Image – Page 2 – Image & Verse

Crows of Castle Keep

“Castle Keep is my metaphor for the mind.”

Crows of Castle Keep

my contemplation on dementia

my memories gather and squabble
like the crows of castle keep
they pick the bones
of my recall

bones against the cruel clay
of an arid
barren mind

littered with the harsh forgotten
like the bones of the dinosaur
I’m becoming

struggling
with what letters are made of
my words crack and crumble

my thoughts
parch and wither

lonely silhouettes
against an unforgiving skyline

fading visions of my past
of my life
my home
of yesterday

harder and harder to remember
the degrees of separation
growing ever greater
smoldering in the fog
of my reflected past

splashes of vivid color
on scraps of paper
blown in the mounting winds
of my confusion

dread rising
that I will soon not remember
what it all meant to me
a stirring fear I will forget
lost in tormented emptiness
that all will go black

this is not just a poem
it is much more

this is a light
searching in blackness
for familiar things
for persons beloved
that I do not recognize

this is a fractured tome
a cry of frustration
a tear of loss
a whispered prayer

an epitaph
to my fading map of then

of cherished memories
that now falter
and dim

slowly slipping
unintelligible
into the cacophony
of the crows of castle keep

~ ~ ~

Click below to heck out more poems of blackness on dVerse:

dVerse Poetics: On Shades of Black

The Secret

photo collage: “The Secret” — by: rob kistner © 1997

The Secret

from the dawn of awareness
through the dark times
beyond the ages of change
into these times

they have kept it
the keepers of the secret

and now
with great fortitude of will
to safequard frail truth
they must keep it still

~ ~ ~

Click for more dVerse poetry:

Quadrille #91 – Keep

Savior

Savior

I remember when it happened
remember well
the blinding flash
that sent me scurrying
underground
into my private bunker

I suspected this possibility
thankfully
I was prepared for the moment

that moment
that horrific moment
forever dividing then
from now

then
comfortably alone
walking my property line
along the azure waters
of the clear mountain stream
that rolled towards me
crisp and pure

then
in an instant
the startling sound
the strange light
soaring above the douglas firs
that stand proudly
at the river’s edge

sentries for centuries
protecting this northern boundary
of my lands

steady
enduring
supple in the winds
that waft and quicken
breathing life
whispering their secrets

now
two years on
since that ominous moment
the bone chill
the penetrating feeling
of fear

now
I am alone again
but now
quite absolutely

no evidence of survivors
my beloved wife
did not make it

the global communication grid
totally destroyed

too long
since I have seen
another’s eyes
or heard another’s voice

now
I ramble this valley
wade this stream
in my hazmat suit
mumbling quietly
to no one

rations are running out
water
food

I am at the ragged edge
of coherence
of sanity

I cling to the hope
for a sign of life
someday
any life

but they are all gone
every — last — one
gone

can I last
have I that patience

how long can I hold center
how long
until my fragile psyche unravels

if I could just remove this helmet
breathe fresh air again
feel the breeze on my face

while the trees are fine
carcasses are everywhere
animals
fish
birds
insects

I fear the air is toxic
deadly

will it ever be safe
how can I know

wait
what’s this

“Hey, hi little fella!”

~ ~ ~

To check out more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

Sunset Gun

Sunset Gun

marksman’s steady aim
secures the sunset gun
day’s journey ends
for the weary sun

quicksilver moon
readies her night’s course
marksman’s sharp eye’s set
his duty he’ll enforce

marksman locks the horizon
solid in his sight
fires the sunset gun
beckoning forth the night

~ ~ ~

Click below to check out more poetry at dVerse:

Quadrille #89–Are you Set?

NOTE:“Video below is ‘Firing Up The Sunset Gun’, by: Animal Logic .”

“This is the 4th anniversary of my wife Kathleen and I moving to Seattle to be with our grandson Alex. I posted this new piece containing mindful reflections on leaving our home in Oregon, and our new Seattle home. The photos are of our Oregon yard in the Cascade Mountain foothills. That is my wife Kathy standing under, and peering up into our 2 giant banana palms. The poem is just below the photos.“

96A0D5B9-69EF-49DB-BE33-C1347DFE7938

E280E402-14C8-4DF8-BE06-05995B79BDD1

8406EEC5-F134-4D0F-AF92-19D3B1F79A86

Time’s Window~

we now have a wonderful
new Seattle home
shared with family
ruled by my little guy
my precious 6-year-old grandson
and I know sweet happiness

but there are moments
with eyes closed
I can gaze back
through time’s window

I see my beloved Oregon home
of 25 amazing years
vividly alive this morning
here in my memories…

through my window this day
I see the scurry of creatures
warmed by the Oregon summer

I hear nature
in splendid voice

the chuff
of a tree’d red squirrel

the song
chirp
and trill of birds

chickadee
goldfinch
western bluebird
and others

fly
flutter
and flit

in a flash of orange
a striking northern flicker
momentarily eschewing insects
is peck peck pecking
cracking black-oil sunflower seeds
that spill from our feeder

a red-tailed hawk
calls
from atop a Sitka spruce
swaying
in the crisp blue sky

the muffled belling of a deer
wandering the safety of old-growth
whispers
through the foothills

the distant bark
of a neighbor’s dog
echoing the basin
up along our stream
reminds me
we have friends nearby

my wife’s
gentle laughter
validates the friendship

her tender smile
validates our love

the rustle of leaves
stirred by the breeze
wafting through the valley

smartly punctuated
by the staccato
of conifer cones
that fall
from time to time
wrested free by chickaree
and chipmunk
chattering high in Douglas fir
busy with their forage

wap wap wap

they bounce off our roof
striking the ground

closely followed
by the scamper
of their liberators
crunching their way
to the heart-meat of the cone
the delicacy
that elicits this furious industry

drifting in the window
intoxicating fragrances

cedar
pine
fir

lily
rose
lilac

grasses
loam
and more

a rich
earthy bouquet

caught in my reverie
I breathe in
deeply
to suddenly remember

…I’m not in my Oregon home
I am in my new Seattle home
and it’s filled to overflowing
with family
and love

for a moment
I do not open my eyes
I linger a bit longer
in my beautiful dream
of my Oregon

my heart will forever be there
but we will likely never go back
not until my ashes are spread
high in the Cascade Mountains
on Mt. Hood
across breathtaking Lost Lake

but here
now
on this day
filled with memories
and joy
a solitary tear
falls

~ ~ ~

This new write was a remarkably mind purifying write for me. Click to see how others are purifying their minds on dVerse:

Poetics- Purifying the Mind

Click to check out the haps at Toads

My Cusp Runneth Over

When I saw Amaya’s prompt today for dVerse it put me in touch with a fun poem I wrote in 2007. I had no opinion of astrology, but I decided to get a personal astrological reading back then from Astology.com to support what I originally wrote for this poem. To update the poem, I got another reading today from Astrology Online.

I posted today’s reading at the bottom of this post. I blended info from this current reading into this revision of my original poem. I hope you enjoy this!

This is the new zodiac sign for Aquarius/Pisces cusp.

My Cusp Runneth Over

Some tongue-in-cheek astrology.

I am Aquarius
a child of water
with equal splash of Pisces too

a lover of freedom
all tethers rejected
all constraints are broken through

I am strong of will
firmly resolute
none dictate what I should do

my mind is my own
not some follower
my path mine only to pursue

my life is unique
it’s of my construct
its purpose is mine to construe

tradition is shunned
my life’s avant-garde
the leading edge never taboo

I’ve an artist’s spirit
and a writer’s voice
my soul’s palette is multi-hue

I am just and fair
quite compassionate
open minded to all that’s new

I am sensitive
with an inventive mind
a philosopher’s vision too

tech is my friend
and the natural world
from both of these I take my cue

my intuitive sense
gives me future vision
to raise the world a notch or two

this all must be real
it has all been revealed
Astrology.com said it’s true

…Astrology Online did too

~ ~ ~

My birthday is February 18th.
I am a pure cusp child born exactly between February 15th – 21st.
This is my reading today on: Astrology Online.

* As an Aquarius/Pisces you are selfless and spiritual, often strongly intuitive and receptive to the collective unconscious.
* You reflect the dual nature of life, reality and non reality, consciousness and the unconscious. You represent consciousness through the flowing of ideas. You work hard to bring your ideas to fruition, stubbornly refusing to give up your causes.
* You are peace loving and friendly, and are the chameleon of the Zodiac, receptive to the needs of others but sometimes getting lost yourself.
* You tend to be strongly spiritual (not necessarily religious) and artistic. You are idealistic, but sometimes your dreams are vague and impractical.
* When reality intrudes, you can become pessimistic or lethargic, but you are very adaptive and broad-minded, so you can rework your ideals when necessary.
* You are tolerant and open-minded, but tend to stick to your beliefs. You are compassionate, sensitive, imaginative and sympathetic to the feelings of others. You tend to be romantic and sentimental, but you may give in to escapism.
* You are devoted to your goals, but you can be disorganized or procrastinate when faced with difficulties.
* Your intellect makes you logical and self-confident, but it may also makes you aloof from people around you.
* You are original, offbeat and even eccentric, but you are also rather bored by detail. Reformist and experimental, you may seem cold toward people who don’t share your intellectual orientation to life.
* You may become withdrawn if your emotions are abused too often.
* You are multitalented, both in scientific and creative endeavors.
* You are unique and rebellious, and are driven to change the world. However, you can be shy, quiet and sometimes elusive, refusing to show your true self.
* You are modest, thoughtful, and display remarkable musical talent. Freedom is important to you, and you are often driven to help others become free, as well.
* You alleviate your emotional stress through contact with others and exercise.
* Your great strength is in your visionary nature and your compassion. You will likely take the world to the next level; and make others see things in a new light. Your ability to break the rules and help others reach their fullest potential make you a most understanding individual.

Check the elements on dVerse:

Poetics: In My Element

Hi! I’m Edgrrr, rob’s shih tzu.

Aeropachydermicide

Aeropachydermicide: recklessly causing the death of someone or something by actions that result from the foolish belief that one is so smart and powerful that one can make an elephant fly.

Aeropachydermicide

Debunking the ridiculous theory of human dominion.

somewhere between our petrochemical insanity
and our reckless dance with fractured atoms
we believed we were the miracle
and it all went seriously awry

we fantasized we had dominion
that we understood the vast unknown
could control the raw chaotic
that we had figured out the why

so we delved into dark science
with no regard for frail nature
flailed our way across the planet
belched our leavings into our sky

we so bought into our egos
that we perceived ourselves as gods
that we were capable of anything
perhaps make the elephant to fly

but we humans lost sight of balance
did not comprehend our place
as only one of precious many
we let the tipping point slip by

now we wonder what will happen
to our misbegotten dream
stare through disbelieving tears
as we watch it slowly die

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 10/3/11
revised © 2019

Click below to check out more poetry at dVerse:

Poetic: Theories of Everything and Anything

Check out more poems on Toads

Hi! I’m Edgrrr, rob’s shih tzu.

Corbeau Noir

Corbeau Noir

I see you
fat young black bird
fat crow
fat innocent

but soon I will see you
in the carrion half-light
of this black caisson
this funeral hearse

unworthy scavenger

as you cluster in a murder
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 this muscle
beyond this 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 energy

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

so take your fill crow
have your way raven
fat black bird — do your best
engorge the glorious

then be gone
scatter
and far off

this caisson has delivered its miracle

ab hoc unum solum

photorendering entitled: “gathering” by: alice popkorn

~ ~ ~

Click below to read about more crows at Sunday Muse:
Sunday Muse 53

Hi! I’m Edgrrr, rob’s shih tzu.

The Gift

unworthy fool am I

to ignore it
to abuse it
to mistreat it
to misuse it
to mishandle it at every turn

no way am I deserving

yet over and over
you lay it at my feet
to protect each step
on life’s harsh road

time after time
you wrap it round me
as shelter
from sorrow’s storm

again and again
it nurtures and sustains me
on my journey through
the wastelands of the lonely

this light
this precious treasure

no way do I deserve
but forever will I cherish
your soul gift
of selfless love

would I could give you
such a gift in return
it would be my purest
my most unselfish gift

a gift golden as the sun
tied in a tinsel of stars
to nurture you always
to keep you radiant

my most precious gift
of a love supreme

~ ~ ~

DAY 7

Swept Away

A bluesman’s life and soul: “Music gives me goose-bumps, especially when created from the heart, by a genuine human spirit…”

Swept Away

(- REDUX 2019 -)

memphis red
no longer is

gray now shines
from a balding head
filled with scarlet embers

memories still burn
a fired spirit

too deep for coddled mortals
to fully fathom

red is real
red is legend

his tales of pain
of injustice
the lore of the big muddy

his eyes
earthy brown
turbulent as that river

his stare
a deep current
impossible to escape
you’re swept away

his voice
a tempered edge
honed by blues

broadleaf husky
thick as sorghum
smooth as beale street bourbon

the cf martin
swings from a leathered neck
on a tattered strap
stretched and shaped
by the heft of sorrow
poured into the soundhole

marked and scarred
by years of burden
of witness

its character and patina
bear testament
to a genuine soul

cracked and seasoned hands
reach with suffered care
to wrap the fingerboard
in love

callused digits
yellowed by habit
depress taut strands
no longer catgut

blood and bone
grip
connect
sculpting emotions

true life
ensnared in sitka spruce
and spiraled steel

knowing strains rise
chords of loss

rhythmic stomp
stinging verse
of broken promise
failed love

of dirt field
cruel street
back alley
of harsh wisdom

resonate to fill this space
to break my heart
to steal my soul

swept away

~ ~ ~

__________________________

photo rendering above entitled: “Knowing”
rendered by: rob kistner © 2007

Click here to read about more blues on TOAD

And So

“sweet memories of my youth”

And So

and so
I think of her
and wonder

what was the fire
that burned so bright
and raged so fierce
as to consume complete

our essence
left embered char
smoldered ashen

that in its heat
and fury
could not sustain

back I drift
to fall upon
the tenderness of youth

the satin skin
the comely gaze
the velvet touch

a silken voice
rising
to lust and longing

to impatience

to immortality

its soulful siren
so seductive
the nectar of all forbidden

the breathless joy
of sweet innocence

when the wonder
stirs to every mystery
and the spirit lights
to every spark

igniting passion’s pyre

to leave one spent
in blissful ruin
at story’s end

tender memory
of the throaty whispers
of promised pleasures
sweetly secreted
in her virgin kiss

and so
I think of her

remembering
with no regret

savoring the subtle linger
harbored in my heart
of the taste
of her lips

long ago
at seventeen

~ ~

“lips lush as cognac
open softly to kisses
urgently linger”

~ ~ ~

________________

click here to read more poetry at dVerse

Clarion Stones

revised for Lillian at dVerse Poet’s Pub

Clarion Stones

all those years ago
in the time of dangers
they were placed in secret
as a silent beacon
in that deepest night

waiting for the day
when the shadowed world
would waken from the nightmare
shed its narrow petty ways
and embrace the way of light

stacked by those of vision
blessed in hope and courage
one upon the other
like knowledge upon learning
these standing stones of peace

hear them call across the ages
and beckon us to rise
to step into the future
to envision a new dream
to let fear and hatred cease

~ ~ ~

stacked stones in Sedona red-rock desert

_______________________

These sculptures are called cairns. A cairn is a human-made balanced stack of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Cairns have been, and still are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present. They are stacked as landmarks, direction finders, memorials, and also spiritual reasons, among other purposes.

Check out more shedding at dVerse:

Shed some light on this today!

Hope

For society to have a real chance we need quality education!

Last Hope

I lift myself quietly
very quietly
from beneath the sheets
soiled with neglect
soaked with my nightmares

I am again awake
from another dark night
that began with fear
fear I might not survive
and ends in sorrow
realizing I did

I rise
make my way carefully
past the shallow-breathed crumple
that lay milky-eyed
in a heap on the floor
un-moving
save a twitch of the head

a head which now harbors demons
where nocturnal angels of sweet release
had lain down lush upon it
in fevered embrace
lustfully conjured
by last night’s spoon and lance
still skewered silver in the soured vein

this wreckage is my mother

I stop but for a glance
verifying life
then move on head down
angle to the bathroom
to the scum-brown bowl
to wash my face
lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
that hangs bare and lonely

strange eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my heart

eyes of knowing
eyes of sadness

grief courses through me
weighing upon my being
burning into my heart

I want to cry out
but there is no one here to hear me
no hero that can help me

driven by instinct to survive
by urgency to flee
I shudder away the paralyzing despair

in this dank food-less morning
in this ruined single room
in this coat-less chill of predawn
I gather up my books
step lightly through the door
down the damaged stairs
into the hostile streets
heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams

I duck and dodge
in and out of shadows
praying to once again avoid the evil
that lurks and slinks
among the garbage and graffiti
of these crumbled bricken’d canyons

that rolls slow and lethal
gripping cold blue steel
in predatory drive-by

evil
seductive as a smile
deadly as a snake

evil
which if diligence should fail
I fear will consume my soul

deliberately I continue
until at last I find my way
to the building
to the classroom
to my teacher
to my desk

to the only hope
to which I dare cling

~ ~ ~

___________________________

Click to learn more about toad’s social awareness

Hedone’s Daughter

WARNING! For adult readers only!

Hedone’s Daughter

radiant vision silken skinned
translucent alabaster blaze
torrid as a teen’s temptation
leaned low
here before me
yearning

straplened ankles fragile turned
stiletto’d rise
on carpet soft
emblazened vixen
forward bent
availed so boldly
flush with craving

graceful face
brazen aglow
comely raised and tilted back
my fingers tangled in your hair
lifting firm
yet luscious slow

swept away in lustful swoon
forearms rest on velvet sheets
eyes aflame in sapphire need
blatant in your fetched seduction

Hedone’s daughter lush with Spring
smouldering
in golden light
that folds upon you soft as satin
‘cross nape of neck
arched silk desire

down glistening back
that tempting tapers
to the tender
warm and sultry
wonderland for fingertips
to touch
and tease
and tantalize

to explore
your quivering body
soul-addictive
luscious
grand
divinely-pleasing sculpted vessel
brought forth by Aphrodite’s hand

virgin fruit swells full and ripe
flesh silhouette to hypnotize
enticing in the candle’s flicker
fondled by my hungry eyes

they stroke and tweak
the blossomed berries
that burst
engorged with passion’s heat

that taunt my tongue to twirl ’round
my teeth to nip in playful tug
draw to my lips
now lewdly moist
to take
and taste in eager suckle

willful hands
of pleasured probing
wrap slender waist
then slowly slide
‘cross pleading hips
of sensuous rise
to fall into erotic folds
molded from the charms of Venus

’round dual swells of burning myth
that writhe
atop two lathen’d stems
long and lithe
as liquid love
turned by pleasure’s gloried angels
tempered in a sacred fire

stretched taut
raised high on tips of toes
proud
defined
and goddess buff

enough to make one
want to stuff
to thrust and thrust
in randy lust
’til passion’s seed
has turned to dust

and wanton
carnal
flames
are snuffed

spring’s sweet madness
full rebuffed

~ ~ ~

_____________________

candle photo entitled “Lovers” by: Bolshevixen

photographer of couple embracing unknown

Bloody Sue

Gather close so you might hear
A tale of terror, a tale of fear
Of a vigilante from beyond the grave
Only justice did this spirit crave
You may choose to doubt my word
But know damned well this all occurred

A vengeful maiden dressed in red
7 men lured, 7 men dead
7 men drawn to this comely miss
7 souls lost to her lethal kiss

A modern legend is Bloody Sue
Her deeds of terror are bold and true
Was she from hell or heaven’s gate
It’s certain her victims earned their fate

The first, the banker, a crooked man
Stole dreams of others with his evil plan
To own the world, to possess the lot
Now all that’s his is a dead man’s plot
Found with coins choked down his throat
Clutched in his hand a bloody note
“You greedy bastards, this could be you
Remember well!”, signed Bloody Sue

The second, the lawyer, a prideful sort
Lied and cheated to win in court
And bragged of his dishonest way
Until violence marked his final day
Found one morning with bashed-in head
A bloody gavel lay on his bed
“Bludgeoned here for his lies and scandal!”
Read Sue’s note, wrapped ’round the handle

The third, the bishop, a man of lust
Molested innocent’s, betrayed their trust
Kept a journal of his lurid deeds
A trophy to all his prurient needs
Found on his pulpit with a bloody lap
His private parts in his bishop’s cap
“Beware vile predators throughout this land!”
Sue had carved in the bishop’s hand

Fourth was the baker, a gluttoness fool
Treated his workers horribly cruel
Paid wages that left an empty plate
While he gorged himself – he ate and ate
One day at the bakery’s opening hour
He was found dead in a vat of flour
Across the vat, bold and big,
In chocolate icing, Sue wrote “pig!”

Then the lazy chief of the town’s police
Unsolved cases filled his valise
Crime and violence everywhere
While he snoozed in his office chair
One day shots rang loud and clear
Sue riddled the chief from ear to ear
“Get another chief, get this damned work done!”
Said the note from Sue, found by the gun

The office gossip, and his jealous way
Spread lies and rumors on the phone all day
His envy the ruin of many good names
Destroying lives with his vicious games
Sue used his phone to strangle him
And left a voice mail dire and grim
“To all who ruin a reputation
You too will die from strangulation!”

Last… the radio talk-show host
Spreading propaganda, coast to coast
Pawn of a racist politician
Thought he was above suspicion
Electrocuted on his live broadcast
Sue dealt justice hard and fast
She was heard to say as hot sparks flew
“Beware you haters, I’ll fry you too!”

So that’s the story of Bloody Sue
Believe it or not, that’s up to you
A brutal beauty in scarlet cape
From her vengeful hands there’s no escape
She will draw from you your final breath
If she marks you with her kiss of death

Some say a ghost who haunts this earth
Others claim an angel, of heavenly birth
But all agree there’s one thing true

If you’re a son-of-a-bitch,
She’ll come for you

~ ~ ~

__________