“The “WhatThreeWords” for my zip code and street address were: moment / reveal / charge. Inspired by my 1984 Sept-Oct solo cross-country motorcycle roundtrip from Ohio to the Rockies and back, I incorporated my three words into this poem.”
Original DDE™ surreal art: “Due West” by: rob kistner © 10/3/24
The vast prairies
of my middle america
still in my mirrors
leaning comfortably into turns
breeze streaming through my hair
I begin to wind my way
into the mountains
into the golden evening
alive with two-wheeled freedom
master of the open road
not counting days
not keeping track
charging onward
feet up and flying
as I dash between shadow and light
the sun reveals itself
from time to time
from between the peaks
warming me
as it begins to settle
behind the western slope
of the mighty Rockies
I’ve shed structure
the heavy mantle of life
to venture into the random
into the unknown
to fully embrace life
the magnificent perfection
of simply living
in and for the moment
enjoying the thrill of the throttle
rapture in the lightness of freedom
spirit flying
so high and far above the ground
my spirit’s never comin’ down
never!
*
rob kistner © 2024
More poetry at: dVerse
You turned those tricky three words into a vivid panorama of a poem, Rob, and captured the biker’s dream.
So very pleased it resonated for you Kim, thank you friend… 🙂
It sounds wonderful to cruise like that… a myth of freedom, but I am sure there are some drawbacks somewhere (some days it will rain)
Rode through much rain in the 30 years I enjoyed on my 2-wheeled freedom. As long as it’s not a torrential downpour, and you are careful on the twisties, rain riding is a most exhilarating experience. I had a full windscreen on my bikes, and I wore a helmet. You remain reasonably comfortable because much of the rain travels up, over, and around you… until you come to a stop — but I never melted… 😉
May your wish come true xx
Thank you Jane… 🙂
I really like how you took the what3words location and turned it into a trip across locations!
Thank you Laura. I appreciate your kind words, my friend, and I am pleased you were taken by the piece. It was a reimagined, critically edited, and rewritten section from a much larger poem I wrote a number of years ago.
You have woven your word selection into a true life journey. You have been gifted with an amazing life, my friend. May your spirit always fly high and above.
My life began day 1 in a dark place, but perseverance, and the oft-fickle winds of fate, eventually unwrapped a pearl for me, even considering the roadblocks of recent years. When I can get my imagination to release me from my earthly distractions and challenges – it still lets me soar through a virtual universe of fascination. Even the dark stuff is rich and deep, if you keep a steady gaze, and don’t cower. But that can be difficult at times my friend — but to this point, fortune and fate has never made it impossibly dark, though the tragic death of my 18-year-old son Aaron nearly broke me badly. But the blessings of two other wonderful children, and a woman of these past 40 years, who possesses the tolerance of a saint, was the salve for that mortal wound. For so many reasons, I am a damn lucky son of a bitch to still be alive at 77. True, I’ll tell ya’ — I have pushed the envelope, and the envelope has pushed back, but I’m still here, and grateful so to be! 🙂
Hi Rob. you have had to navigated some difficult roads in life. I am sure the loss of your loss was and still is painful. Sadly, it seems light and dark roads find their way into the journey. You are 77 years young at heart. Always, let your creative passion keep you flying high. You still have much to offer the world.
Peace. & light
Thank you True, I appreciate the kindness… 🙂
you had excellent words to work with– and put them to good use! very nicely done. xx
Thank you Ren, very kind my friend. Yes, STAD 15027 / USZC 98028 is my point on that grid, and it really delivered words with great possibility — like it knew there is a poet/writer/artist/maniac that resides here… 😉
I love your digital self-portrait, Rob. I can just see you flying down the highway, no helmet, wind blowing your hair! Love your poem and the images it adds to the picture you created!
Thank you Dwight! Loved my two-wheel days Dwight, and I miss them achingly!! It was a glorious feeling flying down the highway immersed in trivector, 3D steering my friend. As close to flying as you can get, without leaving the ground… 🙂
Sounds fantastic and I wish I could just ride down the highway…ahhh!
Just get your motor runnin’ Di, and head out on the highway… 🙂
What a trip, Rob! That liberating feeling on a two-wheeler is unparalleled..
Can’t rude anymore because of health and I miss it achingly Punam… 😐
This is wonderful, Rob. So uplifting.
Thank you Robbie… 🙂
Wonderful poem!
Thank you Kate… 🙂
Living the moment, definitely, in this verse where echoses of the greats are found, the greats who wrote of nature, established natural parks..thinking of John Muir and others…
I have always had a wild spirit, far preferring wilderness my entire life over the domestic metropolis. I used to hike Muir woods as it was near Skywalker Ranch, and when I was in town I’d hike the old growth of Muir Wood. came into the cities for decades with my bands because I loved to sing. But I lived most of my life in the country, for 28 years in the western foothills of the Oregon Cascade Mountain Range, near the confluence of the Great Willamete River and the Clackamas. When I wasn’t making music, designing home theaters as a per project consultant for George at Lucasfilm LTD, or writing poetry, or making art — I was in the mountains hiking, fishing, and forest-bathing. And it is in wilderness I spent the lion’s share of those 3 decades of ecstasy in Oregon! Oh yeah, and I was obsessed with U of Oregon Duck football (the oblong football) though I ams a fiend fir soccer. It was all paradise for nearly 30 years! Here in Seattle fir the past ten years, it has been hard to escape very often into the arms if the wild. My failed heart failure, pacemaker, and general failing health have robbed me of my wild world — I miss it achingly.