~
this heart’s now yours
this damaged heart
this brittle fractured aching heart
broken by you, every part
I’ve no use for this ruined heart
plucked here from my chest
I seek a new and vital heart
one that’s far less stressed
a fresh heart that’s unbreakable
a heart able to forgive
unmarred unscarred yet tender
beating with the joy to live
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2012
•
golden lady in sensuous silk
a beauty sure 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 fire and hypnotize
then wrap around you knowing
you are now her helpless captive
quite hopelessly addicted
in the velvet grip of this smoldering waif
is she an angel — or is she wicked
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
____________
image by Bert Stern
•
let us dare
sweet lust’s advance
to intertwine
in love’s enhance
I burn to offer
love’s special kiss
to fire your soul
in passion’s bliss
to enfold you deep
in nocturne’s hour
to taste the nectar
of your tender flower
you are the dream
that I adore
my one desire
to love you more
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
These are two poems about two powerful and indelible life-moments I shared with my son Justin.
The first “Night Sky” is about the courageous moment he chose, at age fourteen, to leave his mother’s home to move across our country, to live with me in Oregon — through the years of his high school and college graduations, and his early career. This was an incredible gift he gave me.
The second, “Book of Days”, is about the moment, two days ago, when he and his wife Christine, moved from Oregon to pursue a career advancement — a deeply bittersweet moment for me.
•
you arrived in spring
asking why I’d left
I had no good response
but the other shoe had fallen
with a deafening thud
so what was I to do
you looked startled by life
and asked me about sorrow
I had no good response
so I took you in
and watched as you untangled truth
marveling at your balance
for 19 years
together we watched the night sky
and wondered about love
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
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
•
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
•
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
•
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
when my forlorned
fallen face
is commonplace
when no one intrudes
to question
what’s the matter
because all around
are caught up in the blues
oh if only
you could find it
in your heart
to forgive
this sadly lost
and broken man
who much too late
understands
he was a fool
and in his sorrow
understands
why you refuse
but how I wish
ill-tempered weather
would ensue
to drive the joyful
all around me
to indoor spaces
so I’d be spared
the pain
of smiling faces
and the bitter
bitter memory
of losing you
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2011
______________________
How Poetry Comes to Me
by: Gary Snyder
It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
•
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
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
Skye Fyre
~
the grand sunset gun
hunter readies his grip
as the great golden orb
returns weary from his trip
quicksilver moon
embarks on her night’s course
hunter fixes sharp eyes
steady on the source
gaia reaches gently
into vast quiet space
diamonds of stars
gaia sparkles in place
hunter locks the horizon
solid in his sight
his important grand task
still remains on this night
to set the late sky ablaze
before he goes to sleep
in patterns most bold
in colors quite deep
he aims his sunset gun
and blasts overhead
a riot of corals
ambers oranges and red
with a grand brilliant flash
the heavens are afire
in rich vivid hues
burning hot with desire
this dusk color festival
has fully begun
so hunter retires
his job is well done
but he first locks away
his grand sunset gun
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 4/12/11
•
had not she 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
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
he wakes
unbidden by alarm
lingers in the darkness
warm neath the blankets
fumbling for the lamp
follows moments of procrastination
before he lifts himself upright
slides feet into slippers
to rise ever so stiffly
from the comfort of bed
pulling on his robe
he ambles to the kitchen
takes a cup from the shelf
pours chamomile tea
brewed ready each morning
by the wonders of technology
he retreats to his office
to his chair
where it waits
welcoming
in a pool of soft light
buffered against the chill
of pre-dawn dark
he sits
sips steeped motivation
quietly peeling away fog
that layers his mind
residue of another fitful night
he is somber
but pleased to be awake
to be alive
grateful for the peace
and the quiet of early morning
fleeting though it is
his thoughts
begin to un-blend
to gather
in a cohesive palette
stirring his notice
slowly they sort
in colors of mood
melancholy greys
fear’s dark ebony
purples of pain and anger
the violet of regret
sorrowful blues
gentle peaceful greens
golden joy
laughter’s bright amber
love’s ruby red
the scarlet of passion
this morning
reflections on his mortality
newly threatened
shoulder in coldly
crowding his reverie
pondering his plight
cursing fate
he struggles
neath the weight of uncertainty
a riot of emotions
overcome him
he seeks clarity
he reaches for his laptop
his tool of resolution
his canvass of language
in the spreading saffrons
and corals of dawn
he begins painting deep indigo
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
…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