Pepper’d Memories

 

Yes — I was the walrus
so too the fool on the hill
I was the nowhere man
sometime I feel nowhere still

but when the Fab4 took the stage
and raised their voice in song
they roused my golden slumber
my spirit sang along

I strolled to strawberry fields
along sweet penny lane
and when miss Rigby died
I felt McKenzie’s pain

stowed in the submarine
and sailed beneath the waves
down with the octopus
among the coral caves

and when the sergeant
struck up his lonely hearts club band
I fell in step by step
to march off to Pepperland

but before I’d hit the road
I ended up wounded in my bed
a delinquent name of Maxwell
took a hammer to my head

he’d come through the bathroom window
I forgot to shut it tight
I should have known better
but it’d been a hard day’s night

my friends had called for help
doctor Robert came in time
I’d said doc don’t let down
he did not — and I feel fine

cops searched helter skelter
looked here there and everywhere
but they found clues for no one
I said let it be I didn’t care

leaving home, you won’t see me
I said heading out the door
when I saw her standing there
my lover from the night before

oh darling let’s go day trippin’
I want to hold your hand
down this long and winding road
it won’t be long to Pepperland

now we’ve come together here
me and my sweet belle Michelle
she’s been writing paperback novels
the kind the drugstores sell

we have no plans to get back
we’re swept up in the allure
of Lucy and her diamond skies
on our magical mystery tour

even with George and Johnny dead
that old magic’s not yet slipped away
because old Paully‘s discovered AI
so a brand new tune is on the way

it will be so very cool
to hear them once again
to remember those wondrous days
get to relive them now and then

*
rob kistner © 4/5/11
expanded version: rob kistner © 6/13/23

Poetry at: dVerse

 


Love’s Summer Serenade / Seaside

These first written & published for NaPoWriMo 2010

 
Love’s Summer Serenade

sing to me my sweet sweet lover
songs as soft as silk and satin
sensual as a bare embrace
warm summer sun upon our face

promise me the world is ours
that this perfect moment’s endless
lift me up on rapture’s cloud
my racing heart is pounding loud

make melody set sail our souls
fill our hearts with passion’s fire
smother me in scorched sweet kisses
oh what a fiery bliss this is

come to me and take me timeless
sweep me off to ecstasy
enfold me in your deepest dreams
simmering under summer moonbeams

so hot we’re looking for some shade
aflame in love’s sensual serenade

*

 
Seaside

soft sand warms bare toes

senses stirred by surging surf

summer at seaside

love as fresh as ocean breeze

kisses hot as sizz’ling sun

*
rob kistner © 2010
revised © 2023

More poetry at: dVerse

 




Waltz of Youth



 

W ith the heft and smooth sheen
of the beautiful sculpted body
caressed lovingly
between her nubile legs
her excitement stirs
her anticipation grows

eager and confident
she lays tingling hands upon it

engaging the sure strength
of her lithe knowing essence
and the firm deft touch
of her pristine fingers
the brilliant young cellist
ignites the dance

strong slender legs
carry firm yearning bodies
perfumed and cologne’d
around and across
the crowded dance floor
pulses alive

budding passion
craving — yet hesitant
swept up in innocent bliss

the waltz of youth
rising and falling
to the rich give and take
of the cellist’s bow

she lifts the energy
coaxing the passion
of the beautiful dance

with her nimble sway
and precision movements
delicately she envisions
the flowing notes

lovely face
in rhythmic expression
eyes sometimes closed
she dreams the music

wholly consumed
by the seductive strains
the enlivened dancers
sweep round and round
bodies a’glisten
in smoldered embrace
bathed in the chandelier’s
golden glow

further fired by stolen kisses
and breathy whispers
of promised love
and naive forevers

dawning lives
in the tender grasp
of blooming desire
and the velvet touch
of mad magical
magnificent music
*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse


 


…a little “out of this world” music…

 

To Us


To all d’Verse poets — Salùte!

 
L et us drink deep
this wine of friendship
ripened well with time
aged to a vintage true

may this nectar rare
sweeten all our days
may its heady warmth
linger long and lush
lighten life’s burdens
and ever lift our spirits

here’s to us!

rob kistner © 2021

More poetry at: dVerse


 

Seductive Fantasy


…a stream of consciousness trip…

 

Soaring psychedelic
colors pierce my eyes
to bleed into my mind
pulsing into shapes
and melting forms
dancingly irregular
a brilliant cacophony
of fully beautiful discord
that flows in time displacement
blared breathing blending abstract

wow dude!
~~ drifting drifting ~~

so wondrous and magical
as to create a dreamspace
where reality steps away
to a seductive fantasy
that roils and broils
a seething serenade
of sounds and vision
a sanctified vibration

simply too gone!
immaculate!

joyful noise’d orblets
flaring and flashing
in hues and shades
in timbre’d cadences
they spark stiletto sharp
stabbing staccato’d stealthy
and again colors pierce my eyes
lovely rumblings fill full my ears
shifting spinning and floating
to journey a’new through
my beautiful bountiful
and utterly blown
mind garden

}|=|{

psssst! hey! you!
am I conscious man —
— or halluuucinating truuuth?

rob kistner © 2021

Day 1 poetry at: NaPoWriMo 2021


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

Heartfire (redux)

…I did a gentle edit and rewrite of this poem from a year ago,
in response to the May 2nd prompt at Big Tent Poetry

 

HeartFire

•

the velvet nape
of your slender neck
swept with wisps
of silken hair

the tender swell
of your pouted lips
blossomed full
in comely glisten

your quiet sighs
of smouldered passion
hushed and low
in twilight deep

sterling moonlight
that fondles you
in slumber nude
‘neath midnight’s window

autumn sunrise
crisp and fresh
blushed coral
on your waking smile

sunlight’s gold
that falls dreamlike
filtered soft
in old growth forest

unspoiled nature
to far horizons
from where I gaze
on mountain’s crest

christmas eve
a quiet snow
fresh fragrant cedar
my child’s joy

splendid jazz
inspired verse
an evening breeze
a soul-felt tear

pristine beaches
pacific sunsets
silvered waterfalls
laughter with you

what fires my heart
what stirs my soul
what turns me on
these are a few

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

“One of my former band members, who was with me in the band in the 1960’s, that inspired this poem from 2011, came to visit me a couple months ago. I had written a haibun at the time in his honor, which I shared here on dVerse. That haibun was inspired by this original poem. I just learned that he died Monday in Geneva, Switzerland. In his memory I am sharing this original poem today, August 22, 2019.”

…originally written for Day #19, NaPoWriMo 2011…



 
Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

~

our final set was 3:00 am
the gear’s broke down and stowed
now here we sit
with smuggled single malt
and the crusty sunrise special

me and my bles-sed band
bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
mixin’ with fellow players
who’ve now
laid down their last licks
for this night

among willing groupies
the loud hangers on
and my sad friend Joey
just back from Viet Nam

we’re sittin’ and chattin’
with the steel-heart working girls
and sweet soul-bruised painted strippers
they love us ‘cause we’re brothers
in this family of the night

all in the flesh parade
of 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

huddled stark as morgue mates
hidin’ from those cruel first rays
like a pack of squandered vampires

ready to scurry off
to well-curtained rooms
or other dark holes of despair

it’s time to make that final score
whatever gets you through
‘till sundown strikes up the band again

I’ll tell ya
ain’t this show biz grand
it’s cirque du morning madness
all sneakin’ up on breakfast

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 4/19/11

____________________________

This photo below put me in mind of the 60’s when my band played the all-night R&B clubs in Newport Ky — the ‘wild’ night-world just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati. It sparked this poem.

…originally linked at Magpie Tales

 

  • Click below to read other poems at dVerse:
    Open Link Night #249

  • Limitless

    …limitless talent, unfathomable spirit…

    Limitless

    •

    • written for Writer’s Island

    Evening Grace


     
    Evening Grace

    ~

    as dusk descends
    my stride holds steady
    buoyed by the gentle embrace
    of the downing golden sun

    early shadows fall soft

    vesper’s velvet blanket
    drapes ’round my shoulders
    envelops me in calm

    there is still road to travel

    eager to keep the journey
    I’m drawn by the beauty
    of the rising moon in sunset

    coaxed by a soothing breeze
    I venture on toward my love

    rolling amber fires the lane
    spreads warm ‘cross the horizon

    mist begins to rise and waft

    nestled in the valley
    I see my hearth & home
    guilded copper in this eventide

    my heart quickens
    stirred by this gorgeous vale
    the ribbon of its brook
    entwines my soul in wonder

    my smile sweetens
    my pace livens
    I hum a quiet evensong
    in the grace of this splendid day

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010


    …artwork entitled “Evening Glory” by: Steven Mitchell

  • click below to enjoy more poems at dVerse:
    Open Link #277 – Live edition

  • To Soar

    This poem is offered in response to prompt #23 for 2010 at Writer’s Island,
    the Ginsberg ‘american sentence’ is offered in response to prompt #136 at One Single Impression.

    To Soar

    •

    to feel the warmth of early spring sun
    to wander through old growth
    to see the sunset into the pacific
    to breath in the fragrance of summer
    to see joy in another’s eyes
    to hear my child’s laughter
    to be breath-taken by art
    to be dazzled by autumn’s palette
    to taste the richness of chocolate
    to immerse in the rhythms of music
    to see the morning dew sparkle
    to hear the sweet lilt of a thrush
    to know the quiet of snowfall
    to raise my voice in song
    to drift on a clear mountain lake
    to get lost in poetry
    to feel your gentle touch

    …is to soar

    • • •

    to just try to fly is to fall short, one must expect to soar, then leap

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    HeartFire

    …I wrote this in response to the May 24th prompt at Big Tent Poetry

     

    HeartFire

    •

    the velvet nape
    of your slender neck
    swept with wisps
    of your silken hair

    the tender swells
    of your pouted lips
    blossomed full
    and glistening

    your quiet sighs
    of throaty passion
    breathy hushed
    in twilight deep

    autumn sunrise
    crisp and fresh
    blushed coral
    on your waking smile

    sterling moonlight
    that fondles you
    in naked slumber
    ‘neath midnight’s window

    sunlight’s gold
    that falls dreamlike
    filtered soft
    in old growth forest

    unspoiled nature
    to far horizons
    from where I watch
    on mountain’s crest

    a 6 series beamer
    cool and cruisin’
    down 101
    on a perfect day

    splendid jazz
    inspired verse
    christmas eve
    a soul-felt tear

    my child’s joy
    a quiet snow
    an evening breeze
    spiced with cedar

    pristine beaches
    pacific sunsets
    a waterfall
    laughing with you

    what fires my heart
    what stirs my soul
    what turns me on
    these are a few

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010


    _________________________________

    …from my archives, here is a bit more of what turns me on…


    Book of Ardor

    • In response to the 2nd prompt on the newly opened We Write Poems, this piece was inspired by my listening to the 1974 vinyl record album entitled “Mysterious Traveler”, by Weather Report.


    Weather Report was one of the earliest and most influential Jazz-Rock groups. Keyboardist Joe Zawinul and saxophone player Wayne Shorter formed the group in 1971. Both originally members of the Miles Davis’ group, they were joined by the legendary bassist, ,Jaco Pastorius, making Weather Report a milestone group of modern music…

    _____________________________
    …here is my poem inspired by their music…

    Book of Ardor

    •

    eyes dark and deep as nile nocturne
    scorching as nubian sundance
    this blackthorn rose
    is the secreted passion

    the sultry jungle goddess
    inscribed in the book of ardor

    fired in molten scarlet
    woman forged of earthen bronze

    ablaze in the sensual dreams
    of writhing midnight

    she is smoke and flame
    the mysterious traveler

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    ________________________________

    • The beautiful woman in the photo above is Jourdan Dunn

    NaPoWriMo #27

    This is my twenty-seventh post for National Poetry Month 2010
    • one acrostic
    • one tanka


    ____________________________________

    • inspired by Carolee Sherwood ‘s day 27 prompt at read write poem to write an acrostic

    ____________________________________


     

    Evolution

    •

    Even in chaos nature finds balance.

    Violent floods beget fertile fields.

    One thing ends, another begins.

    Life is a cycle of birth and death.

    Untamed wildfire creates forest ash.

    The ashen remains nurture growth again.

    In the caterpillar lives the butterfly.

    One thing ends, another begins.

    Now and forever, the mandella spins.

    • • •

     

    ____________________________________


     

    Stone Fox First

    •

    garage sound check great

    groupies at the ludlow door

    allmans soon to start

    damned duane is still m-i-a

    we stone fox boys are ready

    • • •


    • acrostic and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

    ____________________________________

    …check out who’s gettin’ acrostic at readwritepoem

    NaPoWriMo #26 – Power / Alternatives

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


    ____________________________________

    • inspired by Jill Crammond Wickham’s day 26 prompt at read write poem

    ____________________________________


     

    Power

    •

    let us speak of power

    the writer’s words
    the artist’s eye
    the craftsman’s hands
    the singer’s voice
    the player’s soul
    the actor’s courage

    all who rise up in creativity
    to share their gift

    who elevate our humanness
    shun our negative self

    who share their spirit to inspire

    who see great possibility
    in the face of great challenge

    who will not succumb
    but prevail
    as a kindled flame
    to light our darkness

    theirs is the power
    they are the powerful
    for they empower

    • • •

     

    ____________________________________


     

    Alternatives

    •

    three hundred miles gone

    we’re just above dream canyon

    big storm front building

    cycles won’t make the snow pass

    guess we point our two wheels south

    • • •


    • poem and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

    ____________________________________

    …check out the other offerings at readwritepoem