and along with it
a larger part
if I do not panic
but stay calm
instead
being careful
not to lose my head
if I can
look to the future
avoid the dread
it’s not hard to conceive
kitty I truly believe
though parts of me
have certainly
lost a bit
of fleshy tether
eventually
with what’s left
of me
I can finally
pull myself together
rob kistner © 2019
I suspected this possibility
thankfully
I was prepared for the moment
that moment
that horrific moment
forever dividing then
from now
then
comfortably alone
walking my property line
along the azure waters
of the clear mountain stream
that rolled towards me
crisp and pure
then
in an instant
the startling sound
the strange light
soaring above the douglas firs
that stand proudly
at the river’s edge
sentries for centuries
protecting this northern boundary
of my lands
steady
enduring
supple in the winds
that waft and quicken
breathing life
whispering their secrets
now
two years on
since that ominous moment
the bone chill
the penetrating feeling
of fear
now
I am alone again
but now
quite absolutely
no evidence of survivors
my beloved wife
did not make it
the global communication grid
totally destroyed
too long
since I have seen
another’s eyes
or heard another’s voice
now
I ramble this valley
wade this stream
in my hazmat suit
mumbling quietly
to no one
rations are running out
water
food
I am at the ragged edge
of coherence
of sanity
I cling to the hope
for a sign of life
someday
any life
but they are all gone
every — last — one
gone
can I last
have I that patience
how long can I hold center
how long
until my fragile psyche unravels
if I could just remove this helmet
breathe fresh air again
feel the breeze on my face
while the trees are fine
carcasses are everywhere
animals
fish
birds
insects
I fear the air is toxic
deadly
will it ever be safe
how can I know
wait
what’s this
“Hey, hi little fella!”
rob kistner © 2019
Aeropachydermicide: recklessly causing the death of someone or something by actions that result from the foolish belief that one is so smart and powerful that one can make an elephant fly.
we fantasized we had dominion
that we understood the vast unknown
could control the raw chaotic
that we had figured out the why
so we delved into dark science
with no regard for frail nature
flailed our way across the planet
belched our leavings into our sky
we so bought into our egos
that we perceived ourselves as gods
that we were capable of anything
perhaps make the elephant to fly
but we humans lost sight of balance
did not comprehend our place
as only one of precious many
we let the tipping point slip by
now we wonder what will happen
to our misbegotten dream
stare through disbelieving tears
as we watch it slowly die
rob kistner © 10/3/11
revised © 2019
(- SORROW -)
on this broken cloudy day
alone with her fractured wishes
silently she swims away
deep down with the fishes
alone with her fractured wishes
a’swim in the seabed’s sway
deep down with the fishes
she is leaving it all today
a’swim in the seabed’s sway
with nothing more left to say
she is leaving it all today
the sea carries her spirit away
on this bright and sunny day
with her heart awash in wishes
joyfully she swims away
down with the colorful fishes
with her heart awash in wishes
a’swim in the seabed’s sway
down with the colorful fishes
she is filled with love today
a’swim in the seabed’s sway
neptune’s beauty on bold display
she is filled with love today
letting her dreams carry her away
rob kistner © 2019
Links to my other 3 Pantoums:
1.) Pantoumadness
2.) Flame Of Learning
3.) Lady Blue
all those years ago
in the time of dangers
they were placed in secret
as a silent beacon
in that deepest night
waiting for the day
when the shadowed world
would waken from the nightmare
shed its narrow petty ways
and embrace the way of light
stacked by those of vision
blessed in hope and courage
one upon the other
like knowledge upon learning
these standing stones of peace
hear them call across the ages
and beckon us to rise
to step into the future
to envision a new dream
to let fear and hatred cease
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2010
(revision © 1/22/19)
These sculptures are called cairns. A cairn is a human-made balanced stack of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Cairns have been, and still are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present. They are stacked as landmarks, direction finders, memorials, and also spiritual reasons, among other purposes.
I am again awake
from another dark night
that began with fear
fear I might not survive
and ends in sorrow
realizing I did
I rise
make my way carefully
past the shallow-breathed crumple
that lay milky-eyed
in a heap on the floor
un-moving
save a twitch of the head
a head which now harbors demons
where nocturnal angels of sweet release
had lain down lush upon it
in fevered embrace
lustfully conjured
by last night’s spoon and lance
still skewered silver in the soured vein
this wreckage is my mother
I stop but for a glance
verifying life
then move on head down
angle to the bathroom
to the scum-brown bowl
to wash my face
lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
that hangs bare and lonely
strange eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my heart
eyes of knowing
eyes of sadness
grief courses through me
weighing upon my being
burning into my heart
I want to cry out
but there is no one here to hear me
no hero that can help me
driven by instinct to survive
by urgency to flee
I shudder away the paralyzing despair
in this dank food-less morning
in this ruined single room
in this coat-less chill of predawn
I gather up my books
step lightly through the door
down the damaged stairs
into the hostile streets
heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams
I duck and dodge
in and out of shadows
praying to once again avoid the evil
that lurks and slinks
among the garbage and graffiti
of these crumbled bricken’d canyons
that rolls slow and lethal
gripping cold blue steel
in predatory drive-by
evil
seductive as a smile
deadly as a snake
evil
which if diligence should fail
I fear will consume my soul
deliberately I continue
until at last I find my way
to the building
to the classroom
to my teacher
to my desk
to the only hope
to which I dare cling
when the fire of love
flickers dims and dies
and a shadow falls
deep in darkened eyes
hollow words of love
become but empty lies
that open door
of a tender heart
has swung quietly closed
round the fragile part
what once so sweet and effortless
can never again feel right
and the fall begins so near unseen
as though but the passing of night
until one morning no dawn breaks
no tenderness nor warmth awakes
and a loneliness encircles slow
you seek the one that you’ve loved so
she’s here arms reach
she shares your bed
you roll and turn
then lift your head
you search her face
in the predawn glow
whose eyes these are
you no longer know
you feel no tears
you feel no fight
a knowing rises from this night
sadly it will never again be right
it’s in this painful clarity
you realize
you know
that though you stayed quite sound asleep
you heart left long ago
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2013
~
fallen into night’s embrace
held down by dark shadows
I writhe in the arms of nightmare
would that I could rise
into the light of dawn’s nod
but I’m flesh, weak, consumed by flesh
purity laid raw entangled in my sin
skin to skin with my obsession
restrained to roil in my transgression
but soon the light of morne
will fold itself upon me pardoned
oh pray I not be too far drawn asunder
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2012
•
standing at the edge
feeling far below
the great tides
the ebb and flow
the rise and fall
the come and go of centuries
wave by wave
day by day
might incarnate
the power of indifference
the surge of perfect apathy
and I
as insignificant as the grain of sand
bounced and tumbled
dragged helpless in the undertow
and that crest of froth
rises up in beckon
the silk of azure blue
slides smoothly down its slope of back
as it dances on the deep
how easy I could slip
into that fathomed realm
down down ever down
into the waiting silence
without so much a noticed sound
absorbed into the churn and roar
without so much a ripple
to disturb the steady surf
a subtle crease
irrelevant
erased even as it came
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
here is the change
the forgetting
the slipping away
into the haze of memory
the frustration
of no longer being able
and still
the burning longing to…
remember
and you
dimming in this fog
midst the times we have cherished
the places we have loved
fading beyond reach
an ever-mounting loneliness
like so many vacant seats
empty
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
do you hear the leaves rustle
do you hear my breath
whispering your name
do you hear my heart beat
do you hear my tears fall
or is it silent
silent as the light-less realm
that hauntingly engulfs my soul
silent as that night
when apples spilled
on the broken stair
where rail eluded
your grasping hand
silent as your futile cry
when no voice came
to grace your lips
tender lips
that parted gently
to hold my kiss
lips
that will not know again
sweet fruit
nor love
rob kistner © 2011
* linked 2011 at Magpie Tales
•
shrouded by evening in waning october
as autumn tumbles towards winter
is to know the losing of the light
the ever growing darkness
the advance of the cold
the time of endings
death’s due vigil
deep silence
dormant
so still
how do I abide this season
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
These two poetic reflections are unrelated, beyond their focus on silence. The first reflection here considers what it is to fall into the deepening silence of old age. The second reflection looks at the silence that causes, and also results from repression…
•
shrouded by evening in waning october
as autumn tumbles towards winter
is to know the losing of the light
the ever growing darkness
the advance of the cold
the time of endings
death’s due vigil
deep silence
how do I abide this season
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
escape was an improbability
as was understanding
opinions regarding outcome
ignored altogether
fate sealed with no discourse
executed with an air of entitlement
when one has no arms to flail
no fists to clench
no fingers to point
gestures of dissent are sorely limited
rights easily wrest away
freedom falls beyond grasp
inevitable
when one has no voice
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
on the boulevard below
last night’s rain puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
held hostage by tire and curb
as if abandoned by the waters of earth
it shoulders its way through the gutters
in search of mother sea
this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets
me and the first edition
we sit by this morning window
with coffee and curiosity
quietly serenaded by the 5:00 AM news
I read
occasionally glimpse the screen
grow troubled by our human plight
amazed how we never learn
when the answers seem so obvious
in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup
until I stare distracted
the announcer’s mouth continues sculpting words
but I’ve fallen deep into my thoughts
imagining how different it would be
if I ruled this world
• • •
rob kistner © 2011
•
there stands a raven in the rain
liquid-black as molten coal
beside a woman
besot and broken
thoughts so black and molten
outstretched in her anguish
ravin’ in the rain
raven in the rain
why is it that you stand here
so very soaked and sullen
beside this woman so besot
so broken and bereft
heart so black and shattered
ravin’ in the rain
has her ravin’ called you forth
do you feel kinship in her blackness
does it bind you common thread
is there a faint scent of death
carried on her plaintive breath
she outcast and shunned
so like your thankless plight
picking ‘mongst the carnage
rooting in the road-kill
the writhing crawling carcass rot
left the spoiled — not the spoils
this is your lot is it not
to consume the left-for-dead
the world’s lost decay
raven in the rain
are you here to feast today
• • •
rob kistner © 2011