferryman

Ferryman

 

The Wondrous Dream…

•

sailing on a skiff of dreams
the ferryman standing watch

you soar untethered
‘mong the clouds of wonder

to magical mystical ports of call
where all imagined is in your grasp

if only you could stay the course…
but fast – daybreak approaches

• • •

 

The Final Dream…

•

caught in the final dream
called forth by the ferryman

spirit stirs to the distant voice
readies for the journey

one foot still in this mortal realm
soul resigned to embarkation

time folding in upon
as slow you approach the light

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________


…this piece inspired by readwritepoem
…and by sunday scribblings

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

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

Phantasmagoria

I’ve grown dark in my spirit over the past year, and I want to find my way back to the light and the wonder that used to fill me. I am posting this piece I wrote a couple years ago to remind myself of when I was still in touch with my sense of wonder.

 

 

Phantasmagoria

•

I’ve watched
golden Fire Clouds
hanging in pale green skies
over the azure seas of Toluras

heard the haunting call
of the coral-winged Lellurt
soaring Droon’s violet skies
over teal Darpin Bay

seen the copper leaves
of Parmus fronds
flashing from indigo mountains
in the crystal mists of Gemin

been seduced by saffron Remmors
a’swim with siren song
translucent in the amber waters
of emerald Topiarus

I have beheld exquisite beauty
of otherworldly delight
but nothing to please my eyes and ears
as you, whispering here, tonight

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

_____________________

fantasy artwork above entitled: “Time Window”
featuring elements from justin and rob kistner
final composite created by: rob kistner © 2006

On The Edge

If hell froze over and if pigs could fly, then perhaps there would be an additional host-venue candidate for an upcoming Olympics — and Kevin Bacon and Mia Hamm could be on the US Alpine Downhill Ski Team? Until then, Lindsey Vonn, Bode Miller and all the international skiers are flying down the frozen slopes in Vancouver, BC… so this is a short prose piece I wrote a couple of years ago, but have never posted here on image & Verse — and to celebrate the 2010 Olympics, I am unveiling it here.

 

 

On The Edge

•

It has all come to this. No turning back now, no room for doubt, no fear, no place for mistakes. Years of preparation, visualizing my dream, of tenacious conditioning, practice, of sacrifice, of hope, is finally culminating in this one moment in time.

I hear the winds whistle in the shell of my headgear, the snow crunch crisp and fresh underfoot as I step off the aerial tram and stride to the starting gate. My skis, waxed to perfection, are thrown over my right shoulder, both poles gripped in my left hand. I vibrate with nerves and pure, refined energy.

As I make the short walk I reflect, “over 90 miles per hour for 90 seconds, airborne, hurtling down the mountain like a rocket, free-falling just at the edge of control, at the edge of disaster… at the edge of euphoria! I love this! I can do this, just don’t catch an edge!” I push that brief slip of negativity out of my head, and begin to visualize, while repeating, “tuck tight, knees flexed, eyes down the mountain, fearless… fly!”

I sit to tighten my boots and affix my skis. I hear the chatter of coaches and officials, the mantra-like self-talk of my competitors, and the clamor of the crowds that collect along the course, gathered exuberantly dense at the bottom.

I begin to slowly tune all that into a background monotone buzz, then a quiet hum, squelching –– until finally, I tune it out altogether. I focus, dialing myself into my personal space, my place of vivid concentration, intense presence… my zone.

Here I wait until my coach comes to lead me to the starting gate, where I check in with the race officials, and queue up. It seems just a blink of an eye and he comes, and I go –– go to what I believe will be victory, my time of destiny. I am ready!

Standing behind the next racer poised to start, I acutely envision the entire course, racing section by section, successfully making and re-making the run in my head, the same one I’ve made many times in practice. I imagine the gate fly open, see myself push off, thrusting with all my might into that first steep drop, accelerating fiercely into the first turn, building a torrid pace, knifing down the mountain, as if an apparition, a vapor, a blur… gone 90/90!

At last, alone in the gate, I see the mountain stretch out below me, the crystalline white falling and twisting –– down, down. This is it, it’s here, my dance with fate; but this is no gamble. I am so totally ready for this, ready to roar down the icy slope, surge across the finish line… ready to fly!

The starting tone begins to pulse. My mind links into the cadence, my body feels the rhythm. My vision grows sharp, my senses keen, my surroundings –– vibrant. Time is folding into slow motion, honing down to the long-awaited instant, the critical split-second. My legs are wound springs, my arms and shoulders are powerful pistons, my heart, a thunderous locomotive. The brink is reached, then crossed. The gate swings away as I launch, in one mighty explosion…

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

_____________________

•> collage above entitled: “On the Edge” — by: rob kistner © 2008

…this post was sparked by a prompt at sunday scribblings

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”

Naked

…this is a love poem, that is also a yearning for honesty, in the face of our fundamental human tendency toward insecurity and fear…

 


photorendering entitled: “Liberated”

 

Naked

•

I want to see you
see you naked
naked — backlit by the sun

naked — in a mountain meadow

naked — running in the rain

naked — in a flower garden

naked — lying in the surf

naked — walking in a forest deep

naked — smiling on an autumn morn

naked — in a peaceful sleep

naked — in a redrock desert

naked — by a waterfall

naked — in a gentle breeze

naked — on a silvered night
silhouette ‘gainst a sterling moon

naked — folded in my arms
with your heart and soul laid bare
all your dreams and fears exposed
every pretense stripped away

…naked

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

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

Spellbound

NaPoMo poem #20

This is the twentieth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

This poem was inspired by the image below entitled “The Bride Wore Red”, by Pareeerica

Spellbound

•

scarlet lady in crimson silk
a beauty to mesmerize
sculpted by a master’s hand
so seductive as to scandalize

a stare of comely crystal blue
floats above a ruby pout
spellbound by her magic eyes
she holds your soul with no way out

her tongue tip teases her top lip’s edge
like a supple paintbrush flowing
her smile will pierce and hypnotize
then wrap around you knowing

you are now her helpless captive
quite hopelessly addicted
in the velvet grip of her mystery
is she an angle or is she wicked

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

This Path

NaPoMo poem #6

This is the sixth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

…photo below entitled “Edges”, by Pensiero

This Path

•

I have followed this path
ever onward
to where it has lead

followed its rise
and its fall
in concentric circles of time
sweeping always outward

there is much I have seen
and have experienced

much I’ve missed
and left behind

much I’ve stumbled upon
stumbled over
always to collect myself
and follow on

I have encountered the unknown
been confused
lost my way
and suffered sorrow

I have embraced the wonder
found enlightenment
understood
and known joy

but ever on
this path does lead
and I
in measured step
must ever follow

for I’ve discovered the mystery

I am not on this path
I am this path

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

…poem inspired by a different photo from Pensiero, the individual who created the photo seen in read write image #13, found at “readwritepoem”

 

Skyward

 

…photo below entitled “Followed by a Dream”, by Pensiero

Skyward

•

if I could but glide
to the top of these stairs
like a bird in flight

I would soar skyward
in sweeping circles
lifted on mighty thermals

I would not be earthbound
not a prisoner of these steps
not captive by gravity

and… I would not return to work

this afternoon would be soaring
and swooping
and giving thanks
for feathers and hollow bones

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…poem inspired by a different photo from Pensiero, the individual who created the photo seen in read write image #12, found at “readwritepoem”