Category: Image

Silent

 

Silent

~

do you hear the autumn wind
stirring in the branches

do you hear the leaves rustle

do you hear my breath
whispering your name

do you hear my heart beat

do you hear my tears fall

or is it silent

silent as the light-less realm
that hauntingly engulfs my soul

silent as that night
when apples spilled
on the broken stair
where rail eluded
your grasping hand

silent as your futile cry
when no voice came
to grace your lips

tender lips
that parted gently
to hold my kiss

lips

that will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2011

 

poem & image above inspired by visual prompt below

* linked 2011 at Magpie Tales

* linked 2020 at Poets & Storytellers

Book of Days

 

Book of Days

•

in the book of days
clearly it is written
your time for moving on
beyond the reach of yesterday

in this book of days
so too is it written
clearly mine grow short
my grasp loosens on tomorrow

our miles apart grow greater
our time together lessens
as you pursue the future
I slip further in the past

and per the book of days
this is the way of nature
the son becomes the father
the father bows away

yet stands this father’s dream
would that this space between
but vanish with this pain
of bittersweet farewell

that the book somehow rewritten
would bend both time and space
and my days once more
stretch full to your horizon

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• written for my son Justin upon his moving away

For Naught

 

For Naught

•

the virgin page taunts me

untouched

the bright white
throbs like a migraine

no burden of remorse
no weight of mystery
does it bear

no sting of anger
no wink of mirth
does it proffer

nothing sensual or sensitive to share

no tale to spin
no plot to thicken
no coin of phrase to turn

just vast blank space
tormenting nothingness
cruel emptiness
to drain my brain

dissonance spills through my open window
the scatter of autumn showers
stir of october wind
rustle of moist leaves

in the distance
muffled keens
bursts of barking
far off yelps

the edgy piercing din
of dripping prowling night
intrudes in damp insistence
to fill my head
fevered with frustration
to leave not one small space for wit

the search for insight all for naught

no spark to light this dark
no muse in sight

nothing clever or profound
in the air this night

chilled
slack

uninspired

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales

Wonder

 

Wonder

•

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

• photo: “Alice in Wonderland” by Yuki Valentine

Ballo diVita

 

Ballo diVita

•

he
a master of time and space
she
so young and trusting

he
a wizard of colors and words
dazzled her with danger and dreams
she
a nubile daughter of nature
anointed him with exotic pleasures

he
replaced the sun in her sky
with a fire he conjured and kept
she
warmed herself in its heat
came to his bed at its setting

they
the left foot and the right foot poised
to step forth in creativity’s dance
to whirl and glide persistent and true
in the measure and balance of love

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

King of Sunrise

 

King of Sunrise

•

on the boulevard below
last night’s rain puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
held hostage by tire and curb
as if abandoned by the waters of earth

it shoulders its way through the gutters
in search of mother sea

this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets

me and the first edition
we sit by this morning window
with coffee and curiosity
quietly serenaded by the 5:00 AM news

I read
occasionally glimpse the screen
grow troubled by our human plight
amazed how we never learn
when the answers seem so obvious

in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup
until I stare distracted

the announcer’s mouth continues sculpting words
but I’ve fallen deep into my thoughts
imagining how different it would be
if I ruled this world

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales

Clown

 

Clown

•

I’m the sad little clown with the frowning face
the round red nose and the great big tear
this meek facade and silly sham
belie the horror that I engineer

life’s dealt me cold my hand is slack
not one queen no king nor ace
so violence now dwells in me
masked behind my woeful face

no one suspects the evil soul
that festers deep in this funny fool
they know not the monster here
my gentle sheen conceals the cruel

they don’t realize a broken heart
a ruined life makes one quite mad
they simply see the pitiful
the painted face that looks so sad

the shaggy coat the baggy pants
the red suspenders the big white glove
they do not know it hides the hand
that choked the life from the one they love

town after town state after state
bodies mount in the circus’ wake
in the dead of night at the dark of moon
in frenzied fever each life I take

each beautiful each innocent
each unaware that they would die
there will be more on the road ahead
one for every tear you made me cry

when the circus comes and the tents go up
the people cheer in each sleepy town
because the poor fools just don’t know
who’s really come is the killer clown

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

_____________________

for two more tales of murder written in dark rhyme click “more”

Bogged

 

Bogged

•

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

By These

 

By These

•

melancholy’s grey
the black of loss
fear’s dark ebony
the violet of regret
the purples of pain and anger
sorrowful blues
peaceful greens
golden joy
laughter’s bright amber
love’s ruby red
the scarlet of passion
the white of knowledge

painted by the brush of time
these are the colors
of my life
blended in the palette
that defines my essence

by these
you know me

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales

Boldy Go

 

Boldly Go

•

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

• this poem linked at Writer’s Island and One Single Impression

The Sync

 

The Sync

•

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

Heartfire (redux)

…I did a gentle edit and rewrite of this poem from a year ago,
in response to the May 2nd prompt at Big Tent Poetry…

 

HeartFire

•

the velvet nape
of your slender neck
swept with wisps
of silken hair

the tender swell
of your pouted lips
blossomed full
in comely glisten

your quiet sighs
of smouldered passion
hushed and low
in twilight deep

sterling moonlight
that fondles you
in slumber nude
‘neath midnight’s window

autumn sunrise
crisp and fresh
blushed coral
on your waking smile

sunlight’s gold
that falls dreamlike
filtered soft
in old growth forest

unspoiled nature
to far horizons
from where I gaze
on mountain’s crest

christmas eve
a quiet snow
fresh fragrant cedar
my child’s joy

splendid jazz
inspired verse
an evening breeze
a soul-felt tear

pristine beaches
pacific sunsets
silvered waterfalls
laughter with you

what fires my heart
what stirs my soul
what turns me on
these are a few

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

Unfazed

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.

…written for Day #29, NaPoMo 2011…


 

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

Burst

…written for Day #13, NaPoMo 2011…


 

Burst

•

sky pulls with spring rain
sprouting seeds push seeking light
sun stirs petal’s blush

engorged buds burst to unfurl
nature reaches tipping point

• • •

rob kistner © 4/13/11