Tag: poem

Continuum

 

 

Continuum

•

emerald eyes stare

fix me in their grasp

lift me into the realm
of unfinished dreams

strip me of fear
longing
of inhibition

render me transparent
as I rise weightless
unburdened of care

an untethered being of pure moment
filled with universes within universes

a vessel of time and space
ever-expanding consciousness
aware of all

not as separate
but as the is – the was – the to become

with infinite reach
embracing the strand continuum

drawing it forward
reeling it back
in uninterrupted linearity

for no reason
but the being of its universal presence
its omnipotent here-ness
the infinite now

seeing through the emerald eyes
with crystalline gaze
I behold the beginning of the endless
touch what is not known
glimpse what cannot be now
but is forever

an epiphanal glance
at the mystery of fate
the why within the why

ever I ascend to realization
that the meaning of the mystery
is veiled in those emerald eyes

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

___________________________________

…photorendering at top entitled “Emerald Eyes” by: rob kistner © 2008

___________________________________

A BRAND NEW WORD: •Epiphanality – 1. The quality of transcendence and enlightenment that exists in something 2. the ability to transcend and rise above

 

…wonderful poems 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”

 

Seasons of Love

 

 

Seasons of Love

•

I take you in a park in May
in the cool Spring breeze at the end of day
on the silvered beach of a white-capped bay
at the mouth of a moonlit waterway

I take you in a tree-filled park
on a matt of fallen aspen bark
to the Summer song of a meadow lark
on a sunny day until the dark

I take you by the garden wall
in the dappled shade of a willow tall
on the scattered down of its leafy sprawl
on a crisp, and heady day in Fall

I take you by the oaken mill
‘neath an autumn tree on a grassy hill
I will take you in the early chill
when our Winter comes — I will take you still

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…wonderful poems found at “readwritepoem”

 

Faster Faster

 

 

Faster Faster

•

lay down your weight
put down your worry
slow down your pace
cease with your hurry

soon you will get there
life rushes by
you wonder when
so harder you try

to fill up what’s empty
as faster you fly
wondering when…
who’s wondering why

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…art piece entitled “Faster Faster” by: rob kistner © 2009

 

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.

Drawn

 

Drawn

•

seduced by the fog
I seek the mystery
it enshrouds

always just ahead
round the bend
over the hill

behind the heavy gate

my ears prick
to its distant call
just beyond clarity

my heart longs

my soul is drawn
to the unknown
down the path
around the curve
over the crest
into the mist

where
shut away

the clarion awaits

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

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

 

So Good

• Here is a bit of lighthearted noir tongue-in-cheek…

So Good

•

do not take this as precocious
but in business I’m ferocious

I wheel the deal with an artist’s feel
I rip the meat down to the bone

if I do say so – I’m incredible
so good, I’m almost edible

brains and brawn, I’m bright as the dawn
I’m on my game and in the zone

unyielding in a meeting
I administer a beating

I kill their will, I’m king of the hill
my demeanor is cold as stone

I am hungry and I’m ruthless
while the others all seem toothless

they hop, then drop, it’s me at the top
yes at the top I stand alone

at the top

I am

alone

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

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