NaPoWriMo #24 – In Vain / Daddy’s Girl

This is my twenty-fourth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one tanka


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• This poem that follows is inspired by Marie Gauthier’s NaPoWriMo day 23 prompt at readwritepoem to find and use a colloquial phrase — and by the current frustration I am feeling trying to deliver on my promise of at least 1 poem a day for 30 days. This day I am blank – my muse is being quite difficult. So for inspiration I looked to a poem I’d written 3 years back about just such a situation of writer’s block. I wrote this new poem from those 3-year-old bones, sparked additionally by Robert Lee Brewer’s NaPoWriMo day 23 prompt at Poetic Asides: exhaustion.

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In Vain

•

the virginal glare
of the backlit void
taunts me

the tiny pulsing cursor
throbs like a migraine
in the blank white field

untouched
ignored
impatient

no burden of remorse
no weight of mystery
does it bear

no sting of anger
no wink of mirth
to reflect

nothing sensual
or sensitive
to share

no coin of phrase to save

just empty screen
tormenting nothingness
30 in 30
pressing down

dissonance spills through my open window

the scatter of rain
stir of wind
rustle of wet leaves

muffled keens
bursts of barks
distant yelps

the edgy din
of dripping
prowling
april 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 spark

in this soggy midnight
left high and dry
no muse in sight
only exhaustion

nothing clever
or profound
in the air this night

chilled
slack

uninspired

• • •

 

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Daddy’s Girl

•

shy knock at front door

lovely daughter descends stairs

who is this brash boy

shake his hand or run him off

daddy’s decision is tough

• • •


• poem and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010


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…see what other coin of phrase you might find at readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #20 – Heroes

This is my twentieth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• two free verse poem
• one tanka


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• inspired by Jessica GC’s prompt at read write poem

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Reality At 30,000

•

(a hero returns)

distant
slurred
reverberant

like a voice in a canyon
I hear her calling in my mind
my name
rolling sweet as nectar
from lips soft as orchid petals
full as a bursting peach
glistening deep coral
as they wrapped softly
‘round each pouted syllable
when she bid me tender farewell
so long ago

our fingertips had strained to grasp
until the final sensation of warmth
of touch
had faded
and they had drifted apart

I had struggled to tear my eyes
from her tears
that glistened on her lashes
and around her swollen crystal blue eyes
to slip softly over the crests
of her velvet cheeks
then down the contour of her face
flushed as sunset
to lightly salt her quivering lips

and as I passed
numb and dazed
through the tunnel of the loading gate
toward the jet
that took me to hell
I had at that moment
locked the image
of that sorrowed face of love
deep in my heart

It had proved my salvation
my only grasp on sanity
in those horrific years
over there

my lips too had quivered on that day
with the sting of separation
and the chilling knowledge
I would soon taste the bitter blood of war
foul with the stench of death

having not yet departed
I had already longed to gaze again
into her brilliant blue eyes
and taste her sweetness

yet

as I return this day
trying to face reality
from 30,000 feet
I taste the salt of sadness

for I fear
a kiss from me
with my killer’s mouth
will forever defile the fragile innocence
of those luscious lips
soft as orchid petals
full as a bursting peach
that glistened
and quivered
when last we parted

• • •

 

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Eternal

•

tears on flushed pale cheeks

warm held hand grows cool and still

she has left this earth

my love is now eternal

how do I face tomorrow

• • •

 

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…here is a bonus “whimsical” poem written in response to the day 19 prompt at poetic aside


 

Phineas & Phlo

•

phineas morton is not a happy guy
that’s not to say he’s sad
he just decided long ago
not to live life on the extremes
so he would describe himself as
well
as centered
yes
phineas morton is a centered guy

he lives in the abandoned hull
of a short
yellow
school bus
left there by his parents
when he was 12
as they went off to find
well
to find happiness

this situation may also account
for his less than enthusiastic embrace
of the whole concept of
well
of happiness

phineas dreams of
someday
doing something
something
well
something interesting
shunning the extreme nature
of
of great
he is not really interested
in doing something
great
interesting will do just fine

he has a girlfriend
well
sort of a girlfriend
more like a
well
like a girl acquaintance
that sounds less “on the edge”
which suits his centeredness
just fine

her name is flo
though she has come to spell it
phlo
as an expression
of her affinity for phineas
you know
phineas and phlo
the whole ph
sounds like f
thing
you know f
fuh f fuh

well
anyway
phineas wants everyone to know
that while he waits for his
interesting life to begin
he can be found
out by ole’ doc patterson’s pond
in his shell of a bus

you’re more than welcome to come by
just
if you do
don’t be too happy
if you know what I mean
doesn’t sit well with the lad

so if you come by
bring some jelly beans
red jelly beans
because
well
just because

and a tip from me
if you do drop in on phineas
don’t be clever
you know
don’t make any wisecracks about
well
no “short bus” remarks
ok

ok

• • •



• poems and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

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…check out the other heroes at readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #19 – Ah Hah!

This is my nineteenth post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one limerick
• one tanka


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• inspired by Rallentanda’s day 19 prompt at read write poem

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Surplus

•

it struck me the moment I met you
I just didn’t want to upset you
didn’t know how you’d act
if I acknowledged the fact
but now that you’ve asked guess I’ll have to

I know that we’ve only just met
it’s not something I’ll soon forget
but since you want to know
I’ll deliver the blow
but wait cause I’m not ready yet

I fear I’ll be breaking your heart
perhaps tearing your world apart
dropping this kinda news
is like lighting a fuse
so please give me a running head start

this is not what I’d hoped to discuss
and you must know you’ve got a surplus
but man in those slacks and shirt
you’d make a blind man’s eyes hurt
so, do you hold that thing up with a truss

• • •



…now before anyone judge me too harshly, let it be known that I have more in common with this gentleman than I care to admit, and — I couldn’t help myself, I believe the devil made me write this…

 

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Eureka

•

it’s as clear as day

nothing needed to be said

it’s so obvious

should have seen it right away

suddenly it was – Of Course!

• • •


• limerick and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

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…check out the other ah-hah’s at readwritepoem

NaPoWriMo #7 – Free / Ready to Roll / Old School

This is my seventh post for National Poetry Month 2010
• one free verse poem
• one haiku
• one onomatopoeia
• one noxious fume

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Free

•

fueled by the freedom of the open road
we race our way into the sunset
leaning tightly into curves
wind whipping our hair
our knees tucked
heads down
we rocket

thriving on the thrill of the throttle
embracing the magnificence
living in the moment
not counting time
or keeping track
just being
free

• • •

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Ready to Roll

•

engine oil changed

grips cleaned tire pressure checked

spring’s highway beckons

• • •




 

Old School

•

(onomatopoeia)

kick down — kick down — kick down

rest

kick down — kick down

rrrroarrr

rev rev rev rev

• • •

poem, haiku, and onomatopoeia verse by: rob kistner © 2010

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Here’s a little sumpin’ sumpin’ I wrote for Alan Summers’ day 7 RWP prompt: “humor in love”.

 

Phew

•

who knew lovemaking would end
with my lover breaking wind
oh god did that foul stench offend
we’ll not soon make sweet love again

here’s one thing that I’ll be hope’n
if we do the windows open
no refried beans next time we’re flirty
‘cause on a scale of ten that fart’s a thirty

•

(in tanka form)

our loving did end
when my sweet lover broke wind
a stench to offend

no beans next time we’re flirty
ten scale – that fart’s a thirty

• • •

poem and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

• photorendering of man holding nose from: Getty Images — modified by: rob kistner 2010

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…for more NaPoWriMo 2010 day seven poems: readwritepoem

Unyeilding

 

 

Unyeilding

•

my muse is hard to capture
though I do try each day
just goes so fast

I turn around
it’s past me in a blur
leaving little inspiration

each day becomes each night
here I sit in the wee hours
while the sane sleep
steeped in contradiction

thoughts vague
filled with doubt
words tossed about the unyielding page

I start then stop
I write then not
caught mercilessly unclear
in terminal hesitation
in quiet rage

fickle muse – please…
a spark to light this dark
that grips me like a cage

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photo collage entitled “Seeking the Muse” – by: rob kistner © 2007
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…see who is going fast at Carry On Tuesday

…discover who is hesitating at One Single Impression

So Amusing

…this is a fond homage to Theodor Seuss Geisel and Sheldon Alan Silverstein…

 

 

So Amusing

•

what is it you find so amusing my dear
perhaps it’s the fact I have only one ear
it makes it difficult to accurately hear
so you’ll have to speak that much louder I fear

yes it’s true, as you see, I have only my right
the left was cut off in a terrible fight
and I have not been quite the same since that night
it’s hard to be happy when you’re a pitiful sight

my glasses are impossible to keep on my face
and my hat just refuses to stay in its place
where there once was an ear I have only a space
but having one ear surely is no disgrace

with only a right ear my intake’s askew
I only hear things from a right point of view
so my right point of view I assume to be true
and therefore it’s righteous — what I think and do

now what is it you find so amusing my dear
I hope you’re not laughing at my missing ear
I suggest you had better stop pointing, you hear
’cause a righteous right-eared man is someone to fear

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

…discover what else is so amusing at Carry On Tuesday

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

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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Fashion Faux Pas

NaPoMo poem #23

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

This is a bit of whimsy inspired by the read write poem NaMoWriMo prompt #23, “a different hat”.

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

 

Fashion Faux Pas

(‘hoot’ couture)

•

I see you smirking at my hat
it’s aluminum foil – imagine that
it helps with my cell phone reception
and fascinates my cat

keeps UV rays off my bald cranium
collects morning dew for my geraniums
makes me invisible to radar
and impervious to uranium

when wearing it I’m seen from space
the reflection helps conceal my face
when raining it will never rust
it’s aerodynamic if I run a race

it made my paper’s style page
and it will soon be all the rage
the good news — one size fits all
and it’s great to line your birdcage

so don’t make fun of my chapeau
it’s great for people on the go
and quite handy if you’re grilling out
or wrapping take home from the bistro

a tip in closing I will bestow
don’t use tin, it’s crass and low
folks will stare and shake their head
tin is such a fashion ‘no’

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Offbeat

NaPoMo poem #18-A

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

This poem was inspired by a prompt at Sunday Scribblings. Prompt was “language”.

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

 

Offbeat

•

it’s fine that logic’s lost behind me
I might just loose my mind completely
sanity is overrated
it don’t mean much you see

so who’s to say that I can’t fly
and whose right is it to question why
I wear my trousers inside out
it keeps the pockets dry

I see you smirking at my hat
it’s aluminum foil – imagine that
it helps with my cell phone reception
and fascinates my cat

yes I do lose track of time
days and weeks – is that a crime
you know it’s all just one’s perspective
you’ve got yours I’ve got mine

and I’ve a language of my own
like no other that you’ve known
I speak it only to myself
when I am all-alone

now if you see me on the street
ignore the cowbells on my feet
I’ve chosen to live my life my way
I’m not nuts — I’m just offbeat

• • •

 

rob kistner © 2009

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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

15 Days To Go

NaPoMo poem #16

This is the sixteenth of the poems I will be writing each day here in 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.

 

15 Days To Go

•

I just sit here and stare
my creative cupboard’s bare
I find I just can’t write
but I can’t be up all night
not when there’s still 15 days to go

no matter how hard I try
I just come up dry
I am most bereft
I’ve nothing poetic left
and there’s still 15 days to go

I’m not at all amused
that my muse has refused
to offer inspiration
and to add to my frustration
there’s still 15 days to go

I think perhaps I’ll draw
and hope that this will thaw
my rock-hard writers freeze
I beseech you sweet muse – please
there’s still 15 days to go

I’ve struggled and I’ve stammered
I think I’ll just get hammered
if I really tie one on
the pain will all be gone
screw it, it’s only 15 days – ya know

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

Ziggy

NaPoMo poem #7

This is the seventh of the poems I will be writing each day here in 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.

 

Ziggy

•

ivory silk french-cuffed bar-collared shirt
soft as butter sweet as cream dessert

cuff links of diamonds and pure white gold
a heady treasure – bourgeois and bold

pearl-stick-pinned satin tie knotted tight
elegant as paris on a saturday night

desert-tan gabardine three-pleat slacks
euro-cuffed razor-creased sharp as tacks

snakeskin braces buttoned sterling bright
hip and killer as a rattler’s bite

black-patton striders with alligator spats
steppin’ out classy as the coolest cats

fine pinstriped linen coat double-breasted
uptown savvy and velvet vested

full-blocked rolled-brim felt chapeau
in the deepest red of a fine bordeaux

he was crisp and smooth as a dry martini
they all called him ziggy
but his name was bob

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem

 

SeaLife

 

SeaLife

•

To the seaside she strolls
with me
On a sunny seaside day

Into the sea she slips
alone
Then silently swims away

The sea opens up and
swallows
In its watery deep sea way

Soon she’ll be down with the
fishes
Aswim in the seabed’s sway

Serene in the spledor of
sea life
Neptune’s beauty in array

She seeks solace in this
sea world
These blues keep her blues at bay

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

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drawing above entitled: “marea roja” — by: Lady Orlando

• • •

…poem inspired by read write image #5, found at “readwritepoem”

 

Poems of the heart…

 

Following here you will find a whimsical poem entitled “Heartbreaker”, and humorous haiku entitled “The Color of Love”, each inspired by this Kyknoord illustration, which is offered as a visual prompt at “readwritepoem”.

 

Heartbreaker

•

this is a broken heart you see
this broken heart belongs to me
it once was vital whole and strong
‘till one day beauty came along

she reached in and stole my heart
but fickle beauty did depart
she’d found a better heart she said
and left mine hanging by a thread

my heart grew heavy with her farewell
my heart-thread snapped and down it fell
my fragile heart crashed to the ground
pieces shattered all around

I’ve tried hard to make it whole again
but I’m not sure how, and can’t say when
so it’s still a broken heart you see
a broken heart that belongs to me

• • •

 

The Color of Love

A HAIKU

•

May, the month of love

red, the color of love — yikes

I’m touching my heart

• • •

“Heartbreaker” and “The Color of Love” written by: rob kistner © 2008

 

So Good

• Here is a bit of lighthearted noir tongue-in-cheek…

So Good

•

do not take this as precocious
but in business I’m ferocious

I wheel the deal with an artist’s feel
I rip the meat down to the bone

if I do say so – I’m incredible
so good, I’m almost edible

brains and brawn, I’m bright as the dawn
I’m on my game and in the zone

unyielding in a meeting
I administer a beating

I kill their will, I’m king of the hill
my demeanor is cold as stone

I am hungry and I’m ruthless
while the others all seem toothless

they hop, then drop, it’s me at the top
yes at the top I stand alone

at the top

I am

alone

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

Outragesauras

Outragesauras

•

beware the outragesauras

gluttonous drive-time dinosaurs

dreaded treaded behemoths
that bully across the face of our crippled planet
devouring resources
like a herd of metallic mastodons

a relentless forage of fragile fossil fuel
to suck dry the paleozoic nectar
300 million years in the making

a fraction of that in the plunder

they spew forth poisonous discharge
fouling the atmosphere
pummeling our frail ecosystem

shoving earth closer
ever closer
to the brink of no return
to satisfy toxic arrogance

extinction’s revenge

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

cartoon by: mike baldwin

• discover other dinosaurs at readwritepoem