Tag: truth

The Collector

 

The Collector

•

this day as I journey
I come upon a stranger
standing by the road looking sad
heavy box held in his arms
clutched close to his breast

he stares into my eyes expressionless
his gaze stops me still
fixes me in place

his face is tired and drawn
etched in withered worry

when at last I move
I draw close enough to see
this sullen man is me

everyone is born with some special talent
he sighs
I am a collector
of tears shed in moonlight
the pain of love’s betrayal
the grief of empty lives

he concludes
and offers out his hands
that open on the box

he beckons me retrieve
this container he protects

filled with apprehension
I reach and grasp the case
lift it cautiously from his grip
lay it gently at my feet

it opens as I do
slowly
to reveal its strange contents

three lone broken hearts


mute with wonder I behold
confused yet riveted
I ponder haunted as I do
then inquire of the meaning

these are yours
I am told

created by your deeds
cruelly left behind
as coldly you moved on

each belonged to one who trusted you
a trust you did betray
without a second thought
love you tossed aside
abandoned carelessly

now the burden of this box
is mine beyond the grave

eyes lowered in fatigue he exhales

it was on a road like this
that it was passed to me
I have carried it too long
I am weary from the load

looking into my eyes he points

now you must bend and lift
and clutch it to your breast
to struggle with its weight
until you pass it on

searching the distance he goes on

someday a stranger will approach
over that horizon
he will stop and stare
transfixed by your presence

you will charge him with this chest
then he will lift and carry
as I do
in this cycle of forever

for he too
will be you

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photo collage entitled “Broken Broken Broken” – by: rob kistner © 2010
_______________________________

…see other special talents at Carry On Tuesday…

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…

Duet

Duet
•

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

mesmerized

awash in the warm brushstrokes of evening
filtered through this woodland realm
as the waning sun paints the world golden

below me
a pristine ribbon of silver-blue water
flecked with sunlight
sparkles like a strand of gems

transfixed
I marvel at the beauty
at the power
of this mighty river

as it tumbles in timeless clarity
over boulder and falls
ever onward

its lyric voice
beckons me

I come
entranced
stand immersed in its energy
captivated by its duet with the wind
that plays the boughs of the towering pines
singing down the lofty climbs
to gently brush my face
toss my hair
and dance past me round a bend
in perfect harmony

serenaded in this evensong
sunset has melted into moonrise
the waters ripple sterling in soft applause

the moon sets aglow this splendid concert
so I listen
spellbound

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

_____________________

• photographs taken near my home in the Cascade Mountain foothills

top photo entitled: “Sunlight on the Clackamas”
bottom photo entitled: “Moon over the Santiam”

_____________________

…this edited rewrite of an older work of mine was inspired by sunday scribblings…

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

 

Seven Red

NaPoMo poem-set #28

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

This set of seven haiku were inspired by the read write poem NaPoWriMo prompt #28, “Seeing Red”.

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

 

Seven Red

•

inquiries of heart
from summer red lover’s lips
float like butterflies

•

green leaves on blue pond
float in golden summer sun
red bird softly sings

•

golden sun burns bright
scorching the red rock canyon
Sedona summer

•

eyes red from crying
words cannot be taken back
she will leave today

•

a ruby droplet
the yellow rose bears sharp thorns
we will share red wine

•

path forked this spring morne
white-tails chose tall trees instead
redwoods are safety

•

spring snow-pack’s melting
fresh mountain stream tumbles clear
under red maples

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Unexpected

NaPoMo poem #27

This is the twenty seventh 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 edited rewrite of a older poem of mine and was inspired by a moving personal experience, offered here in response to the NaPoWriMo Wordle prompt #27 at read write poem.

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

 

Unexpected

•

unquestionable joy
in a place most unexpected
the crystalline eyes of an innocent
cruel society deems disabled

bent and stooped
impossibly twisted
confined to constant care
and his rolling metal chair

a hardscrabble life
that would drive a lesser soul
to lunacy

but his gentle eyes reflect a wonder
my jaded heart has long since lost
by arrogance extinguished

his timeless spirit knows only trust
it pours forth from his being

positioned close and cozy
to the modest stage
he is enraptured by the music
engulfed within the rhythm

enthralled by this magic
he is beaming
like an angel

the band plays fast
the band plays slow
the band plays loud
the band plays low

he rocks forward
he rolls backward
waves in jubilation
and launches heart and soul
into a wicked shoulder wiggle
as he vibrates unabashed
with pure delight

the veins of his neck
stand out full and proud
as he tosses back his head
uninhibited in laughter
tears of joy
leaking down his cheeks

his person full alive
his essence full aware
his nascent bliss aglow
he is wholly in the now

he is filled with every note
wrapped up in the cadence
sparked by the drumbeat
thrilled by every nuance

he experiences an ecstasy
at which I can only marvel
its clarity and power I can never know

it’s at this moment
that I realize
how much I do not understand

as I behold this able man

faint envy stirs
watching his unbridled joy

so complete
and unexpected

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Becoming

NaPoMo poem #26

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

This is my second metaphysical poem in two days, and was inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt # 26 at read write poem.

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

 

Becoming

•

as is the spark of birth
the burst of a seed
the first ray of dawn
the tug of love wakening
the moment of humility
the pen to blank page

so is the essence of becoming

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Being Now

NaPoMo poem #25

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

This was inspired by a prompt at read write poem to write a “how to” about something difficult to do.

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

 

Being Now

•

step gently through the dream-gate

take hold the strand continuum

ride the light that carries you

to the is, was, the will be

transcendence moment

when the all is one

in the perfection

of pure being

here now

alive

∞

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

My Words

NaPoMo poem #24

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

This is about a poet struggling with inspiration, pressing to break through writer’s block.

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

 

My Words

•

I released my words into the cold
they froze and cracked and splintered
which made them sharp and edged
and piercing

too difficult to handle

I thrust my words into the fire
they scorched and warped and blistered
which made them hot and rough
and coarse

too difficult to touch

I abandoned my words in the storm
they soaked and swelled and sagged
which made them bloat and droop
with heft

too difficult to hold

then I left my words quite well alone
in no adverse conditions

and light they rose up from my heart
and soft they rolled from off my tongue

and true they drifted through the air
where suspended souls could find them there

to take them in
and keep them safe
and treat them in a manner fair

to befriend them
in an honest way
until it was their time to share

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Dissonance

NaPoMo poem #24-A

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

This, like poem #24, is also about a poet struggling with inspiration, trying to block out the night noises and cacophony that surrounds him on a hot sticky night.

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

 

Dissonance

•

relentless whir
in cycled pulse
drones overhead

coarse whisper from above
promises relief
in vain

blades disturb page edges
at rest before me

in irregular rustle they taunt

impatient
untouched

no burden of remorse
no weight of mystery
do they bear

no sting of anger
no wink of mirth
with which to be dispatched

no coin of phrase to spend

dissonance
spills through the open window
the buzz, chirr, and leggy rasp
muffled keens
distant yelps

the edgy din of crawling
prowling night

intrudes in damp insistence
to fill my head
and leave not one small space
for wit or insight

all in vain
there is no relief

nothing clever
or profound
in the air this night

hot, sticky, thick

uninspired

• • •

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

 

Our Dreams

NaPoMo poem #21

This is twenty first 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 wedding prayer inspired by the read write poem NaMoWriMo prompt #21, “rite of passage”.

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

 

Our Dreams

(a wedding prayer)

•

we place our dreams in our open palms
so the winds of fortune
will make them soar

we bless our dreams with the gift of song
so their chords are sweet
and their sound is pure

we bestow our dreams the wings of faith
so they lift and carry
to wisdom’s shore

we unite our dreams this blessed day
so love will bind them
forevermore

• • •

 

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Spellbound

NaPoMo poem #20

This is the twentieth of the poems I will write this 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.

 

This poem was inspired by the image below entitled “The Bride Wore Red”, by Pareeerica…

Spellbound

•

scarlet lady in crimson silk
a beauty to mesmerize
sculpted by a master’s hand
so seductive as to scandalize

a stare of comely crystal blue
floats above a ruby pout
spellbound by her magic eyes
she holds your soul with no way out

her tongue tip teases her top lip’s edge
like a supple paintbrush flowing
her smile will pierce and hypnotize
then wrap around you knowing

you are now her helpless captive
quite hopelessly addicted
in the velvet grip of her mystery
is she an angle or is she wicked

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

I will Not Forget

NaPoMo poem #19

This is the nineteenth 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 edited rewrite of an older poem I’d written, but not completed to my satisfaction. Today’s prompt brought such deep feelings flooding into my heart, I was compelled to revisit the draft of this work and bring it to a fitting completion. I am very pleased with how it has turned out.

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

 

I Will Not Forget

(rappelé toujours)

•

there are days I still can feel
the breeze of youth gently stir my soul

days remembered of grace and lightness
when faith in truth sparked splendid dreams

those days of you

when all we touched was fresh and new
and the world was full of wonder

when we were certain we’d live forever
our strength made each day a great adventure

those carefree days

the days we witnessed one for the other
as we made vows to our chosen life mates
raised our children
grew our careers
our families close through these days of joy

but not these days

I’ve grown unyielding
rigidly braced
against the winds of time and fate

my soul is rooted in life’s demands
I search its blessings
curse its burdens

these brittle days

I am bent by the yoke of worry
heavy with the weight of loss

I am haunted by the ghost of memory
the lonely days when I think of you

these empty days

how can this void be filled
when one so vital has departed

this world was denied much wit and wisdom
kindness and love lost
when you passed

how can this void be filled
when one so rich in these is gone

one who understood the need for giving
in a careless world darkened by greed

a tender heart
truly unselfish
whose warm embrace included all

how can this void be filled
when a brilliant light has been snuffed out

I will not forget

I will remember you
and all those days
that’s how I will fill this void

with the seeds of friendship
you planted deep inside my heart
now filled with grief

may they grow to make me gentler
and me — the world a better place

good-bye my friend

ever will I tend these seeds
and think of you

I will not forget

• • •

 

rob kistner © 2009

___________________________

• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Stir of Love

IMG_8652

 

Stir Of Love

____

he has kept it locked for so long
the horror of that night
holds the seal tight

the memory riveted
securely barring entry
none can pass

his bitter resolve
makes certain none will try

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

a wasteland of the lost
inhabited by the dead

the gate grown over
by a tangle of grief and anger

any memory
of a once vital presence
of a living breath
of warmth
of joy
forever gone

brutal night has fallen long ago
that no sun can penetrate

the blackness soothes him
he retreats into its depths
embraces its lightless void
hiding
sulking

shielded from any possibility
of further pain or remorse
he is unfeeling
safely lifeless

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
he must

this is wrong
this is trespass

this is cruel betrayal
of his lost beloved

he has no right
to leave this place of sorrow
to step into the light

no right

but it grows inevitable
all seems lost
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 it
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


IMG_8653

____

 

rob kistner © 2009