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

 

Fashion Faux Pas

NaPoMo poem #23

This is the twenty third of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.

This is a bit of whimsy inspired by the read write poem NaMoWriMo prompt #23, “a different hat”.

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

 

Fashion Faux Pas

(‘hoot’ couture)

•

I see you smirking at my hat
it’s aluminum foil – imagine that
it helps with my cell phone reception
and fascinates my cat

keeps UV rays off my bald cranium
collects morning dew for my geraniums
makes me invisible to radar
and impervious to uranium

when wearing it I’m seen from space
the reflection helps conceal my face
when raining it will never rust
it’s aerodynamic if I run a race

it made my paper’s style page
and it will soon be all the rage
the good news — one size fits all
and it’s great to line your birdcage

so don’t make fun of my chapeau
it’s great for people on the go
and quite handy if you’re grilling out
or wrapping take home from the bistro

a tip in closing I will bestow
don’t use tin, it’s crass and low
folks will stare and shake their head
tin is such a fashion ‘no’

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

For Granted

NaPoMo poem #22

This is twenty second 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 an homage to Gaia, our mother earth, in celebration of Earth Day 2009. Embedded within this free verse poem are a trio of haiku, each focused at our earth.

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

 

Earth Day 2009

For Granted

•

you prepare for sleep
each night

consciously
or unconsciously

confident of gravity

that it will keep you
anchored
in your bed

snug in your bed

that you won’t wake
to find yourself
having floated off

now entangled
in the sweeping branches
of the willow
in the backyard

that wonderful weeping willow
always bending
and swaying

like some sinewy
sap-laden
great elephant

trundling
great elephant

trundling
and swaying

on the lookout
for water
in the arid
african bush

such majestic
mysterious
beautifully dangerous bush

in africa
the amazing dark continent

with zebras
and giraffes
and lions

and of course
elephants

in africa
in the earth’s
southern hemisphere

and all of this
kept firmly aground
by earth’s gravity

pretty astounding
when you consider

earth hurtles through space
eighty times the speed of sound
racing toward hope

our frail earth needs hope
desperately it needs help
it is in trouble

our earth’s crying out
it’s balance has been disturbed
we humans don’t hear

all we ever think about
is bed

money and bed

and gravity

and then
often only in passing

when we’re not
simply
taking it for granted

the earth
and all these incredible things
for granted

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Chilling Reality

NaPoMo poem #13

This is the thirteenth 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.

It’s a bit of poetic whimsy inspired by a Wordle posted on the read write poem site.

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

 

Chilling Reality

•

the green ice machine
in the room
by the hotel pool

you know the one
that produces
the briny tasting cubes
with the acute odor of cod

well somehow
it single-handedly
achieved singularity
around 11:00 PM
last night

and
in a jubilant frenzy
ran down the stairs
freely spewing its contents

then it burst
through the main lobby
and slipped
out the front door

but before it departed
it proceeded to impugn
the candy machine
claiming it was a changeling

insisting that in fact
it was a cigarette machine
only masquerading
as sweet
and innocent

but I’m not certain
that ice machine
can be trusted

granted
it’s cool

but I always thought
something was fishy
about that apparatus
and always
took what it said
with a grain of salt

• • •

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

 

Val

NaPoMo poem #10

This is the tenth 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.

Suggested by read write poem as a poem for day 10 of National Poetry Month; this type is known as a ‘found poem’. Passages here are borrowed from the pages of Robert A. Heinlein’s science fiction masterpiece, “Stranger in a Strange Land”. While still holding fast to the spirit of Heinlein’s novel, I’ve slightly rearranged, and mildly embellished the text to create this piece entitled “Val”.

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

 

Val

•

valentine michael smith
was a most intelligent creature
a son
of deep space pioneers

he lived an alien
on the far frontier
his ancestry was human

raised on mars
by planet natives
he thought and felt
quite martian
he’d never laid eyes
on man

brought to earth
by scientists
who knew not
how to grok* smith
who knew not
how not to
and quickly grokked
the madhouse planet

he understood earth
and its suffering
so thoroughly
it became his own

it nearly drove him crazy

heartfelt
val reached out
to spread enlightenment

for this
he was despised

feared and hated
quite ungrokked
smith was sadly slain

his death was brutal
he died as he lived
a stranger
in a strange land

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

*Grok – to understand so thoroughly, the observer becomes part of the observed

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Ziggy

NaPoMo poem #7

This is the seventh 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.

 

Ziggy

•

ivory silk french-cuffed bar-collared shirt
soft as butter sweet as cream dessert

cuff links of diamonds and pure white gold
a heady treasure – bourgeois and bold

pearl-stick-pinned satin tie knotted tight
elegant as paris on a saturday night

desert-tan gabardine three-pleat slacks
euro-cuffed razor-creased sharp as tacks

snakeskin braces buttoned sterling bright
hip and killer as a rattler’s bite

black-patton striders with alligator spats
steppin’ out classy as the coolest cats

fine pinstriped linen coat double-breasted
uptown savvy and velvet vested

full-blocked rolled-brim felt chapeau
in the deepest red of a fine bordeaux

he was crisp and smooth as a dry martini
they all called him ziggy
but his name was bob

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

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”

 

Goodgolicous

 

…this jabberwockical poem was inspired by prompt #68 at “readwritepoem”

 

 

Goodgolicous

•

a sweeply fine mirrormiz
with softical smile
swings a steply swell stutlybounce
in rare gurlygood style

such a scorchiful bodiface
as might burnlybad be
enstokes sultrification
that erosinates me

my steamliful brightenblinks
are maxfirenly dazened
by the engorgenality
she orbnously blazened

from dreamyton’s realmenhood
zoomens seductication
as my pumpinred’s forcliness
slammens enthrobination

bit I won’t slobbernly droolenate
on her poutifuss chubens
nor tenderliciously ogglenate
her mygodli bububbin

it’s lewdaciously nixated
to zing lovlustingly
so I slumberlush fair gurlygood
lasilkenously

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

Killer

 

Killer

•

…put two bullets in his brain

I shot him twice
at close range

to witness
the power of life
crossing over

and

to feel him die…

cool precision
in a quite rage

sacred act
of raw release

purity of instinct

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

•

NOTE: The poem above was written in response to the prompt, “The Other Side” — posted by the Totally Optional Prompt writing prompt blog. We were asked to write a poem from the point of view of a bad person. It could be someone from history, legend, or fiction; it could be someone who’s alive and making headlines. Regardless, someone whose acts you consider criminal or reprehensible.

*The man and his actions, as depicted in this poem, are totally fictional — and purely evil.

Poems of the heart…

 

Following here you will find a whimsical poem entitled “Heartbreaker”, and humorous haiku entitled “The Color of Love”, each inspired by this Kyknoord illustration, which is offered as a visual prompt at “readwritepoem”.

 

Heartbreaker

•

this is a broken heart you see
this broken heart belongs to me
it once was vital whole and strong
‘till one day beauty came along

she reached in and stole my heart
but fickle beauty did depart
she’d found a better heart she said
and left mine hanging by a thread

my heart grew heavy with her farewell
my heart-thread snapped and down it fell
my fragile heart crashed to the ground
pieces shattered all around

I’ve tried hard to make it whole again
but I’m not sure how, and can’t say when
so it’s still a broken heart you see
a broken heart that belongs to me

• • •

 

The Color of Love

A HAIKU

•

May, the month of love

red, the color of love — yikes

I’m touching my heart

• • •

“Heartbreaker” and “The Color of Love” written by: rob kistner © 2008

 

Outrageous

Outrageous

•

watch them

see them
in their cavernous dwellings

shrines to excess
to waste

testaments to foolish disregard
for our precious planet

observe them hoist themselves
to command positions
in gluttonous drive-time dinosaurs

dreaded treaded behemoths

that bully across the face
of our crippled planet

devouring resources
like a herd
of metallic mastodons

a relentless forage
of fragile fossil fuel

to suck dry
the paleozoic nectar

300 million years
in the making

a fraction of that
in the plunder
and depletion

by frivolous toys
of self-extinction

that spew forth
poisonous discharge

fouling the atmosphere

pummeling our frail ecosystem

shoving earth closer
ever closer
to the brink of no return

to satisfy a toxic desire
for bigger
gaudier
faster

hungrier

to feed
a caustic ego

to assert
perceived dominion

they are the elite
the special

the outrageously dangerous

they
are you and I

• • •

rob kistner © 2008