Category: art

Drowning

Drowning

~

on the boulevard
outside
last night’s rain
puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
as if abandoned
by the waters of earth

it shoulders its way
through the culverts
in search of mother sea

this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets

lovers and their beloved
sit by morning windows
with tea
and curiosity

they talk

in these moments
their souls spill
one into the other
entranced

somewhere
tender lips
are sculpting sweet words

but here in this quiet
I drown in your eyes
fallen into azure pools

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2012

  • Click for bonus pleasure…

    • These People

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    These People

    ~

    these people

    that begrudge me my juicy burgers
    or my rare filet mignon

    that look down their nose
    at my slathered baby backs

    or sneer with disdain
    as I tear into a buttery veal chop

    these people

    their cutting condemnation
    because I’m devouring
    a cut of impeccably seasoned loin
    like it’s some violation of nature

    think about it

    if this were’t the natural way
    there wouldn’t be A1 sauce

    and you’re going to tell me
    Mr. Weber had zucchini on his mind
    when he created the kettle grill

    listen

    if the 4-legged critters
    had the gumption to organize
    and effectively resist
    their inevitable transformation
    into steaks and chops

    or even act mildly indignant
    regarding their situation

    I might think differently

    but they simply
    go with the flow

    quite content
    to fatten up
    on the free grub

    and loll about all day
    in the free accommodations

    and as I savor
    their perfectly turned succulence
    I’m damned grateful for their indifference

    these people

    let them eat soup

    warhol-at-the-grocery-store

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

  • Incidentally, my lovely wife is a vegetarian, and loves soup…

    • This Heart

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    This Broken heart

    ~
    this heart’s now yours
    this damaged heart
    this brittle fractured aching heart
    broken by you, every part

    I’ve no use for this ruined heart
    plucked here from my chest
    I seek a new and vital heart
    one that’s far less stressed

    a fresh heart that’s unbreakable
    a heart able to forgive
    unmarred unscarred yet tender
    beating with the joy to live

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    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

    Rebel Rebel

    …I republish this piece today in fond memory of John…

     

    “we all shine on, like the moon, and the stars, and the sun”

     

    Rebel Rebel

    •

    I’ll not listen
    not be shackled
    not be handled
    not be ruled

    I’ll not be managed
    nor be played
    manipulated
    or be fooled

    you sure as hell
    will not tell
    me

    who
    what
    where
    when
    how

    or why

    what you offer
    I’m not taking

    your extended hand
    I am not shaking

    the world I walk
    is of my making

    and

    I will not have it
    any other way

    your iron fist
    I destroyed it

    your sage advice
    I avoid it

    you can
    rant
    rave
    condemn
    and preach

    your approval
    I do not beseech

    I seek only
    my good counsel

    I’ll not succumb
    to might
    or muscle

    not be swayed
    by your slick hustle

    I am a man
    of my own mind

    and I will live
    as my own man

    this is all
    I want to be

    well-traveled
    loved

    and free

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2008

    _____________________

    image at top entitled: “Lennon”

    10/9/40 – 12/8/80

    • • •

     

    …inspired by writing prompt #54, found at “readwritepoem”.

    Our True Work

    Something life’s experiences have taught me: seeing the world for what it is makes you smart, envisioning the world for what it can be – makes you wise…

     

    Our True Work

    •

    there are countless contradictions
    in the elements of the work we do
    and conflictions as we strive
    but bring these not to table

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

    and this toil to sustain the body
    this does not feed the spirit
    this is not our true work

    to lift someone in need
    to measure well in tolerance
    to seek the components of peace
    to create enduring possibility

    this is the true work
    in the final sweep
    ‘round the face of time

    this is what the soul eats

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales and OSI

    Ballo diVita

     

    Ballo diVita

    •

    he
    a master of time and space
    she
    so young and trusting

    he
    a wizard of colors and words
    dazzled her with danger and dreams
    she
    a nubile daughter of nature
    anointed him with exotic pleasures

    he
    replaced the sun in her sky
    with a fire he conjured and kept
    she
    warmed herself in its heat
    came to his bed at its setting

    they
    the left foot and the right foot poised
    to step forth in creativity’s dance
    to whirl and glide persistent and true
    in the measure and balance of love

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    Slithered


    The Snake Charmer, Henri Rousseau, 1907

     

    Slithered

    •

    ever hissing ever hissing
    the smooth slithered snake
    stealthily winds its slender self
    to slowly settle in the shadows

    to set its searching sights
    on its unsuspecting prey
    an ever patient sentry
    coiled to seize its precious prize

    with surety of purpose
    this silent sleek assassin
    will strike swift and certain
    never missing never missing

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Clown

     

    Clown

    •

    I’m the sad little clown with the frowning face
    the round red nose and the great big tear
    this meek facade and silly sham
    belie the horror that I engineer

    life’s dealt me cold my hand is slack
    not one queen no king nor ace
    so violence now dwells in me
    masked behind my woeful face

    no one suspects the evil soul
    that festers deep in this funny fool
    they know not the monster here
    my gentle sheen conceals the cruel

    they don’t realize a broken heart
    a ruined life makes one quite mad
    they simply see the pitiful
    the painted face that looks so sad

    the shaggy coat the baggy pants
    the red suspenders the big white glove
    they do not know it hides the hand
    that choked the life from the one they love

    town after town state after state
    bodies mount in the circus’ wake
    in the dead of night at the dark of moon
    in frenzied fever each life I take

    each beautiful each innocent
    each unaware that they would die
    there will be more on the road ahead
    one for every tear you made me cry

    when the circus comes and the tents go up
    the people cheer in each sleepy town
    because the poor fools just don’t know
    who’s really come is the killer clown

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    _____________________

    for two more tales of murder written in dark rhyme click “more”

    Junebug

     

    Junebug

    •

    how impertinent
    moth and junebug

    what’s with all this buzzing chatter
    you’re bump and thump and all a’clatter
    worrying with the frontporch light
    steaming on this august night
    such racket over a minor matter

    while here below you
    my heart breaks in silence

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales and OSI

    Sea Song

    • this poem linked at Writer’s Island and One Single Impression

     

    Sea Song

    •

    sad she comes
    everyday
    to these empty shores
    on wings of memory
    to serenade this sea

    a song of longing
    bowed on strings
    of a broken heart
    mournful for the one
    lost to these silent fathoms

    her tears
    steady as the mists
    relentless swept away
    by these cold
    indifferent waves

    only they
    know where her lover lies
    so everyday she comes
    taunted by these tides
    to seek their mystery

    and every night
    darkness falls
    chill upon this deep

    her forlorn refrain
    shatters in the moonlight
    the sea holding cruel tight
    to its precious secret

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    _________________________

    TWO OTHER RECENT POEMS:


    “And So”


    “The Sync”

    The Sync

     

    The Sync

    •

    connection
    to make contact
    searching for the sync
    the heart of the matter
    in this solitary journey
    from womb to tomb

    a stranger
    on the bus of days
    seeking distraction
    chatting them up
    to suppress
    the voice of isolation

    immersed in the small talk
    of love
    and accomplishment
    to drown
    the incessant murmur
    of alienation

    the chant of abandonment
    ever there to remind
    that we board alone
    to make our way
    toward an enigmatic destination

    clinging
    to a vague vision
    of home

    to disembark
    as we began

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • collage entitled “The Sync” – by: rob kistner © 2011

    __________________

    • linked at Carry On Tuesday and Magpie Tales

    Scorched

     

    Scorched

    •

    the landscape
    losing its gild
    mottles
    in gunmetal grays

    fractured storm clouds
    churn
    in huddling menace

    brightened breezes
    that sizzled in the aspens
    build
    buffeted by the angry front
    thrashing
    into brittling winds

    the world
    tumbles towards darkness

    my heart
    shudders in deep shadow
    mourning love’s devastation

    scorching words
    bite and sting
    where they sizzle still
    blistering my careless tongue

    would that it rain
    drown the lands
    that I might
    turn my face to the sky
    flood my foolish mouth
    charred by regret
    with drenching waters
    of contrition

    to douse the cruel fire
    of that
    which should never have been said

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • collage entitled “Sorrow” – by: rob kistner © 2011

    ________________

    inked at Writer’s Island

    Ship of Dreams

    …I have always loved the fantasy art of Dean Morrissey and James C. Christensen, and this week’s prompt at Writer’s Island put me in mind of their highly imaginative and captivating work, which in turn inspired the poem below, with its “tongue-in-cheek” ending…

     

    Ship of Dreams

    •

    fantastic is this spell I’m under
    magic of a splendorous kind
    a world of cornucopic wonder
    treasure troves of dreams to plunder
    in this kingdom of my mind

    here I live a life enchanted
    here no fear of any threat
    sorrow is by joy supplanted
    no limit to desires granted
    what I want is what I get

    fantasy’s elaboration
    a god of pleasure I ascend
    soar in sweet hallucination
    in ships of my imagination
    oh, would this dream but never end

    Epilogue

    well now, oh dear, that was a bit much
    somewhat carried away it seems
    euphoria finds me out of touch
    with reality, good sense, and such
    perhaps I’ll temper my daydreams

    throttle back my vision quest
    bring fascinations down to size
    moderation will serve me best
    but dreams are so hard to repress
    no limits when you fantasize

    • • •

    rob kistner © 3/26/11

    • written for Writer’s Island

    • art piece at top by Dean Morrissey

    ________________________

    …below is a sample of the fantasy art of James C. Christensen…

    Limitless

    …limitless talent, unfathomable spirit…

    Limitless

    •

    • written for Writer’s Island

    Equinox

     

    Equinox

    •

    winter’s journey ends
    lengthening light bears witness
    spring crests and breaks
    here at the equinox

    life bursts forth
    poking through pliant soil
    unfurling on barren branch
    here at the equinox

    nature stirs in song and call
    celebrating new birth
    sustaining the cycle
    here at the equinox

    my heart leaps
    my spirit dances
    to this rhythm of renewal
    here at the equinox

    • • •

    rob kistner © 3/20/11