Tag: blues

Dissonance

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

•

relentless whir
in cycled pulse
drones overhead

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

 

For Granted

NaPoMo poem #22

This is twenty second 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 homage to Gaia, our mother earth, in celebration of Earth Day 2009. Embedded within this free verse poem are a trio of haiku, each focused at our earth.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

Earth Day 2009

For Granted

•

you prepare for sleep
each night

consciously
or unconsciously

confident of gravity

that it will keep you
anchored
in your bed

snug in your bed

that you won’t wake
to find yourself
having floated off

now entangled
in the sweeping branches
of the willow
in the backyard

that wonderful weeping willow
always bending
and swaying

like some sinewy
sap-laden
great elephant

trundling
great elephant

trundling
and swaying

on the lookout
for water
in the arid
african bush

such majestic
mysterious
beautifully dangerous bush

in africa
the amazing dark continent

with zebras
and giraffes
and lions

and of course
elephants

in africa
in the earth’s
southern hemisphere

and all of this
kept firmly aground
by earth’s gravity

pretty astounding
when you consider

earth hurtles through space
eighty times the speed of sound
racing toward hope

our frail earth needs hope
desperately it needs help
it is in trouble

our earth’s crying out
it’s balance has been disturbed
we humans don’t hear

all we ever think about
is bed

money and bed

and gravity

and then
often only in passing

when we’re not
simply
taking it for granted

the earth
and all these incredible things
for granted

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

I will Not Forget

NaPoMo poem #19

This is the nineteenth 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 an older poem I’d written, but not completed to my satisfaction. Today’s prompt brought such deep feelings flooding into my heart, I was compelled to revisit the draft of this work and bring it to a fitting completion. I am very pleased with how it has turned out.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

I Will Not Forget

(rappelé toujours)

•

there are days I still can feel
the breeze of youth gently stir my soul

days remembered of grace and lightness
when faith in truth sparked splendid dreams

those days of you

when all we touched was fresh and new
and the world was full of wonder

when we were certain we’d live forever
our strength made each day a great adventure

those carefree days

the days we witnessed one for the other
as we made vows to our chosen life mates
raised our children
grew our careers
our families close through these days of joy

but not these days

I’ve grown unyielding
rigidly braced
against the winds of time and fate

my soul is rooted in life’s demands
I search its blessings
curse its burdens

these brittle days

I am bent by the yoke of worry
heavy with the weight of loss

I am haunted by the ghost of memory
the lonely days when I think of you

these empty days

how can this void be filled
when one so vital has departed

this world was denied much wit and wisdom
kindness and love lost
when you passed

how can this void be filled
when one so rich in these is gone

one who understood the need for giving
in a careless world darkened by greed

a tender heart
truly unselfish
whose warm embrace included all

how can this void be filled
when a brilliant light has been snuffed out

I will not forget

I will remember you
and all those days
that’s how I will fill this void

with the seeds of friendship
you planted deep inside my heart
now filled with grief

may they grow to make me gentler
and me — the world a better place

good-bye my friend

ever will I tend these seeds
and think of you

I will not forget

• • •

 

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Stir of Love

IMG_8652

 

Stir Of Love

____

he has kept it locked for so long
the horror of that night
holds the seal tight

the memory riveted
securely barring entry
none can pass

his bitter resolve
makes certain none will try

this is a dark forbidden place
high-walled
cold and barren
unyielding
lifeless

a wasteland of the lost
inhabited by the dead

the gate grown over
by a tangle of grief and anger

any memory
of a once vital presence
of a living breath
of warmth
of joy
forever gone

brutal night has fallen long ago
that no sun can penetrate

the blackness soothes him
he retreats into its depths
embraces its lightless void
hiding
sulking

shielded from any possibility
of further pain or remorse
he is unfeeling
safely lifeless

but see
a shadow
falls across the threshold

someone approaches

a comely being
warm and alive
lays gentle siege
threatening to breach
his hardened fortress

but
this lovely creature
fair and fragile
can not possibly gain entrance

must not

he will resist
he must

this is wrong
this is trespass

this is cruel betrayal
of his lost beloved

he has no right
to leave this place of sorrow
to step into the light

no right

but it grows inevitable
all seems lost
his stronghold is succumbing
falling to this delicate advance

he is vulnerable
terrified
but it is useless to resist

searching with a patient heart
she has found it
the key

grasped in her loving hand
fingers tenderly enfold it

gently
she slides it into the lock
turning with great care

he is defenseless
he feels his heart slowly open

the long forgotten
stir of love
begins to warm his soul


IMG_8653

____

 

rob kistner © 2009

 

Gone / A Leaf

NaPoMo poem #17 & #17-A

This is a pair of poems I offer for the seventeenth day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

These two works, though written separately, have revealed themselves to be joined as bookends of emotion — the piercing ache of separation, and the bittersweet tenderness of eternal longing.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

Gone

•

turning to leave
you cover the distance
to the door
in a few heartbroken steps

you look back
I will miss you
in your eyes

you hold my gaze
as if to speak

nothing is said

you lower your eyes
turn your head
step through the door

and are gone

• • •

 

 

A Leaf

•

sitting
I watch a leaf
fall from a tree

forever parted

the evening light
settles soft on my face

my eyes
fix on the far horizon

a tear
warms my cheek

you have never left my heart

• • •

 

both poems by: rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

15 Days To Go

NaPoMo poem #16

This is the sixteenth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

15 Days To Go

•

I just sit here and stare
my creative cupboard’s bare
I find I just can’t write
but I can’t be up all night
not when there’s still 15 days to go

no matter how hard I try
I just come up dry
I am most bereft
I’ve nothing poetic left
and there’s still 15 days to go

I’m not at all amused
that my muse has refused
to offer inspiration
and to add to my frustration
there’s still 15 days to go

I think perhaps I’ll draw
and hope that this will thaw
my rock-hard writers freeze
I beseech you sweet muse – please
there’s still 15 days to go

I’ve struggled and I’ve stammered
I think I’ll just get hammered
if I really tie one on
the pain will all be gone
screw it, it’s only 15 days – ya know

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Two Views

NaPoMo poem #15

This is the fifteenth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

I interpreted today’s read write poem NaPoMo prompt a bit differently from Christine’s example. This is still a response to “instead of”, but I wrote two poems, each from the perspective of an ancient old-growth tree. One looks at our world from a ‘glass half empty’ perspective, the other from ‘a glass half full’ point of view.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

Two Views

•

(pessimism)

I watch

as generations recede
as empires crumble
as wisdom ebbs

I’ve observed
millenniums of human folly
as they stumble
to a cold isolated existence

disconnected from each other
from everything
serving the machine

perfecting violence
as they race to ruination

aliens in eden

I see the natural world
reshaped
scarred
diminished

but still I stand
thrusting skyward
closer to heaven
than any living thing

a perpetual survivor
rooted in perpetuity

the constant sentinel

a witness to tragedy

•

(optimism)

I watch

as generations move forward
as civilization painstakingly progresses
as knowledge slowly unfolds

I’ve observed
millenniums of human endeavor
as they awaken
to self-sufficiency

less dependent on conformity
on hive mentality
mastering the machine

enduring strife
as they strive for the light

evolving beings

I see the natural world
reshaped
tempered
resilient

and still I stand
reaching skyward
closer to heaven
than any living thing

a perpetual presence
rooted in perpetuity

the constant sentinel

a witness to triumph

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

The Return

NaPoMo poem #14

This is the fourteenth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

The Return

•

the ruby’d chains
sparkled and stretched away
pulling me along

as 2 cords
of diamond bright white
clustered up from behind
to nudge me onward

the precious ribbons
stranded for miles
disappearing over the horizons

the freeway had been dense
this night
as I made my way
from the busy airport
back to our beloved home
our sanctuary

the one we’d found together
deciding immediately – this was it
on that crisp spring saturday
when we were beginning
to feel we never would

the home we’d come to cherish

but finally
this turn
down our country lane

I could make it in my sleep

so familiar

I anticipate every bend
and rise
every dip

they are welcome as a friend

like the sound of my tires
as they trundle ‘cross
the narrow wooden bridge
that fords
our crystal trout stream
as it falls
brisk from mountain snow-pack

and coming round

I see the corridor
of faithful old-growth Doug’s
stepping back for me
to nestle the foothills

inviting my return
guarding my safe passage

they sway

as if to celebrate
that I am back

now
it’s left up our gravel drive

the pebble and crushed rock
crunch and clatter in stony rustle
as I traverse our hill

then swing onto our concrete carport
pause
and key the engine off

all is silent
save the tick and popping
as the engine cools

this is my favorite moment

just before I open the door
to step up
and approach the house
to bring myself to you

this moment of anticipation
knowing you are waiting

bathed and fragrant
warm and soft

dressed in something that will whisper
welcome home my love
I’ve missed you

then I take you in my arms
fall into your loving eyes
pull your willing body close

to wrap ‘round you
and drink you in
intoxicated

these moments
melt into sweet love making
that continues until exhaustion

we both love
when I return
happy ending, stop here…… from a business trip ……stop here, happy ending

• • •

tearful ending, read on…… but tonight ……read on, tearful ending
I do not key the engine off

I do not reach for the handle

do not open the door

I simply
sit

you are no longer waiting
not in quite sometime

not since you lost your battle brave

not since I held you
that final time
your body still warm and soft

not since then

not since then

now
my business trips are longer

my returns
fewer

and farther between

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Morning in the Neighborhood

NaPoMo poem #12

This is the twelfth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

Morning in the Neighborhood

•

he lifts himself quietly
so quietly
from beneath the sheets
soiled with neglect

he makes his way carefully
past the shallow-breathed crumple
that lay milky-eyed in a heap
un-moving on the floor
save a twitch of the head

which head now harbors demons
where nocturne angels
of sweet release
laid down lush upon her
in fevered embrace
lustfully conjured
by last night’s spoon and lance
still skewered silver
in the soured vein

this wreckage is his mother

he stops but for a glance
verifying life
then moves on
head down

he angles to the bathroom
to the scum-brown bowl
to wash his face

a face lit sallow
by the yellowed bulb
that hangs bare and lonely

eyes of knowing
eyes of sadness
stare into the mirror
broken as his heart

in the dank foodless morning
of this ruined single room
he gathers up his books
steps lightly through the door
down the damaged stairs
into the hostile streets

heavy with a childhood
of strangled dreams
he ducks and dodges
in and out of shadows

his prayer
to once again avoid the evil
that lurks and slinks
among the garbage and graffiti
of these crumbled brickened canyons

seductive as a smile
deadly as a snake

evil

which if diligence should fail
will consume his youthful soul

deliberately he continues
until at last he finds his way
into the building
into the classroom
into his desk

into the only hope
to which this innocent
dare cling

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Still Life

NaPoMo poem #5

This is the fifth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

 

Still Life

•

like drizzled honey
the sun through the treetops
paints my face in golden warmth

my thoughts drift to you
and the tall ships in Beaufort Harbor
their sails aglow
etched in shadows
cast by their riggings
and the masts of adjacent ships

you commented how the patterns
reminded you
of abstract charcoal sketches
the artist in you
always interpreting your world

sunshine made radiant your gentle face
your green eyes sparkled
squinting in the rays
your smile
brighter than the sun that day

I stared captivated
watching your eyes dance
among the docks and ships
that unfolded like a still life before us
watching your lips sculpt your words
wishing the moment would last forever

knowing that it could not

this morning
my memories
amble sweetly
back through time

I find solace in this cuddled light
knowing it warms you
as you rest peacefully
in the sun-drenched meadow
where last you closed your eyes

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Bleed-Through

NaPoMo poem #4

This is the fourth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.

 

Bleed-Through

•

second coat
always a second coat

makes the color deeper
no bleed through
so I have at it once more

this empty room needs a change
now that you are gone

but two coats
three coats
I still can see the heartache
bleeding through

and the tears

these walls are saturated
I still hear them weeping

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

The Shine

 

 

The Shine

•

I sit

watch the flow of people

the shuffle of feet
with their different sounds
according to their shoes

I see wan faces
of unsmiling lips
their void curves denounce this night

yet unseen
is the gossamer curtain’s fall
that defines their soul’s duality

the divergent reality
through which truth stumbles blind
to move in the world
rough as a rope
taut as every promise made

frayed as wisdom
leaned in
whispered from behind

grab at time like dropped money

I might learn something tonight
if someone will release the light
so I can shine like a child
who likes ice cream most of all

this child reads old men’s minds
and notices the shoes
the belts all made of leather

I feel a shiver
of sad imbalance
a confliction in my soul

so I will watch the shoes
and practice non-attachment
because I can

but pieces of me
stick to whoever gets too close

you may have seen me
silhouetted against the sky
the coldest night in January
howling with the frozen moon

then moon and I sneak
through fate’s construct
among cages of studs & trusses
we run

from room to imaginary room
the whole world close enough to touch

we eat a midnight lunch
of damaged bread
seasoned by caution
and foreign lands
with onioned thoughts
layered deep

show mercy
peel back the layers

peel me away
thin by thin
skin by skin
to my quivering soul

I hope I am not ugly in your sight

these thoughts
become too heavy to hold
to tough to chew or swallow

my thoughts

bone-white lies of morality plays
open for you to peek

hope they are not ugly in your sight

hope they do not make you weep
as you peel back all the layers

onioned
thought
layers

held fast and firm
like a carapace
to which I’m stitched and welded
and can no more leave
than you can truly enter

they tie me down
sometimes
but sometimes barely so

inescapable optimism
in my barebones grin
flashes in the brittle moonlight

a stranger comes to where I sit
to see

his stare
blinds the stars from my eyes

behind his fey smile
his radar dreams
scan the forgotten creases
and clandestine getaways
in my mind

standing over
he peers down
with probing gaze

one of us will learn
a thing or two this night

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

___________________________________

…photorendering entitled “Cornered” by: rob kistner © 2008

 

Sunrise Requiem

…this poem was inspired by two wonderful lines of refrain provided by Michelle McGrane…

 

 

Sunrise Requiem

•

the afterimage has yet to dim
emblazoned in my mind
the sun fresh on the horizon
my eyes follow your graceful silhouette
moving away from me
the taste of you sweet on my lips

if you are lucky
you will carry one night with you

my gaze held fast
until there was nothing
just the rising sun
the cruel sun
that disrupted our tender night
with the promise of another
but no warning
how very dark and deep

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 this sunrise
would burn into my heart
our final sunrise
the taste of you sweet on my lips

if you are lucky
you will carry one night with you

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…wonderful poems found at “readwritepoem”

 

Seasons of Love

 

 

Seasons of Love

•

I take you in a park in May
in the cool Spring breeze at the end of day
on the silvered beach of a white-capped bay
at the mouth of a moonlit waterway

I take you in a tree-filled park
on a matt of fallen aspen bark
to the Summer song of a meadow lark
on a sunny day until the dark

I take you by the garden wall
in the dappled shade of a willow tall
on the scattered down of its leafy sprawl
on a crisp, and heady day in Fall

I take you by the oaken mill
‘neath an autumn tree on a grassy hill
I will take you in the early chill
when our Winter comes — I will take you still

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…wonderful poems found at “readwritepoem”