mystery – Image & Verse

The Edge

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “The Edge” by: rob kistner © 8/15/24

Standing at the edge
feeling far below
the great tides

the ebb and flow
the rise and fall

the come and go of centuries
of millenniums
wave by wave
day by day
as it has always been

this might incarnate
this power of indifference
this surge of perfect apathy

and I
as insignificant as the grain of sand
bounced and tumbled
dragged helpless in the undertow

a great froth crested wave
rises up in beckon
the silk of azure blue
draped smoothly down its sloping back
as it dances on the deep

how easy I could slip
into that fathomed realm

down
down
ever down
into the waiting silence
without so much a noticed sound
quiet as a breaking heart

absorbed into the churn and roar
without so much a ripple
to disturb the steady surf

a subtle crease
irrelevant
erased
even as it came

rob kistner © 2011
originally linked at Magpie Tales

More poetry at: dVerse

The Lotus

~ the dream goes on forever ~

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “The Lotus” by: rob kistner © 8/7/24

Dream with me my love
love is the magic we will seek

seek it until the end of days
days numbering to eternity

eternity — where love’s magic hides
hides in the folds of the lotus

lotus petals — love’s open wings
wings of pure beauty and truth

truth — the key to perfect surrender
surrender is the secret of love’s dream
dream that goes on — forever

Original DDE™ surrealistic art entitled “For You Love”
by: rob kistner © 8/7/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

More dreams at: dVerse

Pepper’d Memories

Yes — I was the walrus
so too the fool on the hill
I was the nowhere man
sometime I feel nowhere still

but when the Fab4 took the stage
and raised their voice in song
they roused my golden slumber
my spirit sang along

I strolled to strawberry fields
along sweet penny lane
and when miss Rigby died
I felt McKenzie’s pain

stowed in the submarine
and sailed beneath the waves
down with the octopus
among the coral caves

and when the sergeant
struck up his lonely hearts club band
I fell in step by step
to march off to Pepperland

but before I’d hit the road
I ended up wounded in my bed
a delinquent name of Maxwell
took a hammer to my head

he’d come through the bathroom window
I forgot to shut it tight
I should have known better
but it’d been a hard day’s night

my friends had called for help
doctor Robert came in time
I’d said doc don’t let down
he did not — and I feel fine

cops searched helter skelter
looked here there and everywhere
but they found clues for no one
I said let it be I didn’t care

leaving home, you won’t see me
I said heading out the door
when I saw her standing there
my lover from the night before

oh darling let’s go day trippin’
I want to hold your hand
down this long and winding road
it won’t be long to Pepperland

now we’ve come together here
me and my sweet belle Michelle
she’s been writing paperback novels
the kind the drugstores sell

we have no plans to get back
we’re swept up in the allure
of Lucy and her diamond skies
on our magical mystery tour

even with George and Johnny dead
that old magic’s not yet slipped away
because old Paully‘s discovered AI
so a brand new tune is on the way

it will be so very cool
to hear them once again
to remember those wondrous days
get to relive them now and then

*
rob kistner © 4/5/11
expanded version: rob kistner © 6/13/23

Poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/oz3JlMhgfq0

Love’s Summer Serenade / Seaside

These first written & published for NaPoWriMo 2010

Love’s Summer Serenade

sing to me my sweet sweet lover
songs as soft as silk and satin
sensual as a bare embrace
warm summer sun upon our face

promise me the world is ours
that this perfect moment’s endless
lift me up on rapture’s cloud
my racing heart is pounding loud

make melody set sail our souls
fill our hearts with passion’s fire
smother me in scorched sweet kisses
oh what a fiery bliss this is

come to me and take me timeless
sweep me off to ecstasy
enfold me in your deepest dreams
simmering under summer moonbeams

so hot we’re looking for some shade
aflame in love’s sensual serenade

Seaside

soft sand warms bare toes

senses stirred by surging surf

summer at seaside

love as fresh as ocean breeze

kisses hot as sizz’ling sun

*
rob kistner © 2010
revised © 2023

More poetry at: dVerse

Spellbound

poet
you are enigma

darkness and shadow
you veil and shroud

fire and light
you burn and incandesce

torch my essence
burn deep my soul
trouble my spirit
unsettle my being

then poet
ignite my wonder

whet my seeker’s vessel
with need
to be filled full

poet
at once familiar
yet
exotically foreign
wonderfully strange

wrongly boxed but
exquisitely wrapped

in angst
indignation
longing
discovery
loss

in love

with all these
and infinitely more
you reach an empty place
deep within

echoing my past
awakening my myths

exposing
that which I embrace
in the moment
as truth

refocus me

stirring my pain
my anger
my loneliness

my hope

offering just enough answer
that I combust with question
sacred uncertainty

I’m held
suspended in inquiry
in memories of neverwas

enrapt by your careful words
transfixed by mystery
elevated by insight
impaled by vision

spellbound

Frozen Man

Vote = Voice — Speak Up! 2CC45105-E580-4197-9120-35D724A74CF8

Voting HELP: CLICK HERE

Stopping Is No Option

— QUADRILLE —

Stopping is no option

giving up
is giving in
grip letting go of dreams

frozen is the frightened man
withered in a worried cage

happy is a voting man
a hero heard and heeded

stopping is no option
for the times
they are a’changin’

~ ~

— COMPLETE VERSION —

* Watch me read Frozen Man complete version: CLICK HERE

Stopping is no option

to lose the way is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one atrophies
rigid with despair
paralyzed with doubt
locked in hopelessness
bound by fear

the giving up
is the giving in
is the rot that sets
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go of dreams

loss of faith debilitates the soul
cripples the manifest light
that shines so bright
at the leap into sacred uncertainty
so bright
as to boldly illuminate truth

frozen is the frightened man
withered in a worried cage

terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way unmarked

wounded by fear
bleeding out the color of life
hemorrhaging joy
exsanguinating possibility

a cold brittled husk
mired in regret
for never having shone so brightly
as to blind the eyes of death
as to light the way of truth

valiant is a voting man
a hero heard and heeded
a cry of dissatisfaction
a voice of change
a stand for defiance

stopping is no option

so senators and congressmen
you best heed the call
don’t stand in the doorway
don’t block up the hall
for they that will lose
will be they who have stalled

so brothers and sisters
raise up your hand
let it be known
throughout the land
if we want change
we must take a stand

NO
stopping is no option

for the times
they are a-changin’

~ ~ ~

https://youtu.be/wZ9drv78dCQ

NOTE: To read more about folly: CLICK HERE

“This is the 4th anniversary of my wife Kathleen and I moving to Seattle to be with our grandson Alex. I posted this new piece containing mindful reflections on leaving our home in Oregon, and our new Seattle home. The photos are of our Oregon yard in the Cascade Mountain foothills. That is my wife Kathy standing under, and peering up into our 2 giant banana palms. The poem is just below the photos.“

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E280E402-14C8-4DF8-BE06-05995B79BDD1

8406EEC5-F134-4D0F-AF92-19D3B1F79A86

Time’s Window~

we now have a wonderful
new Seattle home
shared with family
ruled by my little guy
my precious 6-year-old grandson
and I know sweet happiness

but there are moments
with eyes closed
I can gaze back
through time’s window

I see my beloved Oregon home
of 25 amazing years
vividly alive this morning
here in my memories…

through my window this day
I see the scurry of creatures
warmed by the Oregon summer

I hear nature
in splendid voice

the chuff
of a tree’d red squirrel

the song
chirp
and trill of birds

chickadee
goldfinch
western bluebird
and others

fly
flutter
and flit

in a flash of orange
a striking northern flicker
momentarily eschewing insects
is peck peck pecking
cracking black-oil sunflower seeds
that spill from our feeder

a red-tailed hawk
calls
from atop a Sitka spruce
swaying
in the crisp blue sky

the muffled belling of a deer
wandering the safety of old-growth
whispers
through the foothills

the distant bark
of a neighbor’s dog
echoing the basin
up along our stream
reminds me
we have friends nearby

my wife’s
gentle laughter
validates the friendship

her tender smile
validates our love

the rustle of leaves
stirred by the breeze
wafting through the valley

smartly punctuated
by the staccato
of conifer cones
that fall
from time to time
wrested free by chickaree
and chipmunk
chattering high in Douglas fir
busy with their forage

wap wap wap

they bounce off our roof
striking the ground

closely followed
by the scamper
of their liberators
crunching their way
to the heart-meat of the cone
the delicacy
that elicits this furious industry

drifting in the window
intoxicating fragrances

cedar
pine
fir

lily
rose
lilac

grasses
loam
and more

a rich
earthy bouquet

caught in my reverie
I breathe in
deeply
to suddenly remember

…I’m not in my Oregon home
I am in my new Seattle home
and it’s filled to overflowing
with family
and love

for a moment
I do not open my eyes
I linger a bit longer
in my beautiful dream
of my Oregon

my heart will forever be there
but we will likely never go back
not until my ashes are spread
high in the Cascade Mountains
on Mt. Hood
across breathtaking Lost Lake

but here
now
on this day
filled with memories
and joy
a solitary tear
falls

~ ~ ~

This new write was a remarkably mind purifying write for me. Click to see how others are purifying their minds on dVerse:

Poetics- Purifying the Mind

Click to check out the haps at Toads

Fire Mark

This is a long-form, free verse poem, contemplating the post-apocalyptic ‘last person on earth’ theme, the “omega man” concept. This is a sobering take on the end of the world. It is also a love story, love lost that is.”

Fire Mark

I remember when it happened
remember well
the all-defining fire mark in time
that forever divided then from now

comfortably alone
walking up along the forested valley
that is our property line at the back
my eyes drifting up the azure waters
of the clear mountain stream
that rolled towards me crisp and pure

at the instant of the startling sound
the strange light
I cast my eyes to the very tops of the Douglas Firs

they stand proud at the river’s edge
sentries for centuries
protecting this northern boundary of our lands
steady and enduring
yet always supple in the winds that waft and quicken
whispering the breath of life
into this pristine realm

then came the second blinding flash
lighting the entire sky

tears glistened
the damned fools had finally done it

two years on now since that ominous event
but I never can forget the bone chill
that penetrating feeling

in those moments I knew
the cities were vaporized
I was isolated
alone
but how alone

too long now
since I have shared this vast beauty
with another’s eyes
with her eyes
with any eyes
or found my voice to exclaim its wonders

yet I still ramble the valley
wade the stream
given to an ever-rolling mumble
jabbering quietly to no one in particular
at the ragged edge of coherence
clinging to the chance
I might be rewarded with a response
her response
any response

but she had gone to the ciy
so only comes the murmur of the constant stream
carried on the season’s breezes

I have held my mind in good humor
bound by the glory of this land I wander
tethered to the waning hope
that she is not gone
that they all can’t possibly be gone
a hope buoyed by the majesty of these forests
that climb their way skyward
with the patience and persistence of the ages

but each day
a horrifying realization
grows in my mind
suffocating my soul

they are gone
every ~ last ~ one
gone

can I last
have I that patience
how long can I hold center
when comes my personal fire mark
my sunset

how long until my fragile psyche unravels
scrambling in lonely panic
seeking human contact

tonight I will sit alone again
in my room
in the soft light of the fire
the only light and warmth possible
since that fateful point in time
when the world’s infrastructure
collapsed

alone
month after month
in the smothering silence
in the maddening quiet
of this voiceless world
in which nowhere can be found
her eyes
any eyes

in which
never again will I hear
a simple

”hello”

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 8/17/12
revised © 5/18/19

Hi! I’m Edgrrr, rob’s shih tzu.

And So

“sweet memories of my youth”

And So

and so
I think of her
and wonder

what was the fire
that burned so bright
and raged so fierce
as to consume complete

our essence
left embered char
smoldered ashen

that in its heat
and fury
could not sustain

back I drift
to fall upon
the tenderness of youth

the satin skin
the comely gaze
the velvet touch

a silken voice
rising
to lust and longing

to impatience

to immortality

its soulful siren
so seductive
the nectar of all forbidden

the breathless joy
of sweet innocence

when the wonder
stirs to every mystery
and the spirit lights
to every spark

igniting passion’s pyre

to leave one spent
in blissful ruin
at story’s end

tender memory
of the throaty whispers
of promised pleasures
sweetly secreted
in her virgin kiss

and so
I think of her

remembering
with no regret

savoring the subtle linger
harbored in my heart
of the taste
of her lips

long ago
at seventeen

~ ~

“lips lush as cognac
open softly to kisses
urgently linger”

~ ~ ~

________________

click here to read more poetry at dVerse

Clarion Stones

revised for Lillian at dVerse Poet’s Pub

Clarion Stones

all those years ago
in the time of dangers
they were placed in secret
as a silent beacon
in that deepest night

waiting for the day
when the shadowed world
would waken from the nightmare
shed its narrow petty ways
and embrace the way of light

stacked by those of vision
blessed in hope and courage
one upon the other
like knowledge upon learning
these standing stones of peace

hear them call across the ages
and beckon us to rise
to step into the future
to envision a new dream
to let fear and hatred cease

~ ~ ~

stacked stones in Sedona red-rock desert

_______________________

These sculptures are called cairns. A cairn is a human-made balanced stack of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Cairns have been, and still are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present. They are stacked as landmarks, direction finders, memorials, and also spiritual reasons, among other purposes.

Check out more shedding at dVerse:

Shed some light on this today!

Daredevil’s Dread

~
to be shot from a cannon
into the cool night air
is really no big deal

to face a barrage
of flying knives
isn’t really that unreal

to leap through the fire
of a flaming hoop
the warmth is kind’a nice

jumping giant chasms
on two-wheeled fury
sure – let’s do it twice

to be blown up
in a speeding car
sort’a turns me on

falling 20-story
from a skyscraper
I’m up over and gone

riding upside down
on an airplane wing
it’s the only way to fly

the high trapeze
without a net
I wouldn’t bat an eye

buried alive
in a padlocked tomb
count 10 and I’ll cheat death

chained in steel
tossed in the sea
no need to hold my breath

the sphere of fear
the dome of doom
the bungee-cord freefall

to walk blazing coals
swallow deadly swords
no sweat — I’ve done them all

almost nothing scares
this bold daredevil
I am very proud to say

save the single thing
of which I’m terrified

to give my heart away

~ ~ ~

____________________________________

top 2 photos: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus

bottom photo: source unknown

Lost Meditations

Lost Meditations

lost meditations resurface
in these november years

reflections of mysteries once pondered
beauty beheld
of veiled truth pursued

in quiet depth
disturbed only by faint breath
beckoning me inward
to the bright center of joy

where a flutter of understanding
in a snap-flash of oneness
shudders me conscious
in shivering anticipation
of that which is not known

that which cannot be named
in the twilight of this finite
as threads of evermore
bind fast my dreams
to carry them onward
effortlessly

I gently surrender
as lost meditations resurface
in my november years

~ ~ ~

__________________

Click here to read more poetry at dVerse

Cloistered

This piece deals with the strange duality we all carry with us through life, the unique contradiction between the person we think we are, and the ‘many’ other persons others perceive us to be from their experience of us, as filtered through their differing individual perceptions. Fair or not, convenient or not, we are ‘judged’. Our lives are impacted to one degree or another, every day by how we measure up to each of these interpretations of the “I” we are thought to be. This includes the “I” we perceive ourselves to be. Which one is real, is valid, or is any one of them truly definitive? The phrase “I am” presents a fascinating philosophical quandary.

image by René Magritte

Cloistered

when another
tells you of yourself
you’re shown the dance they see
your outward choreography

but you hear not of the music
that rings true in your mind
that leads and drives the steps
to this inward dance they’re blind

you are shown the reflection
not the light that shines inside
that illuminates your soul
to guide your steps and stride

are we the I that we know
the self that we so treasure
or are we in fact the other
the one the others measure

for if the valid I
be the one that is most known
then we are in fact that I
the one to ourselves not shown

for surely when compared
the majority story shared
is of the outward other
the one seen by another

and so we live our life
cloistered in this other
and live this life alone
even when by many known
for the I that’s outward shown
is the I that’s not our own

~ ~ ~

Morphling

image by Francesca Woodman

Morphling

I will not be confined
always in motion
eternal ebb and flow
perpetual like the seas

my spirit an eternal liquid
in everlasting flux
expands unrestrained
seeking freedom

I will not be defined
my nature is fluid
my essence is turbulent
deep but ever changing

my heart in constant surge
challenges boundary
seeking balance that is mine
to change at will

reach not for me
I will not be held
do not name me
I will not be yours

~ ~ ~

Perception’s Window

artwork by Jack Vettriano

Perception’s Window

we are infinite beings
awaking slowly
from some infinite place

our coming to be
unknown to us as any mystery
our essence an enigma

learned in stories
in waiting relationships
gradually we open to our identity

awareness dawns
like the rising of a newborn sun
breaking on our window of perception

we feel its warmth
and flow effortlessly into timelessness
as though immortal

we see not over the horizon
for we see no horizon
but limitless eternity

we comprehend no end
immersed only in the now
given of our origin

it is therein exists the miracle of life
we are infinite beings in this moment
dreaming to sustain the moment

~ ~ ~