Category: Poetry

P ermit me to share the legend
of the man who rocked the world
luminescent — larger than life
his bold flag of fame unfurled

I was his grateful roadie
he treated me like a brother
the world lost a good one
he was truly like no other

with confidence he stood the stage
flashed his skills with grace and power
his celebrity rocketed skyward
enormous talent, in his finest hour

a humble hard-luck childhood
helped hone his heartfelt dream
a bright young man with wicked “chops”
he could make his guitars scream

his glory spread round the globe
renown and fortune grew unbound
like a rampant roaring wildfire
nothing it seemed would take him down

but terror struck while touring England
unleashing madness, fear, and strife
bombs tore through the concert hall
to save his fans, he risked his life

the first blast ripped the back wall
mike in hand, he stood cool and ready
“please people — don’t run in panic
move quickly — but please move steady”

he stood directing fans to safety
they all escaped — now he was last
as people gathered outside the hall
came the deaf’ning final blast

it was horror in high definition
TV broadcast the heartbreaking sight
a question hung heavy midst the chaos
did their hero meet death tonight

the sad truth was the top news story
the brave mega-star had died
all the world was seen to mourn
at candle vigils his fanbase cried

so permit me to share this legend
of this remarkably brave young man
who — possessed of wealth and fame
truly never forgot the fan

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

P hineas Morton is not a happy guy
that’s not to say he’s sad
he just decided long ago
not to live life on the extremes
so he would describe himself as
well
as centered
Phineas Morton is a centered guy

I’m Mortimore Magee
his best friend
and frequent visitor

Phineas lives
in the abandoned hull
of an old
yellow
school bus
which he’s fixed up to be
”just fine”
he assures
”lotta make-do, bit’a magic”

he was left there
by his parents
when he was 12
as they went off to find

well
“to find happiness”
he bemoans

this situation may also account
for his less than enthusiastic embrace
of the whole concept of happiness

Phineas dreams of
someday doing something
well
”something interesting”

shunning the extreme nature
of great
he is not really interested
in doing something great
interesting will do just fine

Phineas has a girlfriend
well
“sort of a girlfriend”
he says
“more like a girl acquaintance
sounds less all in”
he explains
which suits his centeredness
just fine

her name is Flo
Flo Humpledorf
though she has come to spell it
P-h-l-o
as an expression
of her affinity for Phineas
you know
Phineas and Phlo

well anyway
Phineas wants everyone to know
that while he waits
for his interesting life to begin
he can be found
”out by ole’ Doc Patterson’s pond”
in his shell of a bus

“you’re more than welcome to come by”
he says

just between you and me
if you do
don’t act too happy
if you know what I mean
it doesn’t sit well with the lad

also
if you decide to come by
bring some jelly beans
red jelly beans

why

because I love red jelly beans
and I really am there
a lot!

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/bl9bvuAV-Ao

Y esterday is the tear shed
the breath exhaled
the word spoken
the harvest in

today is the voice singing
the raindrops falling
the river flowing
a hand sowing

tomorrow is the unfolding dream
the gold dawn approaching
a new hope’s promise
the planted seed

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

C arefully I walk this edge
balancing eternally between
my sacred nurturing soul
and my burning hearts’s needs

know I will not be confined
staying always in motion
an eternal ebb and flow
perpetual like the seas

my spirit is amorphous
bathed in the rays of change
expanding unrestrained
seeking purpose and freedom

I will not be defined
my nature is fluid
my essence is turbulent
deep and ever changing

my heart in constant surge
ignores the prevailing winds
seeking balance that is mine
to change at need — at will

you need not seek me
for I am always here
but do not name me
I will not be yours

*
rob kistner © 2021

and yet

the stuff I have
I must ignore
to have the time
to find some more

to stash
what it is I got
so there’ll be nothing
I have not

and when I have
all that there is
I’ll sit back
and say

gee wiz

I’m not certain
this is all
there is

limited space
no way
no way
I can fit more in
today

I may be nuts
or maybe not
but gotta have more
than what I got

I’m on the verge
of losing it
but I believe
more will fit

we’re near full
for sure
for sure
but I can still
fit a bit more

I can always
fit a bit more

though what I have
is gathering dust
and some perhaps
is gathering rust
though the walls
are ‘bout to bust
I’ll stuff in more
because
I must

I simply
must

Poetry at: dVerse

april’s wine is intoxicating
as winter’s pale heart yearns
to feel spring’s grand unfolding
as nature’s palette slowly turns

this sweet inebriation
of april’s longing soul
can bring forth act’s impulsive
and draw one to the jester’s role

so be wary – for when one’s
caught in this season’s swoon
the better judgements of january
dissolve under april’s moon

the elixir of a world in bloom
is to the lusting lovelorn
a most dangerous of potions
risky randy thoughts are born

so remember and be warned
under passion’s frenzied rule
april can easily make one
act quite the splendid fool

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

https://youtu.be/-GdJ_HOjtew

unfortunately
I’ve again awakened

another hard night
now
another shit day

I rise
make my way carefully
moving head down
shufflin’ to the bathroom
to wash my face

it’s reflected sallow
in the yellowed wash
of feeble incandescence

strange tired eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my spirit

eyes of knowing
eyes of disappoint
eyes of sadness

the look burns through me
weighing upon my being

I want to scream
but no one’s here to hear me
in this cluttered two-room flat

morning maintenance done
I grab a cold bagel
gather up my stuff
trudge out the front door
down the rickety wood stairs
into the oblivious streets
that echo my strangled dreams

I duck and dodge
in and out
of early morning shadows
past the garbage and graffiti
of these dirty bricken’d canyons

they vibrate with the rush and chaos
of synapse and sinew
the hum of networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
can — beyond the reach of — should

monoliths of human avarice
cold and indifferent
clad in stainless
stone
and such

a halogen and neon blaze
they surge with manipulation
and greed

in varying shape and differing size
they flank in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
blink and beep and ring
they buzz and hiss
and stink

thoughts flood in a torrent
souring my head

I’m now rushing
unseeing
seething with anger
and exasperation
when suddenly
I stumble

a crack in the sidewalk
this fuckin’ city!

then I look down
startled

what the hell
a flower
really
no shit!

in that moment
flabbergasted
I unspring my tension

exhaling
I pause

I’ll be damned
caught in a flash
of wonder
I muse

maybe

maybe dreams
actually do survive
somewhere

in this concrete hell-hole

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

This is Seussian Tetrameter…

I am gone this I’m sure
and I doubt there’s a cure
is this joy is this bliss
was that simply a kiss

will I wake I can’t tell
I am under your spell
is this all what it seems
am I lost in my dreams

if it’s true then it’s fine
these sweet dreams are divine
here’s a wish I now make
hope I never awake
 

*

rob kistner © 2010

More tetrameter poetry at: dVerse

Open Link Night at: dVerse

~ A live bonus from Brandi! ~

while her heart she emotes
it’s her soul she reveals
she brings tears to my eyes
while my logic she steels

speaking truth she stirs hope
shattered dreams so to heal
and she gives of her self
her love rolls like a wheel

she is grit she is style
she is humble and real
she is Brandi Carlile
and she lives her ideals

 

Hanseroth twins: key to Brandi’s sound & success.
 

3.) A fully original poem inspired by Li bai’s “Crows Calling at Night”
 

A Crystal Tear

 
Sun-gold clouds fade in dimming cerulean
a lone raven’s black eyes stare steadily
loudly cawing, he effortlessly alights
perched in the striking autumn yellow
of the ginkgo’s lovely fanned petals

a lonely woman works in deft rhythm
rich silk gleams taut in her drawloom
she carefully raises the brocade patterns
learned as a child in her Shanxi province
sure hands pull the fine emerald threads

prayer on her lips — she stares far off
a closed window holds fast her whispers
sadly she falls quiet — pauses the shuttle
thinking longingly of her distant lover
wondering — will their lips again touch

she sits alone — unmoving — head turned
a crystal tear falls like a first rain drop

More poetry at: dVerse

his stern face
stern smile
stern voice
stern eyes
hypnotic wink
fired lips
burning kiss

cast her vulnerable

she adores the touch
of his strong stern hands
warm sure hands

so too
she loves his cane

 
rob kistner © 2010

More poetry at: dVerse

on this black velvet night
my brilliance shines
like crazy diamonds

hidden thoughts
soar untethered
ignited
to shine on brightly
illuminating the darkling
mysteries of time

I am the time master
I fold reality

rob kistner © 2010

More poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Day 16 poetry at: NaPoWriMo 2021