Tag: Free Verse

Unexpected

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

 

Becoming

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

 

Being Now

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

 

My Words

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

 

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

 

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

 

Otherworldy

NaPoMo poem #15-A

This is fifteen-A 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.

This is a bit of sci-fi poetry, inspired by a flash fiction fantasy story I wrote a while ago.

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

 

Otherworldly

•

I’ve watched
golden Fire Clouds
hanging in pale green skies
over the azure seas of Toluras

heard the haunting call
of the coral-winged Lellurt
soaring Droon’s violet skies
over teal Darpin Bay

seen the copper leaves
of Parmus fronds
flashing from indigo mountains
in the crystal mists of Gemin

been seduced by saffron Remmors
a’swim with siren song
translucent in the amber waters
of emerald Topiarus

I have beheld exquisite beauty
of otherworldly delight
but nothing to please my eyes and ears
as you, here, tonight

• • •

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

 

Orchid

NaPoMo poem #13-A

This is the thirteen-A 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.

This poem is inspired by the most beautiful, most sensual, and my most favorite of all the flowers of our planet — the orchid.

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

 

Orchid

•

young orchid
fresh-bloomed

engorged

bursting with life’s urgency
vibrant
and seductive

dewy lips
of supple petal
lay tender open

a velvet pistil
of gentle blush
is enwrapped
in a throat of fiery hue

so exhilarating
enticing
as it lilts
and sways

a fragrance
that intoxicates
wafts
from sensuous folds

the lush bouquet
tantalizes

eyes embrace
the vision rare
as senses stir
pleasured
in this heady moment

captive
by such vital beauty
consumed
one savors slowly

exquisitely delicious
this tender bud
full bloomed

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Chilling Reality

NaPoMo poem #13

This is the thirteenth 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.

It’s a bit of poetic whimsy inspired by a Wordle posted on the read write poem site.

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

 

Chilling Reality

•

the green ice machine
in the room
by the hotel pool

you know the one
that produces
the briny tasting cubes
with the acute odor of cod

well somehow
it single-handedly
achieved singularity
around 11:00 PM
last night

and
in a jubilant frenzy
ran down the stairs
freely spewing its contents

then it burst
through the main lobby
and slipped
out the front door

but before it departed
it proceeded to impugn
the candy machine
claiming it was a changeling

insisting that in fact
it was a cigarette machine
only masquerading
as sweet
and innocent

but I’m not certain
that ice machine
can be trusted

granted
it’s cool

but I always thought
something was fishy
about that apparatus
and always
took what it said
with a grain of salt

• • •

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