•
to grow up
is to chase off
our innocence
our naïve belief
in the world as a beautiful place
to harden against the magic
of our childhood dreams
but if by chance
we can cling to just one
perhaps we can hold on
to our precious sense of wonder
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
on the boulevard below
last night’s rain puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
held hostage by tire and curb
as if abandoned by the waters of earth
it shoulders its way through the gutters
in search of mother sea
this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets
me and the first edition
we sit by this morning window
with coffee and curiosity
quietly serenaded by the 5:00 AM news
I read
occasionally glimpse the screen
grow troubled by our human plight
amazed how we never learn
when the answers seem so obvious
in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup
until I stare distracted
the announcer’s mouth continues sculpting words
but I’ve fallen deep into my thoughts
imagining how different it would be
if I ruled this world
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
the graceful glide
engulfed by the spire
in a roar of golden orange
horribly beautiful
perversely mesmerizing
obscene
devastating images
torrents of humanity
raining down
desperation their only escape
masses of humanity
racing
to outrun the unbelievable
praying
to be delivered from the inconceivable
traumatic images
shrines of free commerce
consumed
by the unbearable weight
of their fragile significance
plummeting to earth
in a cloud of self-destruction
heartbreaking images
screaming
dazed
terrified souls
consumed
by the unbearable weight of the moment
staggering onward
to outdistance the surging roll
of all-engulfing
pulverized aftermath
courageous images
battered
determined
tireless heroes
those who were called
who served unselfishly
some
who gave the ultimate service
haunting images
color
gender
ethnicity
wiped away
from the ashen-grey faces
of the traumatized throngs
now just masks of calamity
all made equal
by horror and grief
one nation
under siege
inconsolable
with tragedy and sorrow
for all
unforgettable images
burned into our hearts
•
the great wheel of time
turns ever slow and steadily
its ponderous mass unstoppable
it presses onward mightily
climbs the mortal mountain
bearing the weight of history
of ages and civilizations
borne then razed by its immensity
our lifetimes ride this wheel
how far is but a mystery
locked in fate ’round we go
rolling bold toward hidden destiny
frail temporal beings
of a most amazing bravery
we dream of a tomorrow
for which there is no guarantee
adrift toward a future
of veiled and vague contingency
still — we dare to love
despite this vast uncertainty
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
sad she comes
everyday
to these empty shores
on wings of memory
to serenade this sea
a song of longing
bowed on strings
of a broken heart
mournful for the one
lost to these silent fathoms
her tears
steady as the mists
relentless swept away
by these cold
indifferent waves
only they
know where her lover lies
so everyday she comes
taunted by these tides
to seek their mystery
and every night
darkness falls
chill upon this deep
her forlorn refrain
shatters in the moonlight
the sea holding cruel tight
to its precious secret
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
_________________________
TWO OTHER RECENT POEMS:
Fret Not
•
people are consumed
by endings
speak of their finality
their permanence
their absoluteness
but I say no
in this age of recycling
repurposing
sequels
syndication
spin-offs
botox
rogaine
viagra
endings are not absolute
eventually inevitable
but in that
they are not so special
not unique
beginnings
these are unique
these are absolute
they only happen once
they are not inevitable
not guaranteed
they require a complex
independent
set of variables
to come together
perfectly timed
properly executed
and in that
they are singular
very very special
so let us not fret
nor dwell
nor waste emotion upon
something so commonplace
as endings
instead
let us seek
let us anticipate
let us celebrate
beginnings
these amazing culminations
of elusive possibilities
they are so full
of promise
of potential
of mystery
so worth our wonder
• • •
rob kistner © 4/30/11
Burst
•
sky pulls with spring rain
sprouting seeds push seeking light
sun stirs petal’s blush
engorged buds burst to unfurl
nature reaches tipping point
• • •
rob kistner © 4/13/11
•
he wakes
unbidden by alarm
lingers in the darkness
warm neath the blankets
fumbling for the lamp
follows moments of procrastination
before he lifts himself upright
slides feet into slippers
to rise ever so stiffly
from the comfort of bed
pulling on his robe
he ambles to the kitchen
takes a cup from the shelf
pours chamomile tea
brewed ready each morning
by the wonders of technology
he retreats to his office
to his chair
where it waits
welcoming
in a pool of soft light
buffered against the chill
of pre-dawn dark
he sits
sips steeped motivation
quietly peeling away fog
that layers his mind
residue of another fitful night
he is somber
but pleased to be awake
to be alive
grateful for the peace
and the quiet of early morning
fleeting though it is
his thoughts
begin to un-blend
to gather
in a cohesive palette
stirring his notice
slowly they sort
in colors of mood
melancholy greys
fear’s dark ebony
purples of pain and anger
the violet of regret
sorrowful blues
gentle peaceful greens
golden joy
laughter’s bright amber
love’s ruby red
the scarlet of passion
this morning
reflections on his mortality
newly threatened
shoulder in coldly
crowding his reverie
pondering his plight
cursing fate
he struggles
neath the weight of uncertainty
a riot of emotions
overcome him
he seeks clarity
he reaches for his laptop
his tool of resolution
his canvass of language
in the spreading saffrons
and corals of dawn
he begins painting deep indigo
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
Limitless
•
• written for Writer’s Island
Poet
abandon vague image
do not weave a fabric of myth
or speak to us in grand verse
telling of the song of the spheres
or the days before this dark time
you see many things poet
but you talk in riddles
you avoid the cold hard way
for the soft path of platitudes
of metaphors
of meter and rhyme
but this is not the time
look poet
look into the flames
the fire of human suffering
feel it burn your eyes
char your soul
tell us how that feels
tell us how to see
with our own eyes
help us see the real place of light
you must tell us poet
in the power of plain language
in the clear voice of truth
tell us what is real
we will listen
with a pure heart of justice
raise your shield of words
lift your pen poet
like a sword
show us the grip
we will save the beauty
celebrate the wonder
protect the unique splendor
or we will join the battle
to strike down imbalance
to drive away sorrow
lead us poet
we will follow
*
rob kistner © 2011
Written for: Magpie Tales
Poetry at: dVerse
Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers
Poetry at: earthweal
Equinox
•
winter’s journey ends
lengthening light bears witness
spring crests and breaks
here at the equinox
life bursts forth
poking through pliant soil
unfurling on barren branch
here at the equinox
nature stirs in song and call
celebrating new birth
sustaining the cycle
here at the equinox
my heart leaps
my spirit dances
to this rhythm of renewal
here at the equinox
• • •
rob kistner © 3/20/11
•
from the spark of cognizance
at the dawn of awareness
through the ions of fire and conflict
forward past the dark times
beyond the ages of change
into these centuries of new growth
they have kept it
locked in their hearts
burning in their souls
the keepers of the secret
and now
on the threshold of actualization
realizations unfold
its safeguard is the catalyst
it must never be told
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
seek not the pompous
swelled with false confidence
dispensing the formulas of bliss
condemning you as the un-visioned
while fleecing you of your hard begotten
follow not the kings and queens of mammon
who worship the bottom line
desiring the upper hand
who would despoil the world and all it offers
as their playground of gratification
suffer not the priests and priestesses
who would say that only they have heard
and in so saying would dictate your thoughts
and direct your deeds
to conform to this truth of the god in their pocket
do not be cowered by the iron hand
of the bullet-brained who march in step
to crush under boot the will of any who will not queue
into the line that they have deemed
leads to the only way that life must be
do not be swayed by those who know
possessed of absolutely no uncertainty
knowing sure that what they know is what is
and in their infallible knowledge
know that what they know is was and will ever be
instead — gather with those who do not know
find the curious and the uncertain
those still filled with wonder
drawn to unfolding discovery
who embrace the constancy of learning, change, and growth
it is they who will traverse this evolving world
fashioned as a fair and better place
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
this final edit inspired by prompt #24 at Writer’s Island,
prompt #23 at We Write Poems,
and prompt #74 at Carry on Tuesday.
•
from rippled sinew black as midnight
bores a stare of molten gold
a furious but calm inferno
searing deep to burn your soul
unyielding is this panther’s pace
held captive in this foolish zoo
cold eyes rivet snarled contempt
unfathomed pools of quiet rage
on this panther paces paces
turns and paces back he paces
graceful stride of brute resolve
presses on to test his bounds
proud this captive soul just paces
frustration turns anger retraces
this brutal prison of false environ
does not fool this mighty beast
observe how he continues pacing
instinct certain this is not home
his piercing gaze fixed well beyond
his suffered fate of cruel confine
see the panther pacing pacing
his nature steeled his spirit strong
relentless sorrow wild longing
drive on and on his constant stride
this will not break his fierce resolve
he tracks freedom he stalks life
imprisoned he will forever pace
and he will pace
and he will die
• • •
(haiku)
•
caged beast close your eyes
have no fear of letting go
dream of wild freedom
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
•
go down in trial
endure the tribulation
emerge rapt in grace
steeled by the tempering fire
molten molded pure and strong
• • •
