Fret Not

…written for Day #30, NaPoMo 2011…

 

Fret Not

•

people are consumed
by endings
speak of their finality
their permanence
their absoluteness

but I say no

in this age of recycling
repurposing
sequels
syndication
spin-offs
botox
rogaine
viagra
endings are not absolute

eventually inevitable
but in that
they are not so special
not unique

beginnings

these are unique
these are absolute
they only happen once
they are not inevitable
not guaranteed

they require a complex
independent
set of variables
to come together
perfectly timed
properly executed

and in that
they are singular
very very special

so let us not fret
nor dwell
nor waste emotion upon
something so commonplace
as endings

instead

let us seek
let us anticipate
let us celebrate
beginnings

these amazing culminations
of elusive possibilities

they are so full
of promise
of potential
of mystery

so worth our wonder

• • •

rob kistner © 4/30/11

Unfazed

This poem was sparked by the incredible power of our earth, as exhibited most recently by the devastating tornadoes that swept through the American Southeast, and with deep reverence and sympathy for those who suffered as a result. I admire greatly your courage and will to live.

…written for Day #29, NaPoMo 2011…


 

Unfazed

•

we live
by its grace
at its mercy
with delusions of mastery

so close to extinction
grappling awestruck
day-in day-out détente
survival in spite

brute power
incredible beauty
this tolerant
indifferent planet

perhaps the imminence of peril
embellishes our wonder
ignites our superstitions
kindles our will to live

but our light will blink out
this orb will evolve
shine on
unfazed

• • •

rob kistner © 4/29/11

Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

“One of my former band members, who was with me in the band in the 1960’s, that inspired this poem from 2011, came to visit me a couple months ago. I had written a haibun at the time in his honor, which I shared here on dVerse. That haibun was inspired by this original poem. I just learned that he died Monday in Geneva, Switzerland. In his memory I am sharing this original poem today, August 22, 2019.”

…originally written for Day #19, NaPoWriMo 2011…



 
Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

~

our final set was 3:00 am
the gear’s broke down and stowed
now here we sit
with smuggled single malt
and the crusty sunrise special

me and my bles-sed band
bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
mixin’ with fellow players
who’ve now
laid down their last licks
for this night

among willing groupies
the loud hangers on
and my sad friend Joey
just back from Viet Nam

we’re sittin’ and chattin’
with the steel-heart working girls
and sweet soul-bruised painted strippers
they love us ‘cause we’re brothers
in this family of the night

all in the flesh parade
of burnt drink slingers
and tired cocktail mules

hipsters grifters drifters
and slick gamblers
from behind the sealed doors
of those private upstairs rooms

swell perfumed boys
and sisters of the leather
queens and trannies
pimps pushers and the cops

huddled stark as morgue mates
hidin’ from those cruel first rays
like a pack of squandered vampires

ready to scurry off
to well-curtained rooms
or other dark holes of despair

it’s time to make that final score
whatever gets you through
‘till sundown strikes up the band again

I’ll tell ya
ain’t this show biz grand
it’s cirque du morning madness
all sneakin’ up on breakfast

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 4/19/11

____________________________

This photo below put me in mind of the 60’s when my band played the all-night R&B clubs in Newport Ky — the ‘wild’ night-world just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati. It sparked this poem.

…originally linked at Magpie Tales

 

  • Click below to read other poems at dVerse:

    Open Link Night #249

  • Time Traveling

    …written for Day #16, NaPoMo 2011…


    Time Traveling

    •

    tonight
    careful hands
    peel back cracked
    and yellowed protectant
    from dark and aging pages

    soured
    in long-ignored
    dusty albums

    my wife is liberating memories
    life moments
    immortalized

    faces and places
    call from another time

    a beautiful young bride
    a proud new husband

    our sweet children
    living
    and not

    family and friends
    here and gone

    other visuals
    strangely vague
    yet hauntingly familiar
    draw me
    spark warm recall

    remembered laughter
    tears gratefully less bitter

    captured images
    collect on our coffee table

    so too
    do insistent emotions
    cascading one by one
    and all together

    time
    the grand thief

    who would steal
    the treasures of our heart
    who would hold hostage
    the moments of our journey

    beautifully arrested

    deeply moved
    tears well and glisten
    stirred by heartfelt gratitude
    for this proof of life

    proof
    of love

    • • •

    rob kistner © 4.16.11

    Burst

    …written for Day #13, NaPoMo 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

    …written for Day #12, NaPoMo 2011…

     

    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

    Ergo

    …written for Day #11, NaPoMo 2011…


     

    Ergo

    •

    we are infinite beings
    awaking slowly
    from some infinite place

    our coming to be
    unknown to us
    as any mystery

    learned in stories
    in waiting relationships
    gradually
    we open to our identity

    our essence
    an enigma

    awareness dawns
    like the rising
    of a newborn sun

    we feel its warmth
    and flow effortlessly
    into timelessness

    we are as though
    immortal

    we see not over the horizon
    because we see no horizon

    we comprehend no end
    immersed only
    in our beginning

    it is therein exists
    the miracle of life

    our infinity

    we are infinite beings
    in this moment
    dreaming
    to sustain the moment

    • • •

    rob kistner © 4.11.11

    Had Not

    …written for Day #9, NaPoMo 2011…


    Had Not

    •

    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

    Deep Indigo

    …written for Day #7, NaPoMo 2011…


    Deep Indigo

    •

    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

    Shuffle

    …written for Day #6, NaPoMo 2011…


     

    Shuffle

    •

    life deals the cards
    face down
    from a deck
    stacked full with jokers

    rare
    the precious wild card

    the game plays out
    slowly
    turning each card
    hand at risk

    wild card
    strikes a jackpot
    play continues

    but the jester
    hand is bust
    player folds

    not until
    the hand is forfeit
    or the final card
    face up
    is it known
    what fate has dealt

    • • •

    rob kistner © 4/6/11

    Lucid 5:00 AM

    …written for Day #1, NaPoMo 2011…


    Lucid 5:00 AM

    •

    at pre-dawn five am — I see…

    all my faults and failures
    the importance of forgiveness

    precisely why I love my wife
    the perfect way to let her know

    the miracle of my children
    how to be a better father

    the power of friendship
    the value in being true

    how blessed I truly am
    the insignificance of my problems

    the wisdom of patience
    why it should be embraced

    the beauty of the world
    the essence of it’s magic

    the meaning of life
    the foolishness of wasting it

    …then the rising sun
    obscures my clear vision

    again I stumble — blindly

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    Ship of Dreams

    …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

    ________________________

    …below is a sample of the fantasy art of James C. Christensen

    Limitless

    …limitless talent, unfathomable spirit…

    Limitless

    •

    • written for Writer’s Island

    La Nature du Feu


    …per this week’s prompt at Big Tent Poetry, this is a gentle rewrite of a poem of mine
    originally published in the 2010 RWP Anthology




     

    La Nature du Feu
    The Nature of Fire

    A Poem Using Three Lines from Norman Dubie’s “Of Politics & Art”

    (the borrowed lines are italicized)

    •

    here
    on the farthest point of the peninsula

    an office building is burning
    ignited by a single match
    careless or criminal
    not yet known

    inconceivable
    that such a structure
    can be so wholly engulfed
    but the fire was too fierce
    and the distance too great
    for rescue

    but what of the fury
    in that single first flame
    to have leapt so viciously to consume
    to ravage
    to devastate so absolutely

    it is always there
    la nature du feu

    like the rage of a repressed
    and violated being
    too long held down
    unjustly deprived
    confined

    all potential denied
    where there is great potential

    spirit squelched
    where there is great spirit

    sometimes a whole civilization can be dying
    until finally a single incident
    the spark
    unleashes a righteous inferno
    that has no bounds

    it is always there
    la nature du feu

    all around the good people gather
    stare in disbelief
    how is this possible here
    not realizing that such power to combust
    to blaze so brilliantly
    can only be suppressed for so long

    it is always there
    la nature du feu

    ready to explode
    like the fury in the head of that match
    and when the smoulder becomes full flame
    all will burn
    out here on the peninsula
    and in here
    at the still and protected center

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    …visit Big Tent Poetry