Poetry – Page 4 – Image & Verse

Queen of Ice

This is a ballata. A lyrical pattered rhyme form — no prescribed meter — often sung.

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Ice Queen” by: rob kistner © 7/25/24

Bewitching queen of ice
she’ll wrap you in her arms
bestow her sensual charms
but it won’t happen twice
bewitching queen of ice

she’s feared in all the land
her tale told in lyrics grand
her love’s a lethal vice
bewitching queen of ice

fall to her ice-hot pout
your luck has just run out
you’ve rolled the deadly dice
bewitching queen of ice

even the wisest can’t resist
willpower ceases to exist
they pay the precious price
bewitching queen of ice

bent like a puppet to her will
your ruin’s her biggest thrill
the strongest turn meek as mice
bewitching queen of ice

and once she has your soul
her freeze will take its toll
you will be her sacrifice
the bewitching queen of ice

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Joy

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Wild Horses” by: rob kistner © 7/23/24

Chill winds of time
rise in dissonance

seasons of cold rain
hiss and tick
my weathered panes

life’s essence
slowly slips my grip

it’s warmth
ever-fading

the pall and ache
wraps firm my bones
suppresses my spirit
slowly steals my living core

I despair of rigid form
drained of vital sap

drawn and withered
robbed of flex and grace

my light of memory dims
my pool of knowledge clouds

dear and beloved go
one by one
beyond my call

beyond the enchanting joy
the wonderful chaos
of this temporal plane

like a herd
of beautiful wild horses
I see them gathered
powerful and proud

see them leap and dart
strong and agile

hear them gallop
bold and brave

then I realize
they’re galloping away

I hear them echoing
through a narrowing canyon

their sound
their energy
fades
falling to nothing

my energy wanes
a melancholy descends
I fall quiet

then I hear other echos

my family
busying about the house

the sounds of vibrant life
of precious love

then I realize
then I understand
life’s been good

I am blessed
we are blessed
and in that moment

gratitude

joy

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Into The Future

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Into The Future” by: rob kistner © 7/22/24

You cannot stop
the hands of time
from spinning ever on

when the sand is
through the hourglass
those days are ever gone

no reliving summers past
nor mistakes of society
they’re lost in history

there’s no wish
nor magic chant
not even wizardry

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Wizard”
by: rob kistner © 7/22/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Blue Torii

A Torii gate is a Japanese symbol of transition from the material world to the sacred.

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Blue Torii” by: rob kistner © 7/18/24

Blue torii passage
garden path winds to sunset
this day falls to calm
clouds are golden overhead
serenity is sacred

lacquer on gate beams
span faith’s possibility
fate’s demarkation
welcomes the blessed seekers
asking questions of the heart

small steps are not small
when they begin this journey
seeking is living
discovery is the gift
knowledge is the shining light

crossing here to peace
from chaos to the divine
the veil has opened
truth lies beyond blue torii
transcend to enlightenment

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Blue Torii 2”
by: rob kistner © 7/18/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Now for some unique musical entertainment…

THE WAGAKKI BAND

Always

In loving memory of my son, Aaron Robert Kistner

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “You Are Always” by: rob kistner © 11/2/23

I can still feel it
all of it

the anger
the perversity
the pain
the powerlessness
the anguish

the anger
that someone so young
so beautiful
could be taken
by another’s careless act

the perversity
of a son
passing before the father

my heart broken
bargaining with god
that you be returned to life
in exchange for mine

you were so alive
so wonderfully alive

thinking of you now son
of my favorite picture of you
it’s the one I treasure most

a simple snapshot
taken at the airport
upon your return
from New York City

having run their marathon

a gentle triumphant smile
obvious your eyes were beaming
behind your ‘cool’ shades

jacket sleeves rolled
so casually hip

your carry-on gripped firmly
steady in your left hand
your medal dangling proudly
from your strong neck

the gentle victor
fiercely handsome

taken just before
the finish line
of your 18 years
it said it all

your race was run
your bag packed
your reward in hand

though we did not know
you were ready to fly
my precious angel

I still feel it all
and I still feel you

in a tearful
turbulent night
you may come
as a breeze
stirring through my open window

a plaintive zephyr
yet sweet

you may come
as a faint sound in the darkness

an easy laugh
rich voice
a song

you may come as a sunrise
or a sunset

you may come
as a comforting thought

kindness
strength
gentleness

you may come
as a cherished presence

warm smile
clear eyes
peaceful eyes
full of wonder

the beauty of youth

you may come
as a moment recalled
a moment of the heart

that precious last time
we stood embracing
expressing our love
no way of knowing
it would be our last

I will feel that embrace
that warmth
forever

and now mostly you come as joy
the joy of who you were
and will always be
in my heart

*
rob kistner © 2023
updated rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: d’Verse

Poetry at:Whats’s Going On

I Am Red

Alma Thomas — ”Red Abstraction” 1959, 40” x 27-3/4” oil on canvas

I am red
blood on a broke piano
in a dead — drunk-bar
squaller’d in shambles
sheddin’ no’mo tears

I am red
the dark cadence
movin’ through the streets
in sad slow progression
carryin’ the dead

I am red
on a mardi gras mornin’
I come’a roarin’on up
in a bourbon st. stumble
play’n all the night

I am red
a wild tchoupitoulas
from the 13th ward
blood shiffa-hoona
I won’t be barred

I am red
a walk through fire
a swim through mud
stole feathers from an eagle
n’drank a panther’s blood

I am red
a gallery of corpse tears
hung bold in deep memory
for those who survived
to feel the departed’s sorrrow

I am red
the rattle of glasses
on shelves back ‘o d’bar
when the band’s riffin’ hard
on a packed Friday night

I am red
the madman
sometimes d’sideman
in d’dark beautiful chaos
and joy’s tearful sky

I am red
the tambourine’s jangle
in a sweet delicate hand
in a hard poundin’ bar
on a stage reekin’ o’weed

I am red
the music and anguish
pour’n into m’soul
‘til I’m only the both
so to wring your pain dry

I am red
playin’ mournful taps
f’truth’s mortal wound
where it’s fallen
bleedin’ out

are ya’ blind
do ya’ see
are ya’ deaf
do ya’ hear
are ya’ numb
do ya’ feel

I am jazz
I am blues
I am life
I am a lone angel cryin’
in a requiem funeral dirge

deep deep red

— all that fuckin’ music
playin’ out loud
play’d for all us dyin’
in earth’s terminal purge

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Tears Of An Angel”
by: rob kistner © 7/16/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Spectral Emotions

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Spectral Emotions” by: rob kistner © 7/15/24

He awakens in darkness, warm beneath the blankets. Fumbling for the lamp, he struggles upright. Sliding into slippers, he rises, ever so stiffly. Every day unfurls as it must, he muses.

Pulling on his robe he ambles to the kitchen, takes a cup from the shelf, pours chamomile tea. He retreats to his office, to his chair, welcomingly lit against the chill predawn darkness.

He sits, sips steeped motivation, quietly peeling away the fog of another fitful night. Grateful for the peace of early morning, he begins to un-blend his thoughts into a color palette of mood.

Melancholy greys, fear’s ebony, purples of anger, sorrowful blues, peaceful greens, laughter’s ambers, golden joy, love’s ruby red — but the colors spill, puddling in chaos. He reaches for his laptop, his canvass of clarity. In the spreading saffrons and corals of dawn, he begins sorting spectral emotions.

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Hearthaw

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Hearthaw” by: rob kistner © 7/11/24

I lived at the lightless edge
that pooled in the night
deep in the bleak backwoods
of the sad brokenhearted
hiding in the anguish
of the loveless who despair
in the dark serpent’s shadow
lost in frightful nightmare

I fed on the grief
of the forlorn who wailed
for their horrific loss
in the ruins of misery
this was my heartscape
black as mid-winter night
a deep shadowed horizon
no glimmer of light

trusting was toxic
no foothold for love
relations were carnage
scattered lifeless and cold
’til you, beautiful being
eyes brilliant and true
approached from afar
eyes of hypnotic blue

a most molten magic
you deftly ignited
and patiently tended
the flames gently stoked
still afraid to come forward
I held outside the fire
but your kindness drew me
kindling love’s smoldered desire

with passion it roared
its flare pierced my darkness
its heat torched my soul
my ice heart was thawed
you‘ve captured me wholly
in a spell mesmerizing
my heart’s soaring weightless
this dawn of love rising

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Heartrise” by: rob kistner © 7/11/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers.

Radical Possibility

“Some days I can set myself adrift in space. In time.”
“Find me a space here, tucked into the silence.”

Two poignant lines from the poet, Saran Conner, honored this day at dVerse Poets.

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Radical Possibility” by: rob kistner © 7/9/24

We exist
in a fragile sphere
of suppressed possibility
gripped in the freeze
of a dark time

midst those who’ve waited
and watched
at the waning of truth
‘neath an uncertain moon

not hearing
what we knew to be
the plaintive cries
of the lost

our echoed cries

blind to the light
of the dawning
that heralded new words
dual words
for a possible world

two new words
for this time that’s upon us
this time of diametrical opposition
where reality and constructionism
collide

Radical Possibility

we are the bud and the blossom
we are the late-falling leaf
we are the arc fulfilled
we are the time come

come to the here
and the now

where we’re held
firm in the fire
of visions and longing
for what we were

and for all
that we are to be
here in our heart
at this moment eternal

even as
we gaze forlornly
across pooled hatred
through a divided curtain’s fall
at a fractured mirror’s reflection

a glaring hallucination
of a polarized reality

dual worlds
close enough to touch
but too far apart to engage

dual worlds
through which truth
stumbles blind

beyond reach
or reason

no connection ’tween either

we walk as wraiths
through fevered empty streets
moving in these dual worlds

captive
to the bone-white lies
of both

mumbled
in the low voice
of dark deceit
implied in their toxic grins
of inflexible propaganda
and impossible compromise

but hold fast

beckon the unfolding dawn
summon the emerging morn
herald the inevitable sunrise

there is far to go
and much to learn
rising from this dark night

but someone needs first
release the light

hold fast
torchbearers emerge
who hold sacred
the litmus of the ages

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Torchbearer”
by: rob kistner © 7/9/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

Mystic Blues

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “Contemplation” by: rob kistner © 7/6/24

Three years shy o’80
triumphs and tragedies my truths
hard hustled my way survivin’
leveraging my soul wrestlin’ the blues

once crab slow — time’s a’racin’
carvin’ deeper into my face
sittin’ writin’ verse in contemplation
was this cost worth stayin’ in this race

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

~ So damned thrilled goddess “Lady Blue” is still with us! ~
…unless you’ve died, get some tissue ready…

That Moment

That night
that moment
that image
will never dim

emblazoned into my heart

the soft flickering pulse
of distant lightning
above the willows
of our quiet street

my eyes following
your graceful silhouette

backlit

moving away from me
into the falling rain

the taste of you
so sweet on my lips

if you are lucky
you will carry one night
with you

my gaze held fast
until there was nothing
just your blurring image
fading
into the chill downpour

the sweet memory
of that night’s
vital passion
warmed me
as did the promise
there would be others

but no warning

if you are lucky
you will carry one night
with you

no warning
of the bitter cold
that would set upon my world

no warning
that distant image
would burn forever
in my longing heart

no warning
that taste of you
sweet on my lips
would be my last

if you are lucky
you will carry one night
one precious night
with you

White Shoes

Artwork, lyrical prose, and haiku created and written for my beautiful daughter
Jennifer Sunshine Kistner

T his child gazes wonderingly out of her open bedroom window. This warm Spring night in May she has captured the Flower Moon, bloomed full. This night they hold in share dreams of the future, the near and the far. Colorful pails on the ocean’s beach, festooned in starfish and octopus. The sweet taste of jam on buttered crustless bread, only a little smudged on smiling cheeks.

Lipstick smeared on a giddy grin. Tea and cookies with bear, bunny, mrs. whiskers — and daddy. There will be crayons, play-doh, soccer balls — many soccer balls, skinned knees (occasional bloodied lips), and confusion about stupid boys. There will be hair curls, and muddy hands. What a joy she will know, lost in the world of pretend.

Then the further strum of imagination, that brings song to the burgeoning young heart. The rhythm of spirit that brings the thrill of dance to young feet, that elevates the courage of youth, that will help drive away the awkwardness, fear and sadness.

An all-night campfire shared with friends beneath a canopy of forever stars. Boat rides with grandpa. Rides and sing alongs with her brothers in dad’s Karmann Ghia. More questions about boys — this time different questions. Questions about her body, about tomorrow, as the hands of time carry her dreams into the challenges of the future, toward the doors opening on wonderful possibility.

Now here today, this moon child has captured life, a full life, growing everyday — year after year. Success is now hers to hold, and love, always love. I love you my sunshine daughter! You are my sunshine! You will always be my sunshine. You will always be my white shoes!

So here on the occasion of your 52nd birthday — know you are loved. May you always find great joy, may you always find genuine fulfillment. May you always find the opening, may you always find the net! I love you with all my heart Jeni … Happy Birthday!

night moon’s miracle
holds eternity’s promise
brings sweet tomorrows

Love, Dad

Summer Rain

May winds whisper, to rumor summer’s arrival
in time to insure my frail humor’s survival

winter’s rains held firm and quite long this year
but stubborn skies at last begin to clear

gentle summer rains come soft bending to embrace
companion summer sun reaches warmly to touch my face

the seasons bow for this brief interlude
as if to hail my brightened attitude

seeds push eager sprouts through warm fertile earth
life giving rain cycles to this time of birth

apple blossoms pop boldly forth through ripened limb
rain-fresh waters push streams near full their brim

bird songs sparkle crisp through greening trees
fragrance of new bloom wafts softly in stirring breeze

all ’round summer leans in for boisterous spring
in the quiet sweetness, my heart begins to sing

Poetry at:Whats’s Going On

Leaving Home

Turning to leave
she covers the distance
to the door
in a few sorrowful strides

she looks back
fixes her gaze
should she say something more

in that fading moment
nothing is said
no need

she lowers her eyes
turns her head
steps through the door
into the chill night rain

and is gone

Poetry at:Whats’s Going On

So Coral

~ BE WARNED – the colors of hot animal passion ahead ~

Paint me coral
like a snake
darling
I’ll slither lovingly
just for you

or panda red
my sweet
we’ll cuddle
all night through

if you’ll be gentle
my lover
butterfly my cheeks
tart tangerine

paint my fantasies
flamingo rose
paint my sultry dreams
serene

paint me
with soft brushes
like wings of a dove

paint me
with mink brushes
of hot impassioned love

stroke’em sensually eager
‘cross my glistening skin

and if I swoon softly
paint me once again

paint me
like a peacock
with iridescent lust

then accent all my edges
with lion-golden dust

paint my beating heart
a carnal tamarin gold
paint me like a secret
with brushstrokes brazen bold

titillate me tiger
with your special
sable brush

paint me dappled
like a cheetah
make my animal blood rush

paint me wolfen-eyed wilding
paint me mountain lion hush

paint me leopardly languid
and leisurely lush

paint my skin a steamy smolder
just let it all flow fully

paint me lil’rough
like a bear
I like a bit’a bully

or fingerpaint me
in a frenzy
mind spinning
cannot think

paint me pearled as an oyster
or paint me slippery salmon pink

now — should you run out of brushes
and exhaust your fingertips
paint me deep with gentle kisses
the final strokes
your coral lips

Poetry/prose at: Moonwashed Musings