Shuffle
•
life deals the cards
face down
from a deck
stacked full with jokers
rare
the precious wild card
the game plays out
slowly
turning each card
hand at risk
wild card
strikes a jackpot
play continues
but the jester
hand is bust
player folds
not until
the hand is forfeit
or the final card
face up
is it known
what fate has dealt
• • •
rob kistner © 4/6/11
…I have always loved the fantasy art of Dean Morrissey and James C. Christensen, and this week’s prompt at Writer’s Island put me in mind of their highly imaginative and captivating work, which in turn inspired the poem below, with its “tongue-in-cheek” ending…
Ship of Dreams
•
fantastic is this spell I’m under
magic of a splendorous kind
a world of cornucopic wonder
treasure troves of dreams to plunder
in this kingdom of my mind
here I live a life enchanted
here no fear of any threat
sorrow is by joy supplanted
no limit to desires granted
what I want is what I get
fantasy’s elaboration
a god of pleasure I ascend
soar in sweet hallucination
in ships of my imagination
oh, would this dream but never end
Epilogue
well now, oh dear, that was a bit much
somewhat carried away it seems
euphoria finds me out of touch
with reality, good sense, and such
perhaps I’ll temper my daydreams
throttle back my vision quest
bring fascinations down to size
moderation will serve me best
but dreams are so hard to repress
no limits when you fantasize
• • •
rob kistner © 3/26/11
• written for Writer’s Island
• art piece at top by Dean Morrissey
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
Equinox
•
winter’s journey ends
lengthening light bears witness
spring crests and breaks
here at the equinox
life bursts forth
poking through pliant soil
unfurling on barren branch
here at the equinox
nature stirs in song and call
celebrating new birth
sustaining the cycle
here at the equinox
my heart leaps
my spirit dances
to this rhythm of renewal
here at the equinox
• • •
rob kistner © 3/20/11
Young Flower
•
velvet soft
passion’d purple
newly bloomed flower
full and succulent
tender plumped folds
glisten with dewy nectar
heady fragrance
pleasures the senses
luscious form
ripened blush
delights the eye
a gentle touch parts silken petals
reveals the inner bud
swollen with the urgency of life
intoxicating
such vital beauty
consumed
one savors slowly
exquisitely delicious
this young flower
full bloomed
• • •
rob kistner © 3/14/11
…written for Magpie Tales
Wedges
•
he was slicing wedges
prepping for the night crew
when the stranger entered
walked quietly to the bar
it happened fast
no one saw him draw
the shot traumatized the patrons
no one saw his face
he vanished into the evening
before anyone comprehended
the frail thread of life
severed in a heartbeat
• • •
rob kistner © 3/1/11
…written for Magpie Tales
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
Masquerade
•
when donned the mask
the transformation
smoulders forth
the other
the fantasy
of your desire
carnal fire
on wings of dreams
she is she
and too
the other
unleashed at light
of passion’s moon
a masquerade
to ignite your soul
manifest at your request
sustained this night
at her delight
she is isis
she is venus
she is your every longing
loosed
to bring you every pleasure
she is everything
and all of this
bestowed
with aphrodite’s kiss
as you burn
remember this
beneath the mask
your real bliss
• • •
•
go down in trial
endure the tribulation
emerge rapt in grace
steeled by the tempering fire
molten molded pure and strong
• • •
early shadows fall soft
vesper’s velvet blanket
drapes ’round my shoulders
envelops me in calm
there is still road to travel
eager to keep the journey
I’m drawn by the beauty
of the rising moon in sunset
coaxed by a soothing breeze
I venture on toward my love
rolling amber fires the lane
spreads warm ‘cross the horizon
mist begins to rise and waft
nestled in the valley
I see my hearth & home
guilded copper in this eventide
my heart quickens
stirred by this gorgeous vale
the ribbon of its brook
entwines my soul in wonder
my smile sweetens
my pace livens
I hum a quiet evensong
in the grace of this splendid day
Emerald Eyes
•
emerald eyes captivate
fix me in their gaze
lift me
carry me
to the realm of unfinished dreams
they strip me of fear
longing
of inhibition
to render me transparent
I rise weightless
unburdened of care
an untethered being of pure moment
soaring through universes within universes
a traveler in time and space
ever-expanding consciousness
aware of all
riding the strand continuum
drawing it forward
reeling it back
slipping all temporal bounds
a being of universal presence
adrift in the infinite now
lost in the mystery
veiled in those emerald eyes
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
look instead outside the glare
in the quiet place beyond
where no accolades are strewn
and no ivy laurels donned
where daily life is hard
and the living less than grand
where the strength to persevere
depends on the extended hand
where the poor struggle without
the weak endeavor day to day
it’s here by selfless sweat of brow
the brave endure to find a way
willing to give all they’ve got
to daily do what must be done
to share when even they have not
to face their fear not turn and run
to reach and help the one’s in need
to fight the fight that must be fought
more than the words — to do the deed
to stand and smile not shrink distraught
it’s among these who seldom win
yet rise each day and strive again
it’s here your search should begin
it’s here you’ll find your champion
• • •
(tanka)
•
kind words quell salt tears
strong hand steadies unsure step
warm smile calms heart’s fear
no praise sought or expected
quiet humble champion
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
eyes droop and flicker
aflame with spoiled sleep
face slacked
head now dropped
held in my hands
heavy with confusion
skull upon the finger bones
in weighted indecision
procrastination presses down
where art thou muse
I seek weightless inspiration
to be lifted up by you
instead
the hum of cooling bytes
drones relentless in my ears
impossible to ignore
no matter how I try
thoughts like digits on a dollar slot
spin unsettled in my mind
they neither click nor lock in place
they tumble in a jumble
to roll and blur just out of focus
lost in mental fog
sunken in my writer’s chair
I remain immobile
paralyzed by perplexity
imprisoned by the chaos
awhirl in my mind
the freedom of decision
impossible to manage
I fear nothing will be writ
no first ink will be shed this day
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
From down there, down there,
it’s coming from down there.
From where — down there?
Yes Sis, I swear!
That horrible smell
that’s filling the air,
the one that’s most certainly
impossible to bear,
is coming from that women
with the massive blue hair
sitting alone on the patio chair,
on the deck of the house,
that’s below us — right there!
What a putrid aroma,
you’d think that she’d care.
There are simply some things
that one never should share,
like the stink that is rising
from that patio chair,
on the deck of the house
that’s below us down there.
And the hideous color
of that mountain of hair —
I can’t help it, can’t help it,
I can’t help but stare.
It’s a tangled and horrible monument to
a disgusting and eye-blinding
shade of bright blue —
and it’s causing a feeling of nausea too!
I must look away my heads starting to whirl,
and I feel that my toes are beginning to curl,
I fear over the edge here I’m going to hurl —
and I don’t want to do that in front of a girl.
Maybe I’m wrong
but I would assume,
if one’s going to bathe
in a noxious perfume,
they’d at least have the manners
to exhibit some pride,
and not foul the ozone,
instead — stay inside.
Not to be the forecaster
of gloom and of doom,
but keep the eco-disaster
contained to one room.
And if you’re chromatically challenged my friend,
consider the others that you might offend.
A monumentally grotesque rat’s nest of blue,
is not something I care to look at on you!
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Mag 33