Tag: love

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

 

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

 

Rapt

NaPoMo poem #9

This is the ninth 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.

Rapt

____

my footfalls
drum the root chambers
of the old growth
each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
in this ancient forest

enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I amble

my walking stick is smooth
clutched comfortably
in my right hand

tensions dissipate
soothed
by the audible stir of the wind
in the treetops

wafting down the western Cascade slopes
it invigorates

the steady rhythm of my footsteps
hypnotize

rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
I crest a knoll
and stop

mesmerized

filtered by the towering woodland canopy
light drifts down dreamlike
settles golden
into the natural cathedral before me

a presence is tangible

a breeze enfolds me
filled with the intoxicating scent
of living earth

an addictive bouquet
of cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
bark
loam
and ionized mountain air

my spirit rises
my being grows weightless
any sense of self floats away
lifted into oneness
wholeness
bliss

I’m startled from my reverie

a young doe
bounds onto the trail ahead
stands proud
pauses in the golden light

she considers me briefly
then disappears
quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time

darting my eyes
here then there
in a vain attempt to follow her
I catch glimpse of silver-blue
shimmering
where massive tree trunks part

a wind-blow lake appears

this crisp mountain mirror
is the reason for my trek
into this mighty wilderness

climbing a boulder at trail’s edge
I sit
pull my legs under me
and lean forward
elbows on knees

I face lake-ward
basking in the energy

I grow very still
listen
gaze
I become this moment
rapt

in touch with my soul
with the eternal
transcendent
in paradise

____

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

My First

NaPoMo poem #8

This is the eighth 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.

 

My First

•

radiant in the bloom of youth
perfect skin of alabaster
eyes blue as the sea of Zanadu
chestnut hair flows thick and lustrous

your voice is soft as spring’s first breeze
as rich and melodic as Chopin’s sonata
your beauty smolders like an august night
so much more than captivating

as your satin robe falls soft away
your shoulders catch the moon’s embrace
and as you gaze into my eyes
my heart and all of time stands still

my eyes then glide your wondrous flesh
trace the gentle edge of dark and light
where moonlight fondles your perfect form
as it enfolds you through the open window

I follow full measure your lyric essence
lost in the tangles of your silken hair
aglow in nocturne’s silvered light
as they fan in wisps your graceful neck

I linger on eager bud of tender breast
then fall entranced by the velvet flower
shadowed in the satin cleft
where supple limb meets supple limb

I reach to take you in my arms
to learn the feel of you on me
with precious care I lay you down
and enwrap you in a lover’s passion

alive in a rush of sweet sensations
I’m swept away in a flood of pleasure
so wonderfully new – you are my first
the one I always will remember

• • •

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

 

3rd Time – Love

NaPoMo poem #3

This is the third 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.

 

3rd Time – Love

•

you maiden of ice and storm
grew hard-edged and ever bitter
brittle as a sun-parched bone
chilled as a steel-cold touch

and you maiden of your jealous god
grew sullen and removed
closed tight to this worldly plane
pining for your not-yet bliss

now sweet maiden of the tender soul
of warmth and open joy
you come to me with passion’s kiss
to claim my love for life

these three forever known by me
each occupied a different dream
two knew a man who’s now long past
one knows and holds my heart

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Splendid Fool

NaPoMo poem #1

This is the first 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. As April 1st is also ‘Fools Day’, I felt the subject of this piece to be most appropriate.

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

 

Splendid Fool

•

spring can make one
act the splendid fool
heady with anticipation
desires sparkle like a jewel

now intoxicated
winter’s pale heart yearns
to feel this grand unfolding
as nature’s great mandala turns

this sweet inebriation
of love’s eager soul
can spark the rash impulsive
and draw one to the jester’s role

be wary – for when one’s
caught in this season’s swoon
that which brittles in january
one might embrace in supple june

the elixir of a world in bloom
is to the lusting lovelorn
a most dangerous of potions
causing clear thought to be stillborn

remember and be warned
under passion’s frenzied rule
spring will often make one
act quite the splendid fool

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Love & War (two poems)

 

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

 

Supple Soul

 

…photo below entitled “Strange Fruit”, by Lucas Rocha…

Supple Soul

•

rise up now

clad in colors
of a joyful life

rebuke the strife

tilt against convention

the prevailing norm
is a toxic storm

buck the winds of brute rebuff

stare down the face of ridicule
if buffeted by cruel
condemnation
from the foolish
sadly blown off course

be not inclined to fear
nor falter
choose instead
to tame the dread

to stay ones ground
leaning hard on raw conviction

be anchored bold
and deeply hold
to the genuine
do not resent

remain flexible
to withstand the blows
of frightened those
who would see you swayed
and have you bent

your broken spirit
for so to savor

stand head high
back straight
don’t ever waver

but never rigid
brittle
prone to break

do not forsake
your heart song

wisdom is a supple soul
skewered through
by true enlightenment

pierced clean and strong
by wonder
bleeding hope
and justice

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…poem inspired by read write image #11, seen above, found at “readwritepoem”

 

The Hunger

 

 

The Hunger

•

filled with passion
you gaze longingly
upon the tender treat
that’s spread before you

waiting

the flesh is soft
and moist
and pink
as slowly you penetrate

then gently lift

you feel the quivering mass
slide full upon your prong
to turn
and eagerly lay
upon your bed of fire

the heat consumes
as juices flow

senses stir
while desire mounts

aroused in hungry anticipation
of the ultimate pleasure
and heady bliss

that is
a perfect loin

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…more poems of hungry passion found at “readwritepoem”

 

Vessel

…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”

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”