Images

Scorch


”Sorrow” by: rob kistner © 2011

 

The band of our promise is losing its gild. It mottles now in gunmetal grays, and unsettled shadows. Our love, once a breeze, turns now into storm clouds, churning in huddled menace. The unfettered whirlwind of torrid love, that sizzled like autumn zephyrs in quaking aspen, now explodes like an angry front, thrashing our trust with bitter winds. We’ve fallen to the darkness of resentment.

My heart shudders in shadow, mourning my scorching words of spite. They sizzle still, blistering my careless tongue – words that never should have been spoken. Would that it rain, drowning the lands, that I might turn my face to the sky, flood my foolish mouth, charred by regret, with drenching waters of contrition. Rain that might revive the oak that was our true love. But what are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish?

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Listen


 

Such peace — wandering these mountains
exploring the shores of its lakes and rivers
spellbound by the immensity of its forests
praying it will endure the human species

its ancient secrets whisper on the winds
echoing in the treetops like quiet song
to resonate forever my beating heart
lost to the magic of this mystic realm
this wilding world of enchantments
this vast pacific northwest kingdom

I’m entranced by these majestic mountains
whose crisp whitewaters serenade my soul
cascading the boulders in its wild rivers

‘round each bend stirs a freshened zephyr
wafting through the timeless old growth

an osprey’s cry echoes high in the canopy
beautifully eerie this raptor’s haunting call
it seeks prey in the waters of these mountains

I have great respect for this masterful fisher
doing battle with a wild trout is in its nature
I need my wits and rod to fish these rivers
in pursuit of the elusive native rainbow
but such joyful endeavor is addictive

imagination ignites
a’wade in these streams
lost in sweetest dreams
soothed by the breeze
free from the stress
of this mad world
I decompress

the rustle in the tall trees is an intoxicating melody
this special place lives always deep in my heart
I am captive to the mysteries of these forests
enchanted by these wondrous mountains
my soul adrift on the glacial-fed waters

when I have passed ~ here I will rest
you’ll hear my voice on the wind
my footsteps in the old growth
my whispering on the waters
it’s my prayer for the earth

come quietly – and listen

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: d’Verse

Poetry at: Earthweal

 

——————————<|~|>—————————-
** READ THIS poem I read today “Live” on OLN: Eternal River
——————————<|~|>—————————- 

My Move

“In life, as in chess, forethought wins.” – Charles Buxton


David Maverick © 2007

 

Strategy must play out slowly
protection is tantamount
but so is lethal aggression

the squarely stark contrasts
of extreme dark and light
laid out before me
stir my essence
fire my soul
rally my spirit
ignite my wonder
whet my imagination
engage my player’s drive

with the need to be right
absolutely

wholly wrapt – I ponder
I scheme
I calculate

I can feel sweat
on the verge

but I must not

to show vulnerability
to hint at fear
is deadly

I must stay cool

this situation
is at once familiar
yet it feels
exotically foreign

strange
dangerous

caught in the grip
of debilitating angst
I also feel the stir
of indignation

does he think me a fool
that I would fall for his ploy
be drawn into his trap
his feeble transparent gambit

I will not

but I feel a longing
as I search for discovery
praying I have not
exposed my hand

anxiety gnaws at my resolve
the sensation
of a hollow
empty place
deep within
echoing with uncertainty

but I embrace the moment

I believe I see his truth
his diabolical vision

it is offering me
just enough answer
that I combust
with questions

but I feel they are
the right questions
to unlock my truth
to guide my path

while I’m held
suspended in inquiry
transfixed
by this beautiful mystery
suddenly — I feel elevated
by insight
impaled by vision

yes – yes
I see it
I see it clearly
my perfect move

I must make it boldly
but carefully
because everything rides on this

why am I so intense
you wonder

is this a matter
of life and death
you ask

oh no
my friend
oh no

it is far more serious than that

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: poets & stortellerd

Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal

 

Winds of Fate

 

A whispered crisp autumn zephyr
lifts and gently tosses my hair
brushes softly against my cheek
to tug my bright vivid kite — skyward

these beautiful, crisp autumn days
remind me so, of my loving, adoptive father
we’d leave Ohio to fish the crystal waters of Canada
and fly colorful homemade kites, from the boat dock

out on the lake, I loved the soothing sound of water
lapping the sides of our aluminum fishing boat
and the breakwater splashing of a hooked, leaping fish
contorting at line’s end, like an unruly, windblown kite

for a sad young boy, those fishing trips were magic
life after the orphanage, I still often felt untethered
a lost kite, whose string was broken – blowing away
eventually, I rose intact, buoyed on this fisherman’s love

I began life tossed and tumbled in daily crosswinds
a kite unloosed, frenzied by surrounding uncertainty
but winds of fate carried me to a loving, generous man
who tethered me to his heart, and I, to his as well

I still soar strong, in bold colors of living
on the warm wafting winds of wonderful memory
of this man who gave me love, who gave me a life
gave me a home – and he taught me to love fishing

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Radiance

 

Radiant vision
silken skinned
sheer translucent
as a coral flame

you tempt my dreams
you rouse my slumber
you’re torrid
as a teen’s temptation

I am captive
to a lover’s pyre
kindle’d tinder
with slightest spark
sure consumed
by goddess fire

your delicate face
captivating
a visage more gorgeous
than heaven’s angles
comely soft
as spun-gold velvet

your hair a-flow
an enchanted rose
magic
to mystify
a petal’s blush
sensual to touch
soft
as a lover’s sigh

you’re Hedone’s daughter
lush with passion’s nectar
afire
in golden ardor
that folds upon you
sensuous as satin

your beauty
like a summer sunrise
so stunning
as to blind
creation’s eyes

you are fast
as a moment passed
light of foot
as an autumn zephyr
graceful
as a gliding doe

your courage
is your legacy
deeply rooted bravery
tempered well by history
relentless struggles
for equality

you’re strong
as an April storm
your scowl striking
as thunder’d lightening
your smile enticing
as a gentle rain

you are thinker
you are teacher
you are lover
you are mother
sacred source
of the human race

you are goddess
ever beautiful
divinely-splendrous
sculpted grand
brought forth
in nature’s glory
from fair eden
by Aphrodite’s hand

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Peacefully Stoned

“Peace is liberty in tranquility.”
— Marcus Tullius Cicero



~ these stacked standing stones of Stonehenge are over 3,000 years old ~

 

Stacked by visionaries past
blessed in hope and courage
one upon the other
knowledge upon learning
these standing stones of peace

they call across the ages
beckoning us to rise
step into the future
to envision a new dream
let fear and hatred cease

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

~ for George, just because ~

Now & Ever


 

Your perfect lips
soft as whispered love
sweet and rich
as heated cognac

your hypnotic eyes
deep as a wind still sea
warm and seductive
as a tropic midnight

your heady kiss
unlocks my soul
opens to you
my disarmed heart

look now upon
my unfathomed love

see
I surrender fully
now and ever
I am yours

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

True Work

“Don’t handicap your children by making their lives easy.”
– Robert A. Heinlein

 

Standing solid
I bend my back
squat
then straighten at the waist
hunkered ‘neath the weight
I lift clean the load
the warehouseman’s refrain
always on my mind
(back straight
lift with the legs)

the first test — no result
I try a second
then a third
on and on
day after day
long hours in the lab
the formula must be perfect
only perfect will save lives

drywall must be flush
and plumb
also square and seamless
meticulously
I set each sheet
with the level and the bob
then pause
to wipe my sweating brow

I curse my keyboard
do battle with fatigue
I coax the vision
to commit to screen
the first draft of my design
to then modify
and refine
until — the ultimate creation

I check the temperature
conduct the screening
evaluate the results
then make the diagnosis
without delay or self-concern
I begin the treatment
in timely manner
to save a life

wearing tight my mask
I count the stock
disinfect the shelves
gather the inventory
place the goods
then squelching my fear
help customers check out
knowing in this time of crisis
people must have what they need

these — and countless others
elements of the work I do
or did
or may yet do

and I am you
and you are me
and we are all together
in this constant labor
for our daily bread

but – this is not our true work

to bend to lift someone in need
to help carry their burden
until they again stand steady

to bend to pick & toss the litter
that clutters our land masses
chokes our seas with plastics

to seek the components of peace
to formulate the dialog
that fosters understanding

to measure well my tolerance
to stand squarely flush
with truth and level justice

to look into the eyes
of someone very different
and see with care — not hate

to admit my mistakes
to quietly listen
to try again to get it right

to visualize a free world
to create enduring possibility
for universal love

this — is the true work
the true care to keep
in the great hands final sweep
‘round the face of time

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Tuesday Night Church

 

I’ve always liked these exposed filament lights
hanging at random heights and space at Amelia’s
boldly here in Am’s front window — for all to see

reminded me of the diversity of her customers
each reasonably transparent with our agendas
each brightly afire with a burning love of jazz

she says it makes the place warm and friendly
their off-white glow, leaning a bit to golden
casts a comfortable friendly ambiance — welcoming

the conversation hovers in trend-topical bursts
hot yet quietly — controlled to a respectful degree
the jazz is cool, but crisp with an edge of freedom

we sizzle mellow, trippin’ on brilliant blistered riffs
no matter the season, the burn of the ringin’ bellhorns
keep us hypnotized and synchronized — snap-ap-ap’n

Amelia’s is a tuesday night paradise — angels a’plenty
and a dolla’ getcha a three-side of Am’s miracle ribs
smoke, sauce, ‘n slaw — nuff ta make a heathen love jesus

we, the helplessly hopeless menagerie of jazz junkies
dig the vibe that goes down every buck’a’shot tuesday
and these cats can play — keeps these hang-bulbs rattlin’

Amelia’s is tuesday night church, and the hip souls worship
I shake/swear/stomp/sweat — then leave sanctified in joy
these random bulbs in Amelia’s window know all my sins

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Earthweal

 

That Lovin’ Feelin’ Lost

Righteous Brothers — Bill Medley & Bobby Hatfield
Was in a Righteous Brothers cover duo as You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ hit #1.

 

b’day 2/18/47

Spent my 18th birthday
at Newport KY’s Flamingo Club
playin’ blue-eye’d soul
into the early mornin’

final set over at 4:00 am
we smuggled single malt
into the all night grill
for the crusty sunrise special

bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
we’re mixin’ with fellow players
from other early AM clubs

among willing groupies
and loud hangers on
all sittin’ and chattin’
a family of the night

steel-heart working girls
soul-bruised painted strippers
burnt drink slingers
and tired cocktail mules

hipsters grifters drifters
and slick gamblers
from behind the sealed doors
of those private upstairs rooms

swell perfumed boys
and sisters of the leather
queens and trannies
pimps pushers and the cops

we’re huddled and hidin’
from those cruel first rays
ready to scurry off
to our well-curtained rooms

it’s time to score
whatever gets us through
‘till sundown next
strikes up the band again

but right now the jukebox
volume up to the ceilin’
is blastin’ out the #1
You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’

many noddin’ — YES

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Blanc

“You can’t think yourself out of a writing block,
you have to write yourself out of a thinking block.”
— John Rogers


“…a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping…”
— Paul Simon

 
Here I lean upon my open hands, warm against my temple, elbows locked solid on my cluttered desk. My eyes, aflame with spoiled sleep, stare into the void. My skull is heavy on my finger bones, weighted by indecision, as procrastination presses down.

Oh fickle muse, fickle muse — where the hell art thou muse! Damnit, I seek your inspiration, to at last be moved by you. Instead, the hum of my desk fan drones relentlessly in my ears — impossible to ignore, no matter how I try. This writer’s block be cursed, I will not wear it like an itching skin!

My thoughts, like digits on a dollar slot, spin unfocused in my mind. they neither click nor lock in place. They just tumble in a jumble, rolling in a blur — indecipherable! Lost in this mental fog, I’m sunken in my writer’s chair, immobile. I am paralyzed by perplexity, imprisoned by the chaos awhirl in my mind. The freedom of decision I fear this night will not be mine

where are you sweet words
to give life to my vision
this blanc page mocks me

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Safe’n Sound


 

The old place has lost its luster
but the memories still hold their glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
kept me safe and warm so long ago

the mornings were a bustling din
dad off to work and me late for school
but together at evenin’ dinner table
clean hands’n face — as was the rule

then dad and I tinkered in his workshop
as mom and baby bro’ would play
then round the hearth to sooth our bones
all sharin’ stories about our day

now off to bed in clean pajamas
a bedtime tale to make us thrill
wrapped in blankets of our family’s love
to keep us warm against night’s chill

wonderful dreams, seldom a nightmare
we all slept tight — safe ‘n sound
though the world was having troubles
at our home they nev’r came around

yes — the old place has lost its luster
but every memory still holds a glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
that kept me safe and warm so long ago

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

https://youtu.be/tTKp1RHuyoQ

Heartquest

“ “All that spirits desire, spirits attain.”
— Khalil Gibran

 

Beauty in this world is fleeting
but as long as my warm heart is beating
it’s for love’s bliss I am entreating

you have set my longing heart afire
you burn in my midnight desire
sweet erotic dreams you inspire
my lustful soul is overheating

if I could wrap my arms around you
such intoxicating things we’d do
dreams of passion would be made true
my frail restraint is fast depleting

a temptress in a velvet glove
your touch I’d never tire of
a smoldering heat of forbidden love
these carnal visions keep repeating

I crave your lips I want you now
we must join together now somehow
I’ll taste your wild love — this I vow
from this wanton quest there’s no retreating

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

https://youtu.be/MSbgsWH1O_E