•
moonlight keeps dark at bay
pressing in
as night winds stir
mocking final breath of life
lost to the lightless realm
beyond the chill encircling me
no emotion here
save grief
failed digits of a graspless hand
on a broken stair
where ankle bent
and held oranges spilled
no voice came to the futile cry
those lips will not know again
sweet fruit
nor love…
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
…this piece evolved from both a visual prompt (see below) on Magpie Tales, as well as a “hinge” prompt on Read Write Poem…
•
so many times
I return home from a business trip
swing onto our concrete carport
pause – and key the engine off
all is silent – save the tick and popping
as the engine cools
my favorite moment
just before I open the door
to step out
to approach the house — approach 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
to take you in my arms
fall into your loving eyes
pull your willing body close
to wrap ‘round you
drink you in – intoxicated
these moments melt into sweet love making
that continues until exhaustion
we both love when I return
but tonight
I do not key the engine off
I do not reach for the handle
do not open the door
I simply sit
my warm hand encircling
the coolness of the ivory fob
you gifted me with
on our African honeymoon
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 soft and warm
warm as my trembling hand
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
he runs his fingers through her hair
tears run down his cheeks
he holds her near
cradled
too late protected
he runs the events
over and over in his mind
the horrible events
daisey
our golden lab
running out into the street
you running out after
right into the path
run down
why
why
why did you run
now time
and your precious life
running out
running out
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
sailing on a skiff of dreams
the ferryman standing watch
you soar untethered
‘mong the clouds of wonder
to magical mystical ports of call
where all imagined is in your grasp
if only you could stay the course…
but fast – daybreak approaches
• • •
The Final Dream…
•
caught in the final dream
called forth by the ferryman
spirit stirs to the distant voice
readies for the journey
one foot still in this mortal realm
soul resigned to embarkation
time folding in upon
as slow you approach the light
• • •
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
_____________________
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)
•
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
____
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
____
rob kistner © 2009
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
•
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
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
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
Love & War
The Nightmare
•
my eyes
crisp from the day’s cruel sun
burnt by devastation’s fires
scorched by images of relentless horror
take refuge
in this late-evening fog
settling heavy as a shroud
clinging
opaque
mercifully obscuring
I am sustained
by this damp pall
that descends cool upon me
wraps ‘round my pained countenance
fevered with fatigue
twisted with despair
drawn
by a faded memory of honor
a faint echo of duty
a frayed thread of human dignity
I stumble
broken by this sin I shoulder
not of my making
but of my charge
my sin
unleashed by others
who would impose their delusions
to advance their evil agenda
those who would rule the world
a world now broken
corrupted by their illusions
spoiled by their vanity
a world in chaos
as darkness deepens
this nocturne
I have but this ruin-riddled
highway of blood
of dying dreams
violated innocence
merciless destruction
of horrific death
this path of my duplicity
of my guilt
my shame
and so
I stumble on
bent by the weight of this falling evening
drowned in its drenching sorrow
my spirit hollow and empty
I slink exhausted
into this coming night
and
the next night
and
the night that follows
that always follows
captive on this road of murder
of brutal
human
arrogance
a prisoner
of this lost highway
seeking forgiveness
• • •
The Return
•
distant
slurred
reverberant
like a voice in a canyon
I hear you calling
from the past
my name
rolling sweet as nectar
from your lips
soft as orchid petals
full as a bursting peach
glistening deep coral
as they wrapped softly
‘round each pouted syllable
when you bid me tender farewell
so long ago
our fingertips had strained to grasp
until the final sensation of warmth
of touch
had faded
and they drifted apart
I had struggled
to tear my eyes from your tears
that glistened on your lashes
and around your swollen eyes
blue as a deep summer sky
to slip softly
over the crests of your velvet cheeks
down the contour of your face
flushed as sunset
to lightly salt your quivering lips
numb and dazed
I tunneled down the loading gate
toward the jet
that took me to hell
in those final moments
I locked the image
of your sorrowed face of love
deep in my heart
there it lives as my salvation
my only grasp on sanity
in these horrific years
my lips too
had quivered on that day
from the sting of separation
from the chilling knowledge
I would soon taste
the bitter blood of war
foul with the stench of death
not yet departed
I had longed
on that day
to gaze once more
into your brilliant blue eyes
and taste your sweetness on my lips
as I return this day
trying to face reality at 30,000 feet
I taste the salt of sadness
I fear a kiss from me
with my killer’s mouth
will forever defile
the fragile innocence of your lips
soft as orchid petals
full as a bursting peach
that glistened
and quivered
when last we parted
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
___________________________________
…photorendering entitled “Blood Orchid” by: rob kistner © 2008
…sculpture below by the remarkable Rose Bean Simpson… she is a 3D poet…
Vessel
•
there is a needing and a caring
a taking and a giving
pieces of one’s soul
peeled away
for the sake of the cherished
a duality of dark and light
positive and negative
that haunts the reaching out
and clutch of profaned hands
which inflict raw wounds
that also blesses the sacred touch
to sooth the burning bruise
and heal the unseen damage
a rootedness in the need to nurture
in the looking one-eyed blind
to see that which is not visible
to the unfocused seer
madness engulfs the heart
of the flat-light sighted
obscuring truth
the radiance of clarity
envelopes the sainted
illuminating the wondrous
voids of spirit
marked and remembered
are besought in the leaving time
at the crossing over
to the dream
or hard justice
I am here but for you
until all that remains are bones
taken up to strike down menace
that which means you harm
devour me complete
in validation of my path
consummation of my holy fate
I am your vessel of deliverance
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
…poem inspired by read write image #10, seen above, found at “readwritepoem”
…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”
Faster Faster
•
lay down your weight
put down your worry
slow down your pace
cease with your hurry
soon you will get there
life rushes by
you wonder when
so harder you try
to fill up what’s empty
as faster you fly
wondering when…
who’s wondering why
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
…art piece entitled “Faster Faster” by: rob kistner © 2009
Ghost of Love
•
(In loving memory of my son, Aaron Robert Kistner)
in the tears of this turbulent night
you come
as a breeze
stirring through my open window
a plaintive zephyr
yet sweet
you come
as a faint sound in the darkness
an easy laugh
rich voice
a song
you come
as a comforting thought
kindness
strength
a gentle way
you come
as a remembered presence
warm smile
clear eyes
peaceful eyes
full of wonder
the beauty of youth
you come
as a moment recalled
that precious last time
we stood embracing
this night
you come as a ghost of love
a specter of my longing heart
• • •
rob kistner © 2009