Images

December Memories

  • A flashback for OLN #256:

    OpenLinkNight #256


     

    FB150DBA-CE35-481C-A9C7-A6BF8AE62BEC
     

    December Memories

    ~

    • pine boughs sparkling
    yule log crackling
    full hearts brimming
    drawn close this night

    ribbons
    on bright papers
    gifts bestowed
    one at a time

    round and round
    the kindred circle
    celebrating
    unveiled affections

    joy
    love
    and cheerful laughter
    precious times with family

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2018

    ______________

    Go here to dVerse to get cheered up:

    Quadrille #70: Poems of Good Cheer


     

    ______________________________
    “This is the sad year I bow out as Santa”

    IMG_2941

    My wife and I as “singing” Santa and Mrs Clause. We visit several families each year at Christmas as a special surprise for the children. When we visit, I lead the children, and the entire group, singing Christmas Carols. Been doing it for a number of years. BTW, that is my real beard. And Mrs. Clause carries the watering can because she delivers a fun, low-key environmental message for the children. But my declining health may see this year as my last journey as Santa Claus. It has been rewarding beyond measure to see the excitement and love in the eyes of the little ones, especially in their years 2 or 3 until 5 or 6. It’s been such a wonderful gift to have been Santa. I will miss it! ;-(

    The Missing

    DFBDFA76-CD87-4B86-B3BD-D14F11E09C01

     
    The Missing

    ~

    without warning they were simply gone
    we were left bewildered, to carry on
    the entire family strangely disappeared
    what happened here is truly very weird

    they were taken in an instant long ago
    to where, we will likely never know
    midst this kitchen clutter, it abruptly ended
    was life concluded, or just suspended

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • To check out more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

    • Note By Note

    9099DF63-D105-49EE-8C0D-7285D8CF99B1

    Note by Note

    ~

    music music is everywhere
    the sound of music
    can fill the air

    it can slip right through the tiniest hole
    it can fill a room
    it can fill your soul

    the power of music has great potential
    its power to fill
    is exponential

    feeling deflated — hope won’t float
    music will fill it up
    note by note

    it can fill the void in an empty life
    it can obliterate sadness
    eliminate strife

    it can flow into the remotest part
    filling full
    a lonely heart

    score or lyric in your favorite style
    will fill your face
    with a bursting smile

    music is powerful and invasive stuff
    but in this angry world
    can there be enough

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to check out more poetry at dVerse:

    Poetics: Sylvia and Ted

    • Gratitude & Balance

    “Hybrid haibun with dual haikus.”

    F69E53BA-20E3-4187-9E01-3B94D9FD5991
    digital rendering: ”Gaia Provides” — by: rob kistner © 1997

     
    Gratitude & Balance

    ~

    Precious mother Gaia, you embrace us with your love. You carry us safely as we hurtle thousands of miles, every hour, of every day, through infinite space. You provide for us our every need. You sustain our bodies with your abundant bounty. You nurture our spirits with your beauty and endless wonders.

    seeds push seeking sun
    sky pulls with precious spring rain
    gaia yields new life

    Your need is simple. That we live in balance with your rhythms, and with our fellow travelers on this amazing journey. You ask that we know gratitude, as humble stewards of your countless gifts. That we live in harmony, attentive and reverent. But we’ve grown arrogant. Foolishly we believe we have dominion over you, over all in your realm. In pursuit of intellect, feeding ego, we have lost our sense of equilibrium, lost our way.

    Now we suffer, as we watch you suffer. Please forgive us. Be patient, do not forsake us. We can learn, as we must learn. Precious mother gaia, grant us time to again find our way, our humility, our center — to again find the gratitude, the balance.

    we seek dominion
    frail balance has been disturbed
    gaia is weeping

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to check out more haibun of gratitude at dVerse:

    Haibun Monday 11/24/19: Gratitude

    • After The Rain

    5226302F-757F-48BE-BD40-016DE0C94FA7
    ”After the Rain” by: Cyril Rolando
     
    After the Rain

    ~

    you hit like a downpour
    a thunderstorm of love
    your kisses hot as lightning
    striking from above

    your passion was a tempest
    I was swept up in its force
    but now the winds have died
    this storm has run its course

    your moods now chilled and cloudy
    no warmth after the rain
    my heart puddles in sadness
    this bad weather’s bringing pain

    the fair winds may return
    as might the clear blue skies
    but my heart will ever yearn
    to see the sun rise in your eyes

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • To check out more poems at Sunday Muse: CLICK HERE

    • Wordless

    This was not a moment in my life when I was speechless, searching for the right words. I had no awareness of words, nor even of language. I was suddenly completely untethered, falling through a frigid void, with a building primal scream, roaring through my soul, fighting to escape.
     

    BB4B3D71-C1A3-4ED4-A103-404B8B2252E6

     

    Wordless

    ~

    I still remember
    when I got the strange hollow call
    informing me my son had been killed

    the disembodied voice on the other end
    asked into the silence that followed
    “sir, are you there?”

    all that finally came forth
    emanating from the pit of my being
    was a coarse choking guttural wail
    like the keening of a wild animal

    14548AAB-C746-4E49-BCF8-60D9AAE68F87

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to check out more poetry at dVerse:

    Tuesday Poetics: Less is More, more or less

    • Day Breaker

    “stream-of-consciousness rant”

    2D8B7CF5-E893-4B4B-B175-EFCFFD9F6BDD
    ”Drinkin’ Thinkin’” by: rob kistner © 1997

     
    DayBreaker

    (hard-drinkin’, jazz-lovin’, workin’ man’s lament)
    ~

    day breaks
    on
    a new week’s
    sun

    putrid
    as the stains
    on my
    flesh-soaked
    mattress

    damp
    as my sour
    mat
    of fevered
    greasy
    tangle

    hot
    as my
    whiskey-foul
    breath

    another
    un-commuted
    sentence

    6A-6P
    ’til
    merciful dusk
    delivers me

    jack-knifed
    into
    my
    jack and coke

    don’t obsess
    in sorrow

    drown
    all
    ‘da-way
    down

    a bottom-dive
    to comatose

    no virtue
    feigned
    nor
    implied

    mad goes
    the struggle
    ‘til
    saved by
    jazz
    48 over
    ‘da
    dub-ya
    hump

    2
    debauched
    24’s
    then
    the hissing
    sting
    of monday
    and
    the mindless
    6-6 grind
    120 n’out

    cruel numbers
    game
    goes
    round round
    and ever round
    ’til
    the tombstone’s
    tender
    solace

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to see what’s being imitated at dVerse:

    Imitation Practice

    • I’ve Had It!

    Modified Tennyson imitation — nine lines with a rhyme pattern AABBCCCCC, and using four trochees per line, with a touch of surrealistic humor.

    A5E4D487-D12D-4200-ACA5-FFE77C361C7A

     
    I’ve Had It!

    ~

    don’t just stand there looking lazy
    while this bunny thumps like crazy
    help me fry it golden brownish
    stuffing it in uncle’s sandwich
    never liked that purple rabbit
    acted poorly — now I’ve had it
    sang off key each time I’d pet it
    stole my shoes and uncle let it
    now it’s lunch — and uncle ‘et‘ it

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to see what’s being imitated at dVerse:

    Imitation Practice

    • Drifting Dreaming

    SURREALISM: Pure psychic automatism by which it is intended to express, either verbally or in writing, the true function of thought. Thought dictated in the absence of all control exerted by reason…

    2FD147A3-262E-4E91-AF09-98BFC7DBA3B2

     
    Drifting Dreaming

    ~

    I read minds
    but pieces of me
    stick to whomever
    I deep delve

    you may have seen me
    silhouetted against your sky
    in coldest January
    howling
    with the frozen moon

    a duet
    to make coyotes
    cower in their dens

    then moon and I run
    from room to imaginary room
    your whole world
    close enough to touch

    we eat a midnight lunch
    perfumed with foreign lands
    and your thoughts
    onion layered

    your thoughts
    are too heavy to hold
    show mercy
    peel back the layers

    peel me away
    thin by thin
    skin by skin
    to my quivering soul

    my thoughts

    bonewhite lies
    of morality plays
    open for you to see

    hope they’re not hideous
    in your sight

    hope they do not
    make you cry
    as you peel back
    all the layers

    onioned thought layers
    held firm
    like a carapace
    to which
    I’m stitched
    and welded
    and can no more leave
    than you can enter

    they tie me down
    sometimes
    but sometimes
    barely so
    survivor that I am

    the inescapable optimism
    in my barebones grin
    flashes
    in the brittle moonlight
    exposing forgotten creases
    and clandestine gateways
    to your mind

    someone can learn
    a thing or two tonight
    if someone
    will ignite the light

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click below to see what’s surreally at dVerse:

    Poetics: Surrealism in Poetry

    • Bewildered Boy

    34235DEB-E7B4-4556-9BBF-EF026B0D51B4

     
    Bewildered Boy
    ~

    born in dead of winter
    under a darkling moon
    at the waning of hearts

    a bewildered boy-child
    conceived in chaos
    lacking heritage

    moment man
    in freefall of frustration
    searching for foothold

    abandoned nomad
    longing for clarity
    for a sense of identity

    4C96DDAB-9E26-4C5E-A4F5-805A8A462DC1
    Moon on 2/18/47, my birth night.

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    NOTE: I was born in 1947 in a post WWll Catholic orphanage. Mother unidentified and likely unwed. Father unknown. Having been abandoned from birth was a matter of much confusion for me in my troubled childhood, and into my young adult life. With the birth of my children I stopped looking back, and started looking ahead, finally understanding of, and thankful for the support of my adoptive parents.

     

  • Click each for more birth related and other poetry at dVerse:

    Poetics: Let Us Labor

    Thankfulness . . .

    • December Passion

    winter-night

     
    December Passion
    ~

    It’s quiet in our home. Darkness has fallen early, as it does in deepest December. We cozy into the comforter, warm across our lap, gazing out our window at the moonlit forest. The fire quiets to ember in the nearby hearth.

    Midnight’s snowfall shimmers through the boughs of old growth, invitingly elegant. As if spread by star clusters, it blankets our high-mountain meadow in crystal down. This night lay quiet and crisp. A great white owl echoes through the frosted cedars.

    Lover and beloved, we entwine ‘neath winter’s window, with our dreams, and one another. You enfold closer, in gentle snuggle, a peaceful smile upon your face.

    I’m remembering another resplendent December night. You, warm in my arms, the night we first kissed, embraced in darkness. Softly I whisper, “if it’s darkness we’re having, let it be extravagant, as is our passion, my love.”

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click for more Jane Kenyon influenced poetry at dVerse:

    Prosery: Meet Jane Kenyon

    • February Rain

    “Original version of this poem posted here on October 25th as “Come February”. It was in the 1st person. Rewriting this one in 3rd person, from my perspective, shifts the essence from feeling personally sad to feeling empathy for another.”

    885B9B26-D2A7-4161-B554-89D6A34335E9
     

    February Rain
    ~

    here he is
    wishing wishes
    for those days
    when life made sense
    thinking thoughts
    that tear at him
    for the things
    he failed to be

    how he does desire
    the damp dreary days
    of february
    when his forlorned
    fallen face
    is commonplace

    when no one intrudes
    to question
    what’s the matter
    when they see
    the tears he cries
    there come no why’s

    because all around
    are caught up in the blues

    oh if only
    she could find it
    in her heart

    to forgive
    this sadly lost
    and broken man

    who much too late
    understands
    he was a fool

    and in his sorrow
    understands
    love will not stir

    but how he wishes
    ill-tempered weather
    would occur

    to drive the joyful
    all around him
    to indoor spaces

    so he’d be spared
    the pain
    of smiling faces

    and the bitter
    bitter memory
    of losing her

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click for more dVerse poetry:

    Meet the Bar by changing your perspective