Infinatum

 

 

Infinatum

•

…this is an ecstatic poem echoing the mystic tradition…

their fire and light
incandesce my essence
burn deep my soul
stir my spirit
unsettle my being
ignite my wonder

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

at once familiar
yet exotically foreign
strangely boxed
but exquisitely wrapped
in longing
loss
love
and infinitely more

they reach to a hollow place
deep within
echoing a past
awakening a myth
exposing that which I embrace
in the moment
as truth

stirring my pain
my loneliness
my hope

offering just enough answer
that I combust with questions
sacred uncertainties

suspended in inquiry
in memories of neverwas
recognition of evermore
enrapt in blissful cognizance
of that which is not known

I am transfixed by mystery
elevated by insight
impaled by vision

spellbound

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• artwork entitled “Infinity Portal” by: rob kistner © 2010

___________________________

…you can find more cognizance at One Single Impression

NaPoWriMo #5 – Kathleen / Blossoms

This is my fifth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

____________________________________




 

Kathleen

•

he has kept it locked for so long
none can pass
his grief makes certain none will try

this is a dark forbidden place
high-walled
cold and barren
unyielding
lifeless

brutal night has fallen
no sun can penetrate

the darkness soothes him
he retreats into its depths
hiding
shielded from any further pain

but see
a shadow falls across the threshold
someone approaches

a comely being
warm and alive
lays gentle siege
threatening to breach his hardened fortress

but this lovely creature
fair and fragile
can not possibly gain entrance
must not

he will resist
this is wrong
this is trespass
this is cruel betrayal of his lost beloved

he has no right to leave this place of sorrow
no right

but his stronghold is succumbing
falling to this delicate advance

he is vulnerable
terrified
but it is useless to resist

searching with a patient heart
she has found the key
grasped in her loving hand
fingers tenderly enfold it

gently
she slides it into the lock
turning with great care

he is defenseless
he feels his heart slowly open
the long forgotten stir of love
begins to warm his soul

• • •





________________________




 

 

Blossoms

•

sweet pink blossoms fall

red spring buds will take their place

soon will be cherries

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

• photorendering entitled “The Key” – by: rob kistner © 2010
base image by: Getty Images
• photorendering entitled “Blossoms” – by rob kistner © 2010
base image by: Harold Davis
____________________________________

…for more personal NaPoWriMo 2010 poems: readwritepoem

Brushstrokes of the Heart

 

 

Brushstrokes of the Heart

•

we were beautiful
as a painted egg

smooth couple
balanced relationship
bright and colorful
lovely to behold

at arm’s length

but we grew hollow
superficial
fragile
brittle

too easily crushed

and once so
forever broken

no over-lacquer
of sustained love
to add substance

no second coating
of genuine honesty
to insure strength

we lost
the tender brushstrokes
of the heart

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…come see egg-zactly what’s breakin’ at Magpie Tales

La Difference



 

La Difference

•

I take her into my arms
she brings her lips to mine

I run my hands down her back
caressing the satin flesh
that tapers to my touch
until my fingers
gently cup the firm and tender
that swells and rises
atop taut lush velvet stems

we collapse in passion
folding into one another
her breath hot on my neck
as I whisper warm into her ear
vive la difference
my love
vive la difference

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photorendering entitled “The Embrace” – by: Getty Images
_______________________________

…catch the other differences at Carry On Tuesday

NaPoWriMo #4 – Now / Time To Smile

This is my fourth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

____________________________________

Nelle Lytle put forth a fascinating and challenging prompt at Read Write Prompt for day #4 of NaPoWriMo. We were to look at things inside out. At first I was perplexed. I kicked a number of ideas around and was hitting the wall, when it struck that inside out is a condition of perspective – a point from which things are viewed. You see one from the other.

I started thinking about situations in which I view one from the other, when it hit me – time! I continually view the “other” aspect of time from where I am… looking at the past or future while being in the present. That’s all it took. My muse (and Ram Dass) carried me from there.

I not only wrote a new poem, I created a new collage. Thanks Nelle! 😉

____________________________________




…collage above entitled “Time” by: rob kistner © 2010…

 

Now

•

the future — the past
tomorrow — yesterday
time’s not hard and fast
moments slip away

fretting what we miss
we ponder destiny
yet today is all there is
ever was — will ever be

days not yet arrived
ones that slipped away
not present in our lives
there only is today

can’t change what’s gone astray
or know what is to come
embrace what is this day
stop running to and from

forget the come and gone
all the who what when and how
don’t get lost looking beyond
learn to truly be here – NOW

• • •

________________________




 

Time To Smile

•

turning clocks forward

evenings last longer now

so too will my smile

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

• graphic rendering of smiling clock configured and colorized by: rob kistner

____________________________________

…for more poetic perspectives on NaPoWriMo 2010: readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #3 – The Leap / New Life

This is my third post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

____________________________________


…facing one’s fear…

 

The Leap

•

she need not be frightened
she knows the moves
sees the steps
clearly in her mind

she knows the stride
the position of her body
just before elevation

she understands the speed
the run up
the lead foot
the plant angle
the knee bend
the thrust

she has done this
literally thousands of repetitions
no need for trepidation

she knows the energy of the moment
of the crowd
as they anticipate
as she anticipates
the lift off
the rise

the glorious weightlessness
the thrill of flying
the feel of returning to earth
to her toes
her feet
how to offset the momentum

to snap to a graceful stop
come to point
straight and strong
arms raised and extended

the applause
that exhilaration

she knows this all
to her bones

she can do this
in her sleep

she has this mastered
she is a master dancer

but

that flash of doubt
and again
she fails

there is now one leap
she fears she cannot master

the leap
back through time
to her youth
to her glory
her invincibility

still
she leaps

she will always
leap

• • •

________________________

 

 

New Life

•

wife in her mud shoes

clatter in the potting shed

soon will come new life

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

____________________________________

…for more fearless NaPoWriMo 2010 poems: readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #2 – The Willow / Spring

This is my second post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku

____________________________________


Remembering Willow Pond…

 

The Willow

•

the old man sat quietly
day after day
hands resting on his knees
day after day
hardly moving

save to raise his hand
to brush his brow
or adjust his cap

day after day
quietly
on the same park bench
at the pond
near the same tree
same willow

you could watch him come
mid-morning

see him leave
at dinner time

day after day
sitting there
hands on his knees
quietly
same bench
same tree

one morning
as he sat there
I left my office
walked across the street
into the park
approached him
smiled
and sat down beside him
quietly

he said nothing
so we sat together
for a while
quietly
on the bench
by the tree

finally
I spoke up

why do you sit here
old man
sit here
everyday
day after day
here on this bench
watching the pond
so quietly

he tilts his head
speaks softly
I’ve come here for years
he says

but how can that be
I say
these office buildings
this park
they’re all new
how could you have come
to this park
for years

not to this park
he says
not to this park
to this tree
me
and all my friends
came to willow pond
to this tree
this old willow
for years
day after day

why
I ask
why to this tree

quiet smile
we played cards
in its shade

he explains
we talked
laughed
we listened
at the pond
in its wonderful shade
day after day
this wonderful willow

where are your friends
I ask
why are they not here
with you
on the bench

because
he hesitates
they are gone
he says finally
quietly

gone
gone where

I ask

gone
is all he says
quietly
unmoving
hands on his knees
all gone

oh
I say
I see

do you
is all he says

so why do you sit here
day after day

I ask

he stares straight ahead
and after a bit
he says
I’m listening

listening
I say
listening for what

he sits quietly
for a while
then
without changing his gaze
without raising his hands
from his knees
he says
for anything
anything familiar

a small tear
glistens
in the corner of his eye

• • •

________________________

 

 

Spring

•

purple finch sings out

budding trees are plentiful

spring is upon us

• • •

poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010

____________________________________

…for more NaPoWriMo 2010: readwritepoem

Caisson

 

 

Caisson

•

see you
see you in this carrion half-light
unworthy scavengers

you cluster to ravage
to defile the entity
drawn in this caisson

but you cannot

the living presence it bore
is greater than you

your gluttonness lust
might pick the meat clean
pick the bones dry

but this being has lived well beyond the muscle
beyond the sinew tendon and bone
these were its limits

now it is set free

so help yourself brother crow
sister raven
birds of black
help yourself

this essence has gone beyond
far beyond
to become infinite
pure thought
unbound spirit

what you pick apart is the afterimage
of a mortal now eternal

so take your fill crow
have your way raven
blackbird — do your best
engorge the glorious

then be gone
scatter
and far off

this caisson has delivered its miracle

unus est privatus

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________


…this piece inspired by readwritepoem

• photorendering entitled: “gathering” by: alice popkorn

Avatar

 

 

Avatar

•

you do not see
me

no shadow do I cast
that you perceive

no movement
to catch your eye

no color
no shape
no texture that is truly mine

you see
the avatar of your fantasy
the puppet of your desires
the specter of your lust

to you
I
am invisible

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

___________________________

• you can find more avatars at One Single Impression

…image found here

 

Flower

 

 

Flower

•

young flower fresh-bloomed
engorged with succulence
bursting with life’s urgency
vibrantly seductive

dewy lips of supple petal
lay open in offered sweet delight
velvet pistil of gentle blush
enwrapped in throat of golden hue

this vision of tender ecstasy
entices with a lilting sway
a fragrance to intoxicate
wafting from the luscious folds

breathing in the rich bouquet
all senses stirred and tantalized
my eyes embrace this visage rare
pleasured in the heady moment

captive by such vital beauty
consumed, one savors slowly
exquisitely delicious
this tender bud, full bloomed

• • •

 

Flower

(minimalist version)

•

young flower
fresh-bloomed
engorged
bursting
seductive

supple petals lay open
velvet pistil
soft in golden throat

lilting fragrant folds
stir the senses

consumed
one savors slowly

exquisite
this tender bud
full bloomed

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…come see what else is blooming at Magpie Tales

Bridge of Auras

 

 

Bridge of Auras

•

possessed of all it is I am
I breath a sigh of longing
and wish for what it is I’m not
across the bridge of auras

I covet not a kingly right
nor scepter gold to rule a realm
I seek to fill my barren soul
across the bridge of auras

worldly wealth is not my goal
nor power over minions
enlightenment is what I seek
across the bridge of auras

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

___________________________

• you can find more aura’s at One Single Impression

 

Demands

Two contemplations on the concept of demands:

 

Demands

•

the garment of demands
in which we’re dressed when we are young
is often awkward and ill-fitting

but the self-tailored cloak of expectation
we put on when we are grown
is far more difficult to wear

• • •

 

Legend

•

permit me to share the legend
of the man who rocked the world
luminescent — larger than life
his banner of fame unfurled

he confidently took each stage
flashed his skills with pride and power
his celebrity rocketed skyward
enormous talent, in his finest hour

a humble tempering childhood
helped him hone his mythic dream
a bright young man with wicked ‘chops’
he could make his guitars scream

his fame continued to grow
so too the demands upon his time
more nights, more travel, more concerts
but for his fans, he didn’t mind

his glory spread round the globe
renown and fortune grew unbound
like a rampant roaring wildfire
nothing it seemed would take him down

but terror struck while touring Europe
unleashing panic, fear & strife
bombs tore through the concert hall
to save his fans — he risk his life

the first blast ripped the back wall
mike in hand, he stood firm and fast
directing the people to safety
they all escaped — now he was last

it was horror in high definition
TV broadcast the heartbreaking sight
a question hung heavy over the chaos
did their hero meet death tonight

the sad truth was the top news story
the brave mega-star had died
all the world was seen to mourn
at candle vigils the people cried

so permit me to share this legend
of this remarkably brave young man
who, possessed of wealth and fame
truly never forgot the fan

• • •

poems and collage by: rob kistner © 2010

…this post was inspired by sunday scribblings

Magenta Lace

 

 

Magenta Lace

•

furtive strumpet nonpareil
fumbles from the motor-coach
cup of bacchus fondled lush
held close to velvet bodice

supple breast, soft loin and limbs
costumed for seduction
magenta lace and turquoise silk
kindles lust’s combustion

sweet undulation in a mirror mist
of moonlight on the midnight fog
beckons through the dewy fern
enticing — come enjoy

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________


…this piece inspired by a wordle at readwritepoem, and they all fit in quite wonderfully…

photo rendering entitled: “Sweet Strumpet”

The Book(s)

Two books that changed everything for me — “On The Road” by Jack Kerouac,

and “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” by Tom Wolfe.

I was a disenchanted-college-student-rock-musician and had just been awakened by the ’67 Summer of Love, when I came upon both of these books in the Spring of 1968 in a bookstore in Clifton, Ohio, just down from the Ludlow Garage, where my band, Stone Fox, had just opened for the Allman Brothers and Santana.

These books fueled my frustration with “the system”, sparked my wanderlust, and eventually found me and my three best friends, astride internal combustion iron horses, young men heading west — and thus began the rest of my life.

What these books represented was not a map for the rest of my life, I’m well beyond that angst. Rather, they’re important to me because they were the catalyst that first ignited my genuine independent thought, and empowered me to act on that thinking.

Following here is a poem I wrote which reflects, quite well, where my head was during that period. You can also click on the highlighted passage young men heading west in the previous paragraph to read a poem I wrote about the motorcycle journey.

 

Bohemian Nightfall

•

when night fell on bohemia
the streets were set ablaze
in black light
in strobe light

it was tie-dyed psychedelia
when night fell on bohemia

jack and neal were on the road
ridin’ with the fire-whores
of angst and indignation
like combustin’ carnal fireballs
when night fell on bohemia

allen was howlin’
pal’n with corso
and long’n for peter

hunter, groin deep
in the brain-drug flesh festival
…hunter was fearful
and loathing it all
when night fell on bohemia

bill, stark naked
was lunchin’ with the devil
jelly-rollin’ in a hell fire
when night fell on bohemia

gary headed for cold mountain
to watch it all from sourdough
electric bob went subterranean

me – stung by disenchantment
the swollen outlaw bastard
coming fast
hard as holy hell
cresting and crashing in
just as night fell on Bohemia

I was on my way
howling mad
and mind-expanded
in a rolling demon’s fire,
lighting the night
dancing with beelzebub
raving and blazing
hormone’d-hungry
lusting and longing to gorge
every forbidden morsel and crumb –

the smorgasborgadelic mindfeast

when night fell on bohemia
ken and tim
gathered up the faithful
on the magic bus
and stole off with the future

like pranksters

ever further

• • •
rob kistner © 2008

…this post was inspired by sunday scribblings

A’tremble

 

 

A’tremble

•

lilting golden
‘long an autumn lane
carried gentle
on the winds

the rustle of aspens
lush and hush

like the murmur
of whispered passion
from a lover’s lips
a’tremble with desire

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photo by: fred hanselmann ©
_______________________________

…to hear more murmurs go to One Single Impression