•
you do not see
me
no shadow do I cast
that you perceive
no movement
to catch your eye
no color
no shape
no texture that is truly mine
you see
the avatar of your fantasy
the puppet of your desires
the specter of your lust
to you
I
am invisible
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
___________________________
…image found here…
“Went digging through some of my older poetry to find this piece I wrote 9 years ago, March 2010. I remember being inspired to write it watching Hermione’s love potion scene in ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Price.’ I had just purchased the DVD at the time. My grandson was watching the DVD last night, which put me in mind of this poem. Wanted to share it here for dVerse OLN #252. It contains very minimal revision and a slight upgrade in graphic embellishment”
no precious warmth
will manifest
from something hard and cold
a love that’s locked
and set in cast
can never be set free
there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy
you cannot stop
the hands of time
from spinning ever on
when the sand
is through the hourglass
those days are ever gone
you cannot bring summer back
when the leaves
are off the tree
there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy
rob kistner © 2010
revision © 2019
•
a tear can cloud the brightest day
song will brush aside the clouds
is not sadness just a passing state
but what a melody can chase away
a tune played true with voice in tow
little sorrows flee from such display
thing is, so few will dare seek joy
and thus succumb to feeling low
yet when life is lived in harmony
what hurt you have will drift and fade
joy in chorus will lift the heart
it swells the soul in reverie
is it not foolish to keep bliss entombed
to see not but the dark and gloom
sing — and laughter will light the room
a song is but a little thing
and yet what joy it is to sing
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
possessed of all it is I am
I breath a sigh of longing
and wish for what it is I’m not
across the bridge of auras
I covet not a kingly right
nor scepter gold to rule a realm
I seek to fill my barren soul
across the bridge of auras
worldly wealth is not my goal
nor power over minions
enlightenment is what I seek
across the bridge of auras
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
___________________________
• you can find more aura’s at One Single Impression
•
the garment of demands
in which we’re dressed when we are young
is often awkward and ill-fitting
but the self-tailored cloak of expectation
we put on when we are grown
is far more difficult to wear
• • •
•
permit me to share the legend
of the man who rocked the world
luminescent — larger than life
his banner of fame unfurled
he confidently took each stage
flashed his skills with pride and power
his celebrity rocketed skyward
enormous talent, in his finest hour
a humble tempering childhood
helped him hone his mythic dream
a bright young man with wicked ‘chops’
he could make his guitars scream
his fame continued to grow
so too the demands upon his time
more nights, more travel, more concerts
but for his fans, he didn’t mind
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 Europe
unleashing panic, fear & strife
bombs tore through the concert hall
to save his fans — he risk his life
the first blast ripped the back wall
mike in hand, he stood firm and fast
directing the people to safety
they all escaped — now he was last
it was horror in high definition
TV broadcast the heartbreaking sight
a question hung heavy over 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 the people 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
poems and collage by: rob kistner © 2010
•
this night charles is a traveler
adrift in the mists of time
in a rough-hewn dory of his mortality
curiosity is his poleman
overcome by insecurity
charles has abandoned his reality
to sail beyond the mystery
drawn to the light of clarity
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
_____________________
…this is a poem about the horror and ethical dilemma that is war, and the devastating impact it has on many soldiers…
crisp red from the scalding sun
from devastation’s fires
from cruel vision of relentless horror
scorched by vicious exposure of sentenced gaze
take refuge in this heavy late evening dew
thick with munitions soot
settling like a shroud
lubricious
opaque
obscuring
I am sustained by this damp cool pall
that descends upon me
wraps ‘round my pained countenance
fevered with fatigue
deafened by weapon’s roar
crippled with despair
driven by faint memory of honor
of duty
of human dignity
I stumble
broken by this sin I shoulder
this perversion
not of my making
but of my charge
my sin
conceived and unleashed
by those who would impose their will
their twisted utopian vision
who would advance their agenda of domination
those who would take it all
wear the conqueror’s crown
who would rule the world
a world now broken
corrupted by their vision
spoiled by their vanity
a world in chaos
I have but this bloodied ruin-riddled highway
of deepening nocturne
of dying dreams
crushed innocence
destruction
death
decay
of my duplicity
of my guilt
my shame
fear not for the future
weep not for the past
…impossible
and so I stumble on
muttering mea culpa
saturated with this falling evening
with this drenching sorrow
slinking in exhausted alert
nerves shattered as eggshells
numb to panic
hollow
empty
into this coming night
and the next night
and the night that follows
that always follows
captive on this road of murder
of mounting evil
of brutal human arrogance
prisoner of this lost highway
seeking forgiveness
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•> click HERE to read The Failure of Architecture, a poem I wrote about the ethical dilemma of the corporate world <•
…this is a poem about the dehumanizing impact of the cubicle’d corporate world, and the often questionable ethics that pervade it…
they rise gargantuan
icons of the clever human
they vibrate
with the chaos of mixed agenda
they hum with networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
‘we can’ beyond the reach of ‘should we’
bedecked in stainless
glass
and stone
ablaze in halogen and neon
strewn here and there with art
their essence remains sterile
their foundation is profit
their cornerstone often cupidity
in varying shape and differing size
swollen with the buzz
rustle
and clatter
of corporate cacophony
they flank in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
ensnared in the honk
screech
and roar
of gridlocked anguish
soaring above the drone and glare
and the dirge of dying dignity
these pretentious monoliths can intimidate
emotionally eviscerate
creatively castrate
spiritually suffocate
stagger and stun
a cold calculated majesty
ultimately — this architecture fails
for it does not move the soul
that seeks the folded petal’s mystery
that marvels
at the smallness of a sprouting frond
the beauty of a burled oak
the magic of a budding branch
at the glory of a redwood’s rise
it does not lift the spirit
soothed by a morning breeze
whispered in autumn aspens
or stirred by a loon’s lament
over the still water of a dusk lake
or thrilled by the song of birds
the mighty swoop of a redtail hawk
or captivated by a coyote’s midnight call
it cannot touch the heart
that needs to see a salmon’s trek
the dolphin’s arc in an open sky
the roll of unobstructed clouds
or a fall of stars
it offers nothing to the dreamer
who needs to hear the crack of thunder
resound for miles across the plain
then off the mountain’s face again
yes…
this architecture fails the human core
that needs the fresh embrace of rain
the crisp and quiet drift of snow
the hues and sway of living fields
it leaves the spirit cold
that needs to watch the orchards bloom to fruit
see forests thick beyond horizons
or feel the lift of cresting surf
no…
there are no human constructs
that satisfy this need to know true splendors
evolving natural wonders
wonders that inspire
resonate the heart
that liberate the soul
to leave one…
…transcendent
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
…this edited rewrite, of a poem I wrote in 2007, was inspired by a prompt at sunday scribblings…
NaPoMo poem #29
This is the twenty ninth and the penultimate of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This poem is a tongue-in-cheek, but well intentioned look at life’s many gifts, inspired by prompt #29 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
So Many Gifts
•
we were granted
many gifts
when we arrived
here in this life
perhaps the most precious
is the gift of family
to endure
the gift of family
and any other calamity
we were bestowed
the gift of courage
the gift of patience
is a part of this
now when we require
more reinforcement
we have the useful
gift of friends
should all these gifts
prove just too much
there is the gift
of nature’s beauty
if we overdose
on all things tranquil
the fallback gift
is our creative spark
to prevent this gift
from being wasted
we have literature
music and art
and to preserve
dark karmic balance
we’ve been blessed
with the critique clique
finally we come
to this the greatest
of all the gifts
that we possess
and that gift being
the gift of love
though we enjoy
all of these gifts
life still can be
quite tough at times
but don’t despair
no
don’t lose hope
some secret gifts
have we been granted
to give us strength
and keep us going
the first of these
our sense of wonder
and hand in hand
our sense of awe
and should all else falter
there is the failsafe
the secret weapon
our sense of humor
but please take heed
keep careful watch
if you lose this latter
my friend
you’re screwed
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem-set #28
This is the twenty eighth day of poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This set of seven haiku were inspired by the read write poem NaPoWriMo prompt #28, “Seeing Red”.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Seven Red
•
inquiries of heart
from summer red lover’s lips
float like butterflies
•
green leaves on blue pond
float in golden summer sun
red bird softly sings
•
golden sun burns bright
scorching the red rock canyon
Sedona summer
•
eyes red from crying
words cannot be taken back
she will leave today
•
a ruby droplet
the yellow rose bears sharp thorns
we will share red wine
•
path forked this spring morne
white-tails chose tall trees instead
redwoods are safety
•
spring snow-pack’s melting
fresh mountain stream tumbles clear
under red maples
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #27
This is the twenty seventh of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This poem is an edited rewrite of a older poem of mine and was inspired by a moving personal experience, offered here in response to the NaPoWriMo Wordle prompt #27 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Unexpected
•
unquestionable joy
in a place most unexpected
the crystalline eyes of an innocent
cruel society deems disabled
bent and stooped
impossibly twisted
confined to constant care
and his rolling metal chair
a hardscrabble life
that would drive a lesser soul
to lunacy
but his gentle eyes reflect a wonder
my jaded heart has long since lost
by arrogance extinguished
his timeless spirit knows only trust
it pours forth from his being
positioned close and cozy
to the modest stage
he is enraptured by the music
engulfed within the rhythm
enthralled by this magic
he is beaming
like an angel
the band plays fast
the band plays slow
the band plays loud
the band plays low
he rocks forward
he rolls backward
waves in jubilation
and launches heart and soul
into a wicked shoulder wiggle
as he vibrates unabashed
with pure delight
the veins of his neck
stand out full and proud
as he tosses back his head
uninhibited in laughter
tears of joy
leaking down his cheeks
his person full alive
his essence full aware
his nascent bliss aglow
he is wholly in the now
he is filled with every note
wrapped up in the cadence
sparked by the drumbeat
thrilled by every nuance
he experiences an ecstasy
at which I can only marvel
its clarity and power I can never know
it’s at this moment
that I realize
how much I do not understand
as I behold this able man
faint envy stirs
watching his unbridled joy
so complete
and unexpected
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #26
This is the twenty sixth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This is my second metaphysical poem in two days, and was inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt # 26 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Becoming
•
as is the spark of birth
the burst of a seed
the first ray of dawn
the tug of love wakening
the moment of humility
the pen to blank page
so is the essence of becoming
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #25
This is the twenty fifth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This was inspired by a prompt at read write poem to write a “how to” about something difficult to do.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Being Now
•
step gently through the dream-gate
take hold the strand continuum
ride the light that carries you
to the is, was, the will be
transcendence moment
when the all is one
in the perfection
of pure being
here now
alive
∞
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #24
This is the twenty fourth of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This is about a poet struggling with inspiration, pressing to break through writer’s block.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
My Words
•
I released my words into the cold
they froze and cracked and splintered
which made them sharp and edged
and piercing
too difficult to handle
I thrust my words into the fire
they scorched and warped and blistered
which made them hot and rough
and coarse
too difficult to touch
I abandoned my words in the storm
they soaked and swelled and sagged
which made them bloat and droop
with heft
too difficult to hold
then I left my words quite well alone
in no adverse conditions
and light they rose up from my heart
and soft they rolled from off my tongue
and true they drifted through the air
where suspended souls could find them there
to take them in
and keep them safe
and treat them in a manner fair
to befriend them
in an honest way
until it was their time to share
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
NaPoMo poem #24-A
This is poem twenty-four-A of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This, like poem #24, is also about a poet struggling with inspiration, trying to block out the night noises and cacophony that surrounds him on a hot sticky night.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Dissonance
•
coarse whisper from above
promises relief
in vain
blades disturb page edges
at rest before me
in irregular rustle they taunt
impatient
untouched
no burden of remorse
no weight of mystery
do they bear
no sting of anger
no wink of mirth
with which to be dispatched
no coin of phrase to spend
dissonance
spills through the open window
the buzz, chirr, and leggy rasp
muffled keens
distant yelps
the edgy din of crawling
prowling night
intrudes in damp insistence
to fill my head
and leave not one small space
for wit or insight
all in vain
there is no relief
nothing clever
or profound
in the air this night
hot, sticky, thick
uninspired
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________
• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem