H awk moon hangs heavy
in the damp night sky
bulbous moist orb
punches
through a cold chromium fog
wet slivers of cloud
ooze themselves
across its face
breathing
it’s midnight
the sorrowing hour
laying bare your soul
in frail introspection
in grief of secrets
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse
Left on a
moonless night
caddy shine’n bright
wad’a dolla’s in my hand
visions of the promised land
ruined my caddy — didn’t win
lost more than a little skin
paint n’patience worn thin
tough times came in bunches
just kept roll’n with the punches
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse
if you liked this one above here — there’s much more below here
Chryselephantine velvet lady
jazz age beauty to mesmerize
sculpted by a master’s hand
so seductive as to scandalize
a stare of deep sable ebony
floats above a rich ruby pout
spellbound by her magic eyes
she holds your soul — no way out
tongue tip teasing tender lips
like a supple paintbrush flowing
her smile will pierce and hypnotize
then wrap around you knowing
~ Louise Brooks, flapper & dancer ~
she moves with a dancer’s gracefulness
captivating as the sweetest dream
then she burns hot as passion’s blaze
glorious exotica extreme
you are now her helpless captive
quite hopelessly addicted
in the velvet grip of her mystery
is she an angel — or is she wicked
~ Louise Brooks, silent films actress ~
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: Sunday Muse
Mary Louise Brooks
Music my Jazz B aby recommends !
“Helter Skelter” by: Lee Madgwick
Hey big red
what is your story
standing there
all alone
have you misplaced your ocean
or a mad fun house
*
rob kistner © 2022
More shadormas at: Word Craft Poetry
And there
the dory rests
askew
partly afloat
partly aground
pressed against the river grass
abandoned now for many years
it’s weather withered
dry rot’s setting in
it is said
he was seen returning
in the settling dusk
of an autumn twilight
that shortly thereafter
the window
on the second floor
under which
the river flows
went dark as pitch
in the years since
no one has ever
come for the dory
no light has ever
pierced that window’s blackness
no sound has ever
disturbed the deep silence
of that broken brick building
only the stir of the wind
is ever heard
rustling the tall tasseled reeds
that crowd the river’s edge
some say
if you listen quietly
it sounds like someone
sadly whispering
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
Although the sky hangs heavy
in a threatening deep slate grey
the small tan stone dove cote
with its charming six-windowed cupola
radiates a settled sense of centered calm
further enhanced by the glow
of the golden afternoon sun
bathing it in a gathered beam
breaking precipitously
through the cloud cover
like a soft directed spotlight
wind whistling ‘neath wings
white birds of peace
glide in graceful circles
just above the steep-pitched
four-pointed shingled roof
perched on the stately tall
invitingly open arched walls
a single dove coos serenely
resting in one of the small portals
that sit centered in each wall
above the generous archways
that open onto the rich green grass
of a gently rolling tree lined knoll
the overall visual impression
is one of simple enduring beauty
the feeling evoked is captivating
a bles’sed sense of the sacred
shadowed inside someone kneels
concealed in a lover’s prayer
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
~ from the master who wrote this true love song ~
The dream broke
like a prodigal sun
on a startled winter evening
causing him to squint
blinking away happiness
like sand in the eyes of love
you were there
the dismissive femme fatale
in this final edit
and there was also
a dupe
an easy mark
you took his cues
took his keys
took his shoes
you took your leave
and took his heart
you took him apart
you took him for a fool
it wasn’t you didn’t want him
you said
you simply saw yourself
in a different movie
with a different ending
one that saw you
leave the casino floor
quietly alone
through the garden
alive with the fragrance of roses
and the joys of the lilly
and you thought “I’d like, too,
to plant the sweet alyssum
that smells like honey
and peace”
and in this peaceful quiet
there would be
no long farewells
no broken hearts
at least
not yours
and the abandoned man
in the leather chair
had my face
had no expectations
made no demands
held you responsible
for nothing
nothing
you’d rolled the dice
knowing the bones was loaded
jackpot
you’d won
from the garden
you reentered
by the cashier’s windows
collected your winnings
just then
a night lark sang
and a silver tear
fell hard as steel
from my crystal’d cheek
which you collected in a sterling box
to toss into the sea
for you had no need for tears
no need
so you climbed the winding stairs
silk purse in hand
my heart in your pocket
to place it at midnight
on your balcony rail
to watch it wither in the moonlight
I had no need for it
now
nor did you
any longer
nor most certainly
did you
simply no need
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
My ever diminishing past
starkly mirrored in my heart
my weakness — insignificance
my isolation — I am so alone
I lived at the light’s edge
that pooled in the night
on the bleak back streets
of the sad brokenhearted
I hid in the anguish
of the loveless who cowered
in the dark forbidden alleys
of the lost and forgotten
this was my heartscape
black as mid-winter night
a chill lightless horizon
no glimmer of hope in sight
trusting for me was toxic
no visible foothold for love
relations had been carnage
scattered lifeless and empty
’til came you — beautiful being
eyes brilliant and so alive
afire in strength and confidence
attracted — I watched you approach
compelled by your powerful aura
I was inescapably drawn to you
to the depth of your essence
I now emerge from the shadows
here am I
vulnerable in surrender
putting aside my doubt
and my pain
open and unguarded
fully exposed
in this moment
I reach to you
it is your move
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: Sunday Muse
Does he think me a fool
that I would fall for his ploy
be drawn into his trap
his feeble transparent gambit
I will not
but I feel a longing
as I search for discovery
praying I have not
exposed my hand
but I embrace the moment
I believe I see his truth
his diabolical vision
it is offering me
just enough insight
that I combust
with strategy
I feel confident
I see the right move
to unlock my truth
to guide my path
while I’m held
transfixed
by this beautiful mystery
I feel elevated
by my insight
yes – yes
I see it
I see it clearly
my perfect move
I must make it carefully
because everything rides on this
why so intense
you wonder
this is not a matter
of life and death
you say
oh yes
my friend
you are so right
it is far more serious than that
David Maverick © 2007
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: Sunday Muse
Friday writings at: Poets & Storytellers
Still more poetry at: earthweal
Don’t criticize others if you are easily offended.
You’ll fail at every risk you don’t take.
The future is not tomorrow — it comes every second.
If you just can’t find an answer — the question may be the fault.
Even in darkness discoveries can be made — use more than just your eyes.
If you want to hear what others think — shut up!
There is no such thing as failure — only incomplete success.
If you keep tripping up — try going down.
The only thing certain is uncertainty.
You can’t outrun your history — nor your fate.
You may not always get what you want — often you get what you need.
Everything goes wrong — until it doesn’t.
The world may not be passing you by — you may be going backwards.
Bad deeds are like footprints — they follow you everywhere.
Easiest to ride the horse in the direction it’s going.
If you think you can’t — then you won’t.
Nothing beats working hard — except working smart.
The only thing that makes someone better than you is your thinking so.
Victory cannot be snatched from you — unless you let go your grip.
You will never finish last if you stay ahead of whose behind you.
If at first you don’t succeed — start at second the next time.
A better question than why — is why not?
If you follow your heart you will have a leader committed to you.
You can never go all the way — only as far as you went.
Love is letting someone be themself — not who you want them to be.
If you want to change something — do it differently.
You don’t know what to do, fine — but do something.
Falling for someone can never hurt — if they cushion your impact.
The person on top is simply the perch for the next one up.
Good intentions are never wrong — but some are certainly less right
You can’t be stopped if you just keep going.
One doesn’t need to know everything — just enough to appear to.
To win the race you need beat only one — whoever’s in 2nd place.
If you think you’ve been a fool, you are probably right
— and you’ll likely find someone who agrees with you.
The only real fool is the one who lived their life,
and hid their truth for fear of being called one.
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
https://youtu.be/4aqGjaFDTxQ
https://youtu.be/b5OIlK1g3yA
~ the magical Oregon coast ~
I can no longer imagine
the soft Oregon spring rain
misting the morning light
bringing life to winter earth
I can no longer imagine
the stir of a summer breeze
shimmering across the surface
of an Oregon high mountain lake
I can no longer imagine
the filtered morning sun
falling gently golden
through an Oregon ancient forest canopy
~ Oregon ancient forest ~
I can no longer imagine
the snow covered alpine majesty
of the beautiful Wallowa Mountains
towering above Oregon’s Columbia Plateau
I can no longer imagine
the spectacle of pronghorn antelopes
blazing at 65 miles per hour
across the Oregon high desert
I can no longer imagine
the power of the blue pacific
thumping the huge arch rocks
on the autumn Oregon coast
~ Oregon Pacific coastal arches cove ~
I can no longer imagine
the magnificence of an Oregon waterfall
roaring 620’ from the clouds above Columbia Gorge
thundering down into the mighty river below
I can no longer imagine
the breathtaking cerulean blue
of a lake crystal clear to a 1,949’ depth
in the crater of an extinct Oregon volcano
I can no longer imagine
the stunningly surreal natural colors
and deep captivating meditative quiet
of the Oregon fossil-rich painted hills
~ Oregon’s Crater Lake National Park ~
for I need not imagine
I have experienced
these wonders
alone
face to face
unhindered by the disturbance
or interruptions
of another
I am a deeply devout isolophilian
~ Oregon’s John Day Fossil Beds National Monument ~
these wondrous natural treasures
open my soul
attune me to the earth’s vibrations
they enrich me
they reinvigorate my orenda
strengthen my mindfulness
align my chi
fortify my positive essence
purify my karma
this blessed isolation
reopens my eyes
to the beauty of solitude
to the pure gratitude
for simply being
I again feel merak flow through me
I find
peace of mind
~ Oregon’s Multnomah Falls ~
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
To lift someone in need
to measure well in tolerance
to seek the components of peace
to create enduring possibility
to strive for truth
this is the real work
in the final sweep
‘round the face of time
this is what the soul eats
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
Sunlight falls dreamlike
through the woodland canopy
settling softly
around me
startlingly
a beautiful buck
bounds onto my path
standing proud
the golden sunbeams
work their magic
I’m mesmerized
he considers me briefly
then disappears
quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
L ooking into the branches
they are leafless, springtime bare
so I leap up and grab a tight hold
invigorated by the cool, fresh air
strong branches reach up skyward
gently stirring, rustling in the sun
on the breeze this whisper carries
“soon your time on earth is done”
I gaze upon the gnarled tree trunk
the tangled limbs of twisted wood
and in this moment of pure insight
realize that I’ve always understood
that life and death go hand in glove
and in this short time that we enjoy
embrace truth, peace, equal justice
strive to build better, not to destroy
into the darkness we must bring light
must bring hope, stifle hate and fear
contribute more to those who have less
make the world brighter by being here
~
Light of the world, shine on brightly,
shine until we all are free!
by: Platon Yurich
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: Sunday Muse
Friday writings at: Poets & Storytellers
Still more poetry at: earthweal
It is three weeks until Autumn Equinox 2022. I first wrote and published this piece in 2008, significantly revised it in 2018, sharing it again on dVerse in response to a wonderful prompt by Amaya Engleking. I now have further refined it in small ways, and choose to share it again here in 2022. Much has changed in the 14 years since I first wrote this, but not my love for the Pacific Northwest, and most especially — Oregon. It is in the light of this abiding love, that I now share this piece once more here on dVerse, for OLN, September 1st, 2022. Peace!
Autumn is upon us, as we enter our season of nature’s rest and replenishment here in the Pacific Northwest. The cycle of renewal will begin in western Oregon, where I lived for 25 years. I moved in 2015 to Seattle to be near my young grandson. Still immersed in Pacific Northwest beauty here, but Oregon will always hold my heart.
The summer’s dry period has ended, and agricultural irrigation has ceased. Harvesting explodes in October into November, including the grape harvest in our many vineyards. Following the gathering of this autumn bounty, the soil is left to recover. The fruit and nut trees, the vines in the vineyards, and the crop fields will begin the slow period of winter revitalization, in anticipation of the growing seasons to come in the new year. The Great Mandala of life turns steady. The rains that begin sporadically in late October, increasing into November, will work their magic — plumping Oregon’s world-class Christmas tree and holly crops, renewing the sparkle of these holiday icons, readying them for harvest.
Wild nature will also enter a period of recovery and renewal. The flowering plants that have dropped their petals, and the grasses and brush, gone late-summer golden, seek these nurturing rains. Mighty evergreens pause, conifers drop their cones, and deciduous trees shed their leaves all go dormant, and rest. The vast Northwest forests are enriched by this period of rejuvenation.
Streams, whose water levels have dropped considerably, will come to new life when rains begin to replenish their flow. Sockeye and Chinook salmon start their run upstream to begin their spawn. Rainbow, Brook, German Brown, and Cutthroat Trout, as well as numerous other species become active as waters rise and cool. Bear, deer, cougar, elk, coyote, big horn sheep, pronghorn antelope, hawk, osprey, eagle; the varied and plentiful wildlife of our region begin preparation for their unique winter rituals.
Autumn nudges into winter, a peaceful time of rest and restoration here in this breathtakingly beautiful region. A regenerative calm lies upon the lush land, as the season of sky-water arrives to quench nature’s thirst, and revivify her energies in this utopia.
Just as the gardener
nurtures her tend
bending close
to nourish
and protect
so too nature stoops
to embrace
and refresh
her pacific northwest paradise
her autumn shadow upon the land
she leans down
and lets flow life-giving waters
to enrich this lush realm
she covers her beloved eden
in a soft blanket
of moist cloud
a shelter from chilled winter
to insure a rich bounty
when spring returns
abundant fruits
vegetables
and nuts
hill-climbing vineyards
towering trees
too numerous to imagine
endless grasses
bushes
berries
and flowers
all will be spring succulent
from buildiing winter waters
mountain streams
valley rivers
swell with migrating fish
as they journey home
up these fresh waters
of new birth
birds and animals
flock and gather
embraced by this season
of quiet replenish
in balanced step
and close harmony
with this cycle
they too
will welcome next spring
with plentiful new life
a sustaining love
this affair
life
nurtured to flourish
in the eventual spring
*
published: rob kistner © 2008
revised: rob kistner © 2018
final revision: rob kistner © 2022
* More poetry at: dVerse