joy – Image & Verse

The Lotus

~ the dream goes on forever ~

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “The Lotus” by: rob kistner © 8/7/24

Dream with me my love
love is the magic we will seek

seek it until the end of days
days numbering to eternity

eternity — where love’s magic hides
hides in the folds of the lotus

lotus petals — love’s open wings
wings of pure beauty and truth

truth — the key to perfect surrender
surrender is the secret of love’s dream
dream that goes on — forever

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “For You Love”
by: rob kistner © 8/7/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

More dreams at: dVerse

Pepper’d Memories

Yes — I was the walrus
so too the fool on the hill
I was the nowhere man
sometime I feel nowhere still

but when the Fab4 took the stage
and raised their voice in song
they roused my golden slumber
my spirit sang along

I strolled to strawberry fields
along sweet penny lane
and when miss Rigby died
I felt McKenzie’s pain

stowed in the submarine
and sailed beneath the waves
down with the octopus
among the coral caves

and when the sergeant
struck up his lonely hearts club band
I fell in step by step
to march off to Pepperland

but before I’d hit the road
I ended up wounded in my bed
a delinquent name of Maxwell
took a hammer to my head

he’d come through the bathroom window
I forgot to shut it tight
I should have known better
but it’d been a hard day’s night

my friends had called for help
doctor Robert came in time
I’d said doc don’t let down
he did not — and I feel fine

cops searched helter skelter
looked here there and everywhere
but they found clues for no one
I said let it be I didn’t care

leaving home, you won’t see me
I said heading out the door
when I saw her standing there
my lover from the night before

oh darling let’s go day trippin’
I want to hold your hand
down this long and winding road
it won’t be long to Pepperland

now we’ve come together here
me and my sweet belle Michelle
she’s been writing paperback novels
the kind the drugstores sell

we have no plans to get back
we’re swept up in the allure
of Lucy and her diamond skies
on our magical mystery tour

even with George and Johnny dead
that old magic’s not yet slipped away
because old Paully‘s discovered AI
so a brand new tune is on the way

it will be so very cool
to hear them once again
to remember those wondrous days
get to relive them now and then

*
rob kistner © 4/5/11
expanded version: rob kistner © 6/13/23

Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/oz3JlMhgfq0

Love’s Summer Serenade / Seaside

These first written & published for NaPoWriMo 2010

Love’s Summer Serenade

sing to me my sweet sweet lover
songs as soft as silk and satin
sensual as a bare embrace
warm summer sun upon our face

promise me the world is ours
that this perfect moment’s endless
lift me up on rapture’s cloud
my racing heart is pounding loud

make melody set sail our souls
fill our hearts with passion’s fire
smother me in scorched sweet kisses
oh what a fiery bliss this is

come to me and take me timeless
sweep me off to ecstasy
enfold me in your deepest dreams
simmering under summer moonbeams

so hot we’re looking for some shade
aflame in love’s sensual serenade

Seaside

soft sand warms bare toes

senses stirred by surging surf

summer at seaside

love as fresh as ocean breeze

kisses hot as sizz’ling sun

*
rob kistner © 2010
revised © 2023

More poetry at: dVerse

SunsetGunn

NOTE — I borrowed lines and inspiration from my 2011 poem: Skye Fyre

The SunsetGunn is loaded, the controls, in GunnMaster’s grip
calmly concentrating, he scans the horizon with careful eyes
the golden sun having made his journey, is weary from the trip
quicksilver moon will very soon, traverse the starry skies

Gaia rolls on gently, hushed in quiet space
GunnMaster has her skyline, locked squarely in his sight
Gaia pulls a veil of stars, slowly across her face
GunnMaster has a task, he needs complete before its night

he’s to set the sky ablaze, before he falls to sleep
a fiery coral-orange, twilight-blue, and crimson-red
in patterns broad and bold, in colors rich and deep
he carefully aims the SunsetGunn, and blasts it overhead

in a brilliant, blinding flash, he sets the dimming skies a’fire
in vivid hues, and lavish shades — the dusky sky ignites and burns
GunnMaster has succeeded, so for this night, he can retire
the SunriseGunn already loaded, in early morning, he returns

*
rob kistner © 2023

Poetry at: dVerse

A few more from Animal Logic — GOOD SHIT!

Spellbound

poet
you are enigma

darkness and shadow
you veil and shroud

fire and light
you burn and incandesce

torch my essence
burn deep my soul
trouble my spirit
unsettle my being

then poet
ignite my wonder

whet my seeker’s vessel
with need
to be filled full

poet
at once familiar
yet
exotically foreign
wonderfully strange

wrongly boxed but
exquisitely wrapped

in angst
indignation
longing
discovery
loss

in love

with all these
and infinitely more
you reach an empty place
deep within

echoing my past
awakening my myths

exposing
that which I embrace
in the moment
as truth

refocus me

stirring my pain
my anger
my loneliness

my hope

offering just enough answer
that I combust with question
sacred uncertainty

I’m held
suspended in inquiry
in memories of neverwas

enrapt by your careful words
transfixed by mystery
elevated by insight
impaled by vision

spellbound

Finish Line

This song by Sarah McLachlan, “In The Arms Of An Angel” always makes me break down. He is my son, Aaron Robert Kistner. Hearing this song takes me deep into memories of my sweet angel. My son Aaron died in his 18th year, just prior to entering college to study music. He was a very handsome, kind, and gentle young man – and a fabulous singer. I miss him so, everyday. I ache to hold him close just once more — to hear his beautiful voice. I wrote this poem very shortly after his tragic death in a horrible auto accident.

In loving memory of my son, Aaron Robert Kistner: 11/4/76 – 7/3/95

This is my favorite picture of you son,
the one I treasure most
since your passing.

A simple snapshot,
taken at the airport,
upon your return
from having run the New York City Marathon.

A gentle, triumphant smile,
eyes beaming behind those ‘cool’ shades,
jacket sleeves rolled in casual hip-ness,
bag gripped firm and steady in your left hand,
medal dangling proudly from your strong neck.

The victor: gentle, cool, hip, carefree, proud, and strong,
– fiercely handsome!

How profound this captured moment proved to be.

Taken just before the finish line of your 18 years,
it said it all.

Your race is run,
your bag is packed,
your reward’s in hand.

Fly my sweet angel – fly!

*
rob kistner © 1995

To Us

To all d’Verse poets — Salùte!

L et us drink deep
this wine of friendship
ripened well with time
aged to a vintage true

may this nectar rare
sweeten all our days
may its heady warmth
linger long and lush
lighten life’s burdens
and ever lift our spirits

here’s to us!

More poetry at: dVerse

Seductive Fantasy

…a stream of consciousness trip…

Soaring psychedelic
colors pierce my eyes
to bleed into my mind
pulsing into shapes
and melting forms
dancingly irregular
a brilliant cacophony
of fully beautiful discord
that flows in time displacement
blared breathing blending abstract

wow dude!
~~ drifting drifting ~~

so wondrous and magical
as to create a dreamspace
where reality steps away
to a seductive fantasy
that roils and broils
a seething serenade
of sounds and vision
a sanctified vibration

simply too gone!
immaculate!

joyful noise’d orblets
flaring and flashing
in hues and shades
in timbre’d cadences
they spark stiletto sharp
stabbing staccato’d stealthy
and again colors pierce my eyes
lovely rumblings fill full my ears
shifting spinning and floating
to journey a’new through
my beautiful bountiful
and utterly blown
mind garden

}|=|{

psssst! hey! you!
am I conscious man —
— or halluuucinating truuuth?

Day 1 poetry at: NaPoWriMo 2021

That Velvet

Vote = Voice — Speak Up! 2CC45105-E580-4197-9120-35D724A74CF8

Sorry for this interruption. Feel free to ignore this section and move directly down to the poem, if you choose. The poem is much more sensual and dreamy. This first section is cold, no-filtered, stark reality — fully and sincerely expressed, as I see it. You see, I need to sum up my final, perhaps controversial thoughts, on the issue of protest, introduced here last Thursday. I have been slowly simmering since then: Love MUST win. My proud hippie soul tells me it can — it must for earth, and her human tribe to flourish. As naive and pollyanna as this may sound, I haven’t lived nearly 74 years believing that peace, love, and intelligence will find a way — to simply stand by and see these qualities of integrity snd dignity trampled beneath the feet of humankind’s baser instincts. Perhaps good people have turned the other cheek for too long. Maybe being passively resigned to the perpetraters of evil is not the way. Perhaps it requires an extreme natural culling of the tribe to remove the evil, the result of the arrogant stupidity of that group. Whether I should revel in that possibility is something my peaceful self has been truly struggling with the past few years — since the extinguishing of the Obama light. It goes against my nature. But the continuing greedy, destructive, and heartless ways must end, or perhaps be brought to an end. At my age and health, I, and most of my Aquarian generation, can’t, or won’t, effectively mount the resistance. We lack the stamina or money, or both. Too many among my generation, who may be capable, have lost the vision — turned during the mine-me-first Reagan 80’s, and the grab-fest in the years that followed. I feel we need responsible, strong young leaders to organize on a large scale, activate on a broad scale. It breaks my heart to say it — but me and my generation, we failed. Those who are coming after us, can’t afford to — or humankind and this great spaceship earth, truly are fucked! The power can belong to the young — take it, and wield it wisely! Sorry if I shocked or offended. Just the honest humble opinion of a tired old man. Not too tired to *** VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! ***

========================

And now {{{deep breath}}} time for the poetic entertainment:

***

…inspired by the Kate Bush video, “The Sensual World”…
This is a 2nd revision of my original 2012 version.

That Velvet

would I were that velvet
that she reaches for so fondly
strokes with delicate pure fingers
with soft silken hands she lingers

embraces to her bosom
wraps ’round her slender shoulders
tingles with excitement
as she surrenders to its touch

would I were that velvet
that drapes her lilting essence
that falls and folds and fondles
as she ascends the stairs each night

the plush and luscious fiber
that rises on her breasts
with each soft and subtle sigh
each deep impassioned breath

oh would I were that velvet
that glides her naked form
on those sunset autumn evenings
enwraps her perfect body warm

that chills and thrills in shivers
as she opens it ‘neath moonlight
and swoons hushed smouldered gasps
as she blooms forth firm and pleasured

oh would I were that velvet
would I were that velvet
oh sweet sensuous angel
would I were
would I were

~ ~ ~

Open Link Night #275

Time’s Window

“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.“

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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

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

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!

Touch of Love

Touch of Love

a quarter century ago
in the shadow of the tall ships
nestled inter-coastal
on the outer banks of Beaufort
our passion burst to flame

we bound that flashpoint moment
in a promise of forever
and a band of abalone
I found there in that sunset
on the Carolina sands

as ever-precious
as the diamond ring
that now encircles in its stead
that pearled bit of shell
immortalized our pledge

even to this day
it rests next to your heart
where it falls true and warm
on links of purest gold
my constant touch of love

~ ~ ~

Click below to read more poetry at dVerse:

Open Link Night #233

Yet

inspired by the first day I met my wife in 1987…

Yet

had she not appeared in that clearing
so lost

had she not crossed my threshold
on that september day

had not her voice
drifted like silk on a summer breeze
to wrap sheer and sweet
around my heart

had not I been drawn
like a bloom to the morning sun

had not I been captivated
as a hummingbird
by a drop of nectar
crystal on a velvet petal

had not my love come down
soft as a rolling mountain meadow

had not this dream been born

had not my life begun again

~ ~ ~

Arrested

Arrested

she’s left only her jacket on
unbuttoned
blousing open

the gold of her badge
glints fetchingly
in the glow of candlelight

her breasts
partially veiled
soft in the amber wash
gently rise and fall
with her heavy breath

helplessly
my eyes glide her length
fondled warmly
by the lush half-light
folding upon her
from the single flame

they pause
entranced by the velvet flower
sensuously shadowed
in the satin cleft
where supple limb
meets supple limb

intoxicated by this vision
I can only stare
and melt

utterly arrested

~ ~ ~

________________________

The “X” rated 2018 version

-=> RAW ADULT CONTENT <=-

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Arrested
~
unbuckling her regulation holster
she lays it neatly
on the sest of her cycle

she removes the rest of her wespons
and places them on the ground

she is now unarmed
but she is still packin’

unzipping
she lets her regulation uniform trousers
slide in a nylon rustle
down her thigh high lace tops
to fall
gathered at her sculpted ankles

leaving her regulation leather heels on
she steps over her slacks
abandoned at her feet

she walks toward me slowly
hips pivoting left then right
taut thighs mesh silken

swish swish swish

placing one foot
in front of the other
striding with authority
heels sounding

click click click

she approaches
backlit by the red and blue pulses
of the BMW’s frenzied lightbar

she stops
straddling over me
as I am handcuffed
sitting on the highway
leaning agaist the door
of my Audi R8
popping and snapping
as the 610 hp’s cool

she unbottons her regulation jacket
and drops it at my side
she’s left only her regulation shirt on
as she unbuttons
it blouses open

her body badge is revealed
the gold glints fetchingly
as it dangles
on a thick leather cord
from around her smooth firm neck
resting nestled
in the perfect cleavage
of her pert young
braless breasts

these are tits
perfect tits
right out of a teen’s temptation
aglow in amber warning lights

her nipples
proudly erect
partially veiled
soft in the amber wash
gently rise and fall
with her heavy breathing

leaning over
fixing me with her fiery eyes
she speaks
“you were driving recklessly – sir”
then rips away her black string thong

helplessly
looking up
my eyes glide slowly
lustfully down her length
fondled warmly
by the flashing golden-orange
folding and refolding
upon her luscious flesh

they pause in gentle decent
entranced by the velvet mons
shorn smooth and oiled
sensuously shadowed
in the satin cleft
where supple limb
meets supple limb

intoxicated by this vision
I can only stare
swelling rigid with excitement
and swoon
breathless

utterly arrested
eager for interrogation

~ ~ ~