~
had she not appeared in that clearing
so lost
had she not crossed my threshold
on that september day
had not her voice
drifted like silk on a summer breeze
to wrap sheer and sweet
around my heart
had not I been drawn
like a bloom to the morning sun
had not I been captivated
as a hummingbird
by a drop of nectar
crystal on a velvet petal
had not my love come down
soft as a rolling mountain meadow
had not this dream been born
had not my life begun again
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2012
…to loved ones missed, now sadly departed…
•
•
here is the change
the forgetting
the slipping away
into the haze of memory
the frustration
of no longer being able
and still
the burning longing to…
remember
and you
dimming in this fog
midst the times we have cherished
the places we have loved
fading beyond reach
an ever-mounting loneliness
like so many vacant seats
empty
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
you came to me
deep in my summer
on the wings of spring
filled with hope and wonder
fresh and sweet
as nature’s nectar
you brought my heart to quicken
breathed new life
to fill my soul
awakening forgotten passion
the stir of dreams
the fire of joy
we’ve lived life in celebration
touched mystery
embraced the awe
never ran away from trouble
the good and bad
we faced head on
we’ve traveled now into our winter
a place of challenge
a time of change
though the chill is at the door
still we’re blessed
with nurtured warmth
no matter what life’s weather threatens
we’re ever wrapped
in love’s embrace
side by side as was our promise
together true
to journey’s end
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
do you hear the leaves rustle
do you hear my breath
whispering your name
do you hear my heart beat
do you hear my tears fall
or is it silent
silent as the light-less realm
that hauntingly engulfs my soul
silent as that night
when apples spilled
on the broken stair
where rail eluded
your grasping hand
silent as your futile cry
when no voice came
to grace your lips
tender lips
that parted gently
to hold my kiss
lips
that will not know again
sweet fruit
nor love
rob kistner © 2011
* linked 2011 at Magpie Tales
These are two poems about two powerful and indelible life-moments I shared with my son Justin.
The first “Night Sky” is about the courageous moment he chose, at age fourteen, to leave his mother’s home to move across our country, to live with me in Oregon — through the years of his high school and college graduations, and his early career. This was an incredible gift he gave me.
The second, “Book of Days”, is about the moment, two days ago, when he and his wife Christine, moved from Oregon to pursue a career advancement — a deeply bittersweet moment for me.
•
you arrived in spring
asking why I’d left
I had no good response
but the other shoe had fallen
with a deafening thud
so what was I to do
you looked startled by life
and asked me about sorrow
I had no good response
so I took you in
and watched as you untangled truth
marveling at your balance
for 19 years
together we watched the night sky
and wondered about love
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
in the book of days
clearly it is written
your time for moving on
beyond the reach of yesterday
in this book of days
so too is it written
clearly mine grow short
my grasp loosens on tomorrow
our miles apart grow greater
our time together lessens
as you pursue the future
I slip further in the past
and per the book of days
this is the way of nature
the son becomes the father
the father bows away
yet stands this father’s dream
would that this space between
but vanish with this pain
of bittersweet farewell
that the book somehow rewritten
would bend both time and space
and my days once more
stretch full to your horizon
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
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
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
•
time has etched a patina
on the heart of the sun
and marked my soul
with the scars of love and loss
equally deep
equally cherished
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
• linked at Magpie Tales
•
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:
•
the velvet nape
of your slender neck
swept with wisps
of silken hair
the tender swell
of your pouted lips
blossomed full
in comely glisten
your quiet sighs
of smouldered passion
hushed and low
in twilight deep
sterling moonlight
that fondles you
in slumber nude
‘neath midnight’s window
autumn sunrise
crisp and fresh
blushed coral
on your waking smile
sunlight’s gold
that falls dreamlike
filtered soft
in old growth forest
unspoiled nature
to far horizons
from where I gaze
on mountain’s crest
christmas eve
a quiet snow
fresh fragrant cedar
my child’s joy
splendid jazz
inspired verse
an evening breeze
a soul-felt tear
pristine beaches
pacific sunsets
silvered waterfalls
laughter with you
what fires my heart
what stirs my soul
what turns me on
these are a few
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
“One of my former band members, who was with me in the band in the 1960’s, that inspired this poem from 2011, came to visit me a couple months ago. I had written a haibun at the time in his honor, which I shared here on dVerse. That haibun was inspired by this original poem. I just learned that he died Monday in Geneva, Switzerland. In his memory I am sharing this original poem today, August 22, 2019.”
me and my bles-sed band
bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
mixin’ with fellow players
who’ve now
laid down their last licks
for this night
among willing groupies
the loud hangers on
and my sad friend Joey
just back from Viet Nam
we’re sittin’ and chattin’
with the steel-heart working girls
and sweet soul-bruised painted strippers
they love us ‘cause we’re brothers
in this family of the night
all in the flesh parade
of burnt drink slingers
and tired cocktail mules
hipsters grifters drifters
and slick gamblers
from behind the sealed doors
of those private upstairs rooms
swell perfumed boys
and sisters of the leather
queens and trannies
pimps pushers and the cops
huddled stark as morgue mates
hidin’ from those cruel first rays
like a pack of squandered vampires
ready to scurry off
to well-curtained rooms
or other dark holes of despair
it’s time to make that final score
whatever gets you through
‘till sundown strikes up the band again
I’ll tell ya
ain’t this show biz grand
it’s cirque du morning madness
all sneakin’ up on breakfast
rob kistner © 4/19/11
____________________________
This photo below put me in mind of the 60’s when my band played the all-night R&B clubs in Newport Ky — the ‘wild’ night-world just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati. It sparked this poem.
•
needles
hypodermic needles
needles needles needles
BD 30g
sterilized syringes
needles in my arms
needles in my legs
needles in my gut
needles six seven times a day
needles 3 am because
I forget the 11 pm needle
even tiny lances in my fingertips
to verify the needles needles work
needles so that I can see
needles so that I can pee
needles so my heart will beat
needles so I don’t lose my feet
needles so my blood will pump
clean as it can be
needles in my bathroom cupboard
needles in my car’s console
needles in my carry on
needles in the kitchen counter
needles in my sock drawer
needles often two at a time
needles by the box loads
coming in the mail
needles safe inside my sharps
then to the biohazard lane
needles on my night table
needles on my brain
needles in my waking dreams
needles in my nightmares
needles all day every day
needles torn from plastic bags
needles plastic caps pulled free
needles piercing chill glass vials
needles units measured carefully
needles so that I can live
for one more day of needles
yes
needles
cleans
hypos
spikes
needles needles needles
• • •
rob kistner © 4.17.11
•
tonight
careful hands
peel back cracked
and yellowed protectant
from dark and aging pages
soured
in long-ignored
dusty albums
my wife is liberating memories
life moments
immortalized
faces and places
call from another time
a beautiful young bride
a proud new husband
our sweet children
living
and not
family and friends
here and gone
other visuals
strangely vague
yet hauntingly familiar
draw me
spark warm recall
remembered laughter
tears gratefully less bitter
captured images
collect on our coffee table
so too
do insistent emotions
cascading one by one
and all together
time
the grand thief
who would steal
the treasures of our heart
who would hold hostage
the moments of our journey
beautifully arrested
deeply moved
tears well and glisten
stirred by heartfelt gratitude
for this proof of life
proof
of love
• • •
rob kistner © 4.16.11
