Tag: passion

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

 

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

 

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

 

Elders

IMG_8654

 

Elders

____

reason’s blaze burned brightly
now nearly spent

insight’s coals cool
grow ashen
yet the core still dances deep amber

your flame of logic
once a vivid light
that pierced the darkness of ignorance
and narrow vision

that flared radiant
sparking inquiry

that shone as a bold beacon
a seeker’s torch
reduced now to ember

but still warming those
who draw near
and stir your smoldering wisdom

____
 
rob kistner © 2009

 

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

 

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”

 

The Vow

 

The Vow

•

I pledged I’d never leave your side
and whole my vow remains

as the passion of our love spilled forth
we drank deeply in our youth

the fire of our joined bliss
flowed molten from our core

as we made our fervent bond
its blaze grew ever brighter

it kindled dreams that carried us
to family and good fortune

its heat has warmed us in the times
when winds of fate turned cold

through the autumn of our life
its glow held back the chill

and as winter felled its quiet deep
we were drawn close in comfort

nurtured by the ever present
steady flame of love

now it is our time of rest
when worldly worries lift

we are one next to the other
in the embrace of mother earth

I pledged I’d never leave your side
and whole my vow remains

• • •

rob kistner © 2007

 

The Strike



The Strike

•

warm
familiar
comfortable in my palm
my fingers wrap natural cork
index raised
gauging line tension

precision brings the willow’d shaft
high above my shoulder
flexing expectantly

a flick of my wrist
and the rod arcs forward
increasing the pressure
on my fingertip
as it bends ahead
urgently
seeking release

then
a careful pluck
like a string
on a guitar

it is launched

the ultralight lure
golden at line’s end
sails silent
into the squinting summer sun

with a subtle plick
the barbless hunter disappears
slipping ‘neath the sparkle
of the undulating steam

seductively
I retrieve the bait
with quickening pulse
eagerly visualizing
anticipating the strike

patience draws the offering
alluringly
dancing ever nearer

I long for the sharp
powerful tug

for the slender thread
unreeled before me
to rise
and dart away
in a sliver of silver spray

for my heart to jump
as a proud trout
breaks water
victim to my seduction

in this moment
mind focused
breath steady
senses heightened
awaiting sudden contact

I reflect

there is a simple truth in fishing
as in life

the thrill of possibility
can be as rich
as the reward

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

• photorendering entitled “The Strike” by: rob kistner © 2008

Sacred

A hike into the Cascade Mountains, in image and verse.

Author’s note: It was a beautiful day for hiking here in Oregon, so I made a trek into the Mt. Hood wilderness — camera in hand, notebook and pen in my shirt pocket. This is my day, shared with you here, in image and verse. The photo is a shot of Lost Lake, through the trees, with Mt. Hood in reflection.

lostlake2.jpg

Sacred

•

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

feeling the smoothness of my walking stick
clutched comfortably in my right hand

an audible stir in the treetops

wind
wafting down the western Cascade slopes

invigorating

the steady rhythm of my footsteps

hypnotic

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

mesmerized

light drifts down dreamlike
filtered by the woodland canopy
settling golden around me

a power
a presence
is tangible

a breeze enfolds me

intoxicating

the scent of living earth
an addictive bouquet
cedar
Douglas fir
Ponderosa pine
moss
bark
loam
and ionized mountain air

my spirit rises
my being – weightless

I float away
lifted into oneness
wholeness

epiphonal

suddenly
I’m startled

a young doe bounds onto the trail
standing proud
golden in the light

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

my eyes dart to find her
here then there
in vain

I catch a glimpse
silver-blue
shimmering
where massive trees part

wind-blown mountain water
crisp
clear
it sparkles

Lost Lake
the namesake of this trail
my reason for this trek into wilderness

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

I face lake-ward
basking in the energy
of this natural cathedral

I become very still
listening
gazing

just being

in rapt wonderment
at the magnificence that surrounds me

this place is my church
this moment is my prayer

I am in touch with my soul

with the eternal

• • •

rob kistner © 2007