NaPoWriMo #9 – part two: That Moon

This is part 2 of my ninth post for National Poetry Month 2010



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…this is a very sobering piece written precisely to Robert Peake’s prompt at read write poem,
and influenced by prompt #9 at Magpie Tales…

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That Moon

•

that moon
that child
hold eternity’s promise in share

colorful pails on the ocean’s beach
festooned in starfish and octopus

campfire’s ‘neath a canopy of forever stars
jelly and jam on crustless bread

lipstick smeared on a giddy grin
the world of pretend

the strum of imagination
that brings song to the young heart
the thrill of dance to a child’s feet
like god’s marionette
that drives away the limp of sorrow

but now
summer’s nocturne
has robbed the colors of the day

families gather to reminisce of
the reds oranges blues
the violets and periwinkles
so as not to forget

in hopes that the joy will return
to massage the rigid cold to warmth again
the sun to re-torch the heavens

the children first see the gray descend
the gapes and gaps
the lever of lies
that loose the flaps that confine the fear

they feel the slippage
the hole in the universe
the backward motion
as all things gentle are sucked in

gray has overcome the landscape
gray is in the houses
and the homes
gray is at the dining table
black awaits in the chamber
when no one sober roams these rooms
and no one safe
is that child

when wrong things burn
bitter as paregoric
the way jugged whiskey
johnny walker
burns the throat
burns that skin
like bare knee on rough rug
like pumice on raw flesh
and winter chills the heart

when laughter bows out
and lies bow in
like the poison in a lizard’s wattle
with denial of the promise
of violet and periwinkle
oranges blues reds

but now
gray

and black waiting at the fringe
with the talon’s piercing sting
and the startled bruise
that begins the tome
of that child’s life
disappearing like smoke up a chimney

that child’s smile stowed away
in keeping for the time of that moon
and that promise
when the periwinkle will return

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

(inspired by a Michael Kenyon poem, “Feast”)

• photorendering entitled “The Edge” – by: rob kistner © 2010

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…for more NaPoWriMo 2010 day nine poems, go to readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #5 – Kathleen / Blossoms

This is my fifth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

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Kathleen

•

he has kept it locked for so long
none can pass
his grief makes certain none will try

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

brutal night has fallen
no sun can penetrate

the darkness soothes him
he retreats into its depths
hiding
shielded from any further pain

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
this is wrong
this is trespass
this is cruel betrayal of his lost beloved

he has no right to leave this place of sorrow
no right

but 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 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

• • •





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Blossoms

•

sweet pink blossoms fall

red spring buds will take their place

soon will be cherries

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

• photorendering entitled “The Key” – by: rob kistner © 2010
base image by: Getty Images
• photorendering entitled “Blossoms” – by rob kistner © 2010
base image by: Harold Davis
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…for more personal NaPoWriMo 2010 poems: readwritepoem

Brushstrokes of the Heart

 

 

Brushstrokes of the Heart

•

we were beautiful
as a painted egg

smooth couple
balanced relationship
bright and colorful
lovely to behold

at arm’s length

but we grew hollow
superficial
fragile
brittle

too easily crushed

and once so
forever broken

no over-lacquer
of sustained love
to add substance

no second coating
of genuine honesty
to insure strength

we lost
the tender brushstrokes
of the heart

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…come see egg-zactly what’s breakin’ at Magpie Tales

La Difference



 

La Difference

•

I take her into my arms
she brings her lips to mine

I run my hands down her back
caressing the satin flesh
that tapers to my touch
until my fingers
gently cup the firm and tender
that swells and rises
atop taut lush velvet stems

we collapse in passion
folding into one another
her breath hot on my neck
as I whisper warm into her ear
vive la difference
my love
vive la difference

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photorendering entitled “The Embrace” – by: Getty Images
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…catch the other differences at Carry On Tuesday

NaPoWriMo #3 – The Leap / New Life

This is my third post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

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…facing one’s fear…

 

The Leap

•

she need not be frightened
she knows the moves
sees the steps
clearly in her mind

she knows the stride
the position of her body
just before elevation

she understands the speed
the run up
the lead foot
the plant angle
the knee bend
the thrust

she has done this
literally thousands of repetitions
no need for trepidation

she knows the energy of the moment
of the crowd
as they anticipate
as she anticipates
the lift off
the rise

the glorious weightlessness
the thrill of flying
the feel of returning to earth
to her toes
her feet
how to offset the momentum

to snap to a graceful stop
come to point
straight and strong
arms raised and extended

the applause
that exhilaration

she knows this all
to her bones

she can do this
in her sleep

she has this mastered
she is a master dancer

but

that flash of doubt
and again
she fails

there is now one leap
she fears she cannot master

the leap
back through time
to her youth
to her glory
her invincibility

still
she leaps

she will always
leap

• • •

________________________

 

 

New Life

•

wife in her mud shoes

clatter in the potting shed

soon will come new life

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

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…for more fearless NaPoWriMo 2010 poems: readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #2 – The Willow / Spring

This is my second post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

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Remembering Willow Pond…

 

The Willow

•

the old man sat quietly
day after day
hands resting on his knees
day after day
hardly moving

save to raise his hand
to brush his brow
or adjust his cap

day after day
quietly
on the same park bench
at the pond
near the same tree
same willow

you could watch him come
mid-morning

see him leave
at dinner time

day after day
sitting there
hands on his knees
quietly
same bench
same tree

one morning
as he sat there
I left my office
walked across the street
into the park
approached him
smiled
and sat down beside him
quietly

he said nothing
so we sat together
for a while
quietly
on the bench
by the tree

finally
I spoke up

why do you sit here
old man
sit here
everyday
day after day
here on this bench
watching the pond
so quietly

he tilts his head
speaks softly
I’ve come here for years
he says

but how can that be
I say
these office buildings
this park
they’re all new
how could you have come
to this park
for years

not to this park
he says
not to this park
to this tree
me
and all my friends
came to willow pond
to this tree
this old willow
for years
day after day

why
I ask
why to this tree

quiet smile
we played cards
in its shade

he explains
we talked
laughed
we listened
at the pond
in its wonderful shade
day after day
this wonderful willow

where are your friends
I ask
why are they not here
with you
on the bench

because
he hesitates
they are gone
he says finally
quietly

gone
gone where

I ask

gone
is all he says
quietly
unmoving
hands on his knees
all gone

oh
I say
I see

do you
is all he says

so why do you sit here
day after day

I ask

he stares straight ahead
and after a bit
he says
I’m listening

listening
I say
listening for what

he sits quietly
for a while
then
without changing his gaze
without raising his hands
from his knees
he says
for anything
anything familiar

a small tear
glistens
in the corner of his eye

• • •

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Spring

•

purple finch sings out

budding trees are plentiful

spring is upon us

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

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…for more NaPoWriMo 2010: readwritepoem

Avatar

 

 

Avatar

•

you do not see
me

no shadow do I cast
that you perceive

no movement
to catch your eye

no color
no shape
no texture that is truly mine

you see
the avatar of your fantasy
the puppet of your desires
the specter of your lust

to you
I
am invisible

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

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• you can find more avatars at One Single Impression

…image found here

 

Alchemy

“Went digging through some of my older poetry to find this piece I wrote 9 years ago, March 2010. I remember being inspired to write it watching Hermione’s love potion scene in ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Price.’ I had just purchased the DVD at the time. My grandson was watching the DVD last night, which put me in mind of this poem. Wanted to share it here for dVerse OLN #252. It contains very minimal revision and a slight upgrade in graphic embellishment”

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Alchemy

~

you cannot change
a heart of iron
into a heart of gold

no precious warmth
will manifest
from something hard and cold

a love that’s locked
and set in cast
can never be set free

there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy

51A71700-37A0-46A2-8732-6ED479833CDF

you cannot stop
the hands of time
from spinning ever on

when the sand
is through the hourglass
those days are ever gone

you cannot bring summer back
when the leaves
are off the tree

there is no hope
nor magic spell
not even alchemy

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~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2010
revision © 2019

 

  • Click below to check out some fine poetry at dVerse:

    OpenLinkNight #252

  • Flower

     

     

    Flower

    •

    young flower fresh-bloomed
    engorged with succulence
    bursting with life’s urgency
    vibrantly seductive

    dewy lips of supple petal
    lay open in offered sweet delight
    velvet pistil of gentle blush
    enwrapped in throat of golden hue

    this vision of tender ecstasy
    entices with a lilting sway
    a fragrance to intoxicate
    wafting from the luscious folds

    breathing in the rich bouquet
    all senses stirred and tantalized
    my eyes embrace this visage rare
    pleasured in the heady moment

    captive by such vital beauty
    consumed, one savors slowly
    exquisitely delicious
    this tender bud, full bloomed

    • • •

     

    Flower

    (minimalist version)

    •

    young flower
    fresh-bloomed
    engorged
    bursting
    seductive

    supple petals lay open
    velvet pistil
    soft in golden throat

    lilting fragrant folds
    stir the senses

    consumed
    one savors slowly

    exquisite
    this tender bud
    full bloomed

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    …come see what else is blooming at Magpie Tales

    Sing

     

     

    Sing

    •

    a tear can cloud the brightest day
    song will brush aside the clouds
    is not sadness just a passing state
    but what a melody can chase away

    a tune played true with voice in tow
    little sorrows flee from such display
    thing is, so few will dare seek joy
    and thus succumb to feeling low

    yet when life is lived in harmony
    what hurt you have will drift and fade
    joy in chorus will lift the heart
    it swells the soul in reverie

    is it not foolish to keep bliss entombed
    to see not but the dark and gloom
    sing — and laughter will light the room

    a song is but a little thing
    and yet what joy it is to sing

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    • photorendering entitled “Sing For Joy” – by: rob kistner © 2010
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    …catch the other tunes at Carry On Tuesday

    Bridge of Auras

     

     

    Bridge of Auras

    •

    possessed of all it is I am
    I breath a sigh of longing
    and wish for what it is I’m not
    across the bridge of auras

    I covet not a kingly right
    nor scepter gold to rule a realm
    I seek to fill my barren soul
    across the bridge of auras

    worldly wealth is not my goal
    nor power over minions
    enlightenment is what I seek
    across the bridge of auras

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

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    • you can find more aura’s at One Single Impression

     

    Magenta Lace

     

     

    Magenta Lace

    •

    furtive strumpet nonpareil
    fumbles from the motor-coach
    cup of bacchus fondled lush
    held close to velvet bodice

    supple breast, soft loin and limbs
    costumed for seduction
    magenta lace and turquoise silk
    kindles lust’s combustion

    sweet undulation in a mirror mist
    of moonlight on the midnight fog
    beckons through the dewy fern
    enticing — come enjoy

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    _____________________


    …this piece inspired by a wordle at readwritepoem, and they all fit in quite wonderfully…

    photo rendering entitled: “Sweet Strumpet”

    The Collector

     

    The Collector

    •

    this day as I journey
    I come upon a stranger
    standing by the road looking sad
    heavy box held in his arms
    clutched close to his breast

    he stares into my eyes expressionless
    his gaze stops me still
    fixes me in place

    his face is tired and drawn
    etched in withered worry

    when at last I move
    I draw close enough to see
    this sullen man is me

    everyone is born with some special talent
    he sighs
    I am a collector
    of tears shed in moonlight
    the pain of love’s betrayal
    the grief of empty lives

    he concludes
    and offers out his hands
    that open on the box

    he beckons me retrieve
    this container he protects

    filled with apprehension
    I reach and grasp the case
    lift it cautiously from his grip
    lay it gently at my feet

    it opens as I do
    slowly
    to reveal its strange contents

    three lone broken hearts


    mute with wonder I behold
    confused yet riveted
    I ponder haunted as I do
    then inquire of the meaning

    these are yours
    I am told

    created by your deeds
    cruelly left behind
    as coldly you moved on

    each belonged to one who trusted you
    a trust you did betray
    without a second thought
    love you tossed aside
    abandoned carelessly

    now the burden of this box
    is mine beyond the grave

    eyes lowered in fatigue he exhales

    it was on a road like this
    that it was passed to me
    I have carried it too long
    I am weary from the load

    looking into my eyes he points

    now you must bend and lift
    and clutch it to your breast
    to struggle with its weight
    until you pass it on

    searching the distance he goes on

    someday a stranger will approach
    over that horizon
    he will stop and stare
    transfixed by your presence

    you will charge him with this chest
    then he will lift and carry
    as I do
    in this cycle of forever

    for he too
    will be you

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    • photo collage entitled “Broken Broken Broken” – by: rob kistner © 2010
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    …see other special talents at Carry On Tuesday

    The Elephant

    …this piece evolved from both a visual prompt (see below) on Magpie Tales, as well as a “hinge” prompt on Read Write Poem…

     

     

    The Elephant

    •

    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

    …come see what else this little elephant inspired at Magpie Tales
    …and check out what’s hinging at ReadWritePoem

    So Many Gifts

    NaPoMo poem #29

    This is the twenty ninth and the penultimate 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 a tongue-in-cheek, but well intentioned look at life’s many gifts, inspired by prompt #29 at read write poem.

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

     

    So Many Gifts

    •

    we were granted
    many gifts
    when we arrived
    here in this life

    perhaps the most precious
    is the gift of family

    to endure
    the gift of family
    and any other calamity
    we were bestowed
    the gift of courage
    the gift of patience
    is a part of this

    now when we require
    more reinforcement
    we have the useful
    gift of friends

    should all these gifts
    prove just too much
    there is the gift
    of nature’s beauty

    if we overdose
    on all things tranquil
    the fallback gift
    is our creative spark

    to prevent this gift
    from being wasted
    we have literature
    music and art

    and to preserve
    dark karmic balance
    we’ve been blessed
    with the critique clique

    finally we come
    to this the greatest
    of all the gifts
    that we possess
    and that gift being
    the gift of love

    though we enjoy
    all of these gifts
    life still can be
    quite tough at times

    but don’t despair
    no
    don’t lose hope

    some secret gifts
    have we been granted
    to give us strength
    and keep us going

    the first of these
    our sense of wonder
    and hand in hand
    our sense of awe

    and should all else falter
    there is the failsafe
    the secret weapon
    our sense of humor

    but please take heed
    keep careful watch
    if you lose this latter
    my friend
    you’re screwed

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2009

    ___________________________

    • you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem