Dark Love

WARNING! This is dark!


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Love’s Sin” by: rob kistner © 11/16/23

 

D o you think
you’re not still my slave
since digging yourself
from that earthen grave

since you sullied
your delicate hands
clawing up and out
of my bottom lands

do you think
you’re safe

think perhaps
that I don’t know
where you are
as you come and go

do you think
that I don’t feel you
with my every breath
that I don’t breathe you

do you not understand
that I hold your life
in my clenching hand

really – don’t you

do you think at all
foolish girl

anytime I want you
you are mine

anytime

you know I love you
you love me too
with a love uncommon
you know you do

don’t you

you are mine
it’s true

forever

you are not free
your every move
is known to me
your every thought
is mine to see
your every fear
mine to trigger

feel your terror
as it’s growing bigger


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Dark Love”
by: rob kistner © 11/16/23

I watch you walking
every dark late night
while I hide under
my dim street light

you will not know
whence I may come
I am the shadow
you are running from

the stranger hidden
across the street
the sudden sound
that startles you
from your sleep

so cling mindlessly
to your false hope
as ‘round your slender neck
my fingers grope

you think I’m mad
well that may be
but that’s too bad
for you
not me

you pray
they catch me
we’ll see
won’t we

your nightmare is
I’ll not be caught

well
that dream’s come true
for I will naught


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Dark Love’s Captive”
by: rob kistner © 11/16/23

you hope I make
a big mistake
dare a close call
risk my downfall

foolish girl
there is no risk

for I am brilliant
wicked cunning
you’ve felt my power
is it not stunning

does my magnificence
make you afraid
as staring in my eyes
you feel resistance fade

you will not see me
in the cold dark rain
but you feel me squirming
in your troubled brain

as I’m creeping quiet
from behind
to steal your mortal life
as I am so inclined
as terror shivers
up and down
your spine
remember always

you — are — mine


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Devil In A Downpour”
by: rob kistner © 11/16/23

*
rob kistner © 2021
edited rewrite © 2023

Poetry at: dVerse

 





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

 




SunsetGunn

NOTE — I borrowed lines and inspiration from my 2011 poem: Skye Fyre
 

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The SunsetGunn is loaded, the controls, in GunnMaster’s grip
calmly concentrating, he scans the horizon with careful eyes
the golden sun having made his journey, is weary from the trip
quicksilver moon will very soon, traverse the starry skies

Gaia rolls on gently, hushed in quiet space
GunnMaster has her skyline, locked squarely in his sight
Gaia pulls a veil of stars, slowly across her face
GunnMaster has a task, he needs complete before its night

he’s to set the sky ablaze, before he falls to sleep
a fiery coral-orange, twilight-blue, and crimson-red
in patterns broad and bold, in colors rich and deep
he carefully aims the SunsetGunn, and blasts it overhead

in a brilliant, blinding flash, he sets the dimming skies a’fire
in vivid hues, and lavish shades — the dusky sky ignites and burns
GunnMaster has succeeded, so for this night, he can retire
the SunriseGunn already loaded, in early morning, he returns

IMG_8599

*
rob kistner © 2023

Poetry at: dVerse

 



A few more from Animal Logic — GOOD SHIT!



Castle Walachia

~ I originally published this October of 2018, again Oct. 2019, now Oct. 2022. ~
Happy Halloween

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This castle is most ominous
since becoming Voivode of Wallachia
Vlad II has not followed his father’s example
no joy and celebration reverberates
through the greattooms, hallways, and towers
of this venerable old structure

it has become dark and foreboding
and rumored dangerous
even deadly

but I know they are not just rumors
there is a murderous evil dwells here
undead and otherworldly
bloodthirsty and cruel
a ruthless predator
whom I have come to slay

I must move quickly from this light
that pools incrementally
in this long
pungent
segmented hallway

there is some safety in the shadows
that linger tight
to the arch walls
so I bolt
through the full moon’s glow
that seeps silvered through the windows

I press myself
against the damp irregular surfaces
that are the stacked-stone
boundary breaks
of this eerie chiseled passage

I pause at each
listening
casting glances all ’round

this monster moves like a vapor
so what I can see
is far more important
than what I can hear
but still
I listen

this demon has servants
soul sworn to loyalty
that must move on foot
their approach I could hear
so fully alert
I employ all my senses
in my critical vigilence

stealthily I move
from archway to archway
until I reach the last

I halt
E3610F00-F899-4D98-B180-D31F9E59E23E
relaxing the tension
in my right hand
I carefuly open my fingers
very slightly
to close them tight again
feeling the smooth wooden shaft
of the stake I have carved
securely in my grasp

this is the weapon I’ll wield
to bring and end
to the ungodly bloodlust
of this ghastly creature
the good people here call
Dracula

as I stand here
back to the dampened wall
relief seasons my trepidation

nothing in my being
wants this dire mission
to which I am shackled

but it is only my hand
on the carved wood dagger
tightly in my sweating grip
that can bring an end
to my uncle’s unholy
reign of horror

I am the youngest male
of our cursed bloodline
so the brutal deed
falls to me

creeping ever forward
like a shade on the dank wall
I move cautiously closer
to the iron-laden
dense wood door
of his sleeping chamber

my heart pounding
my diaphram starved for breath
I feel I may pass out

but still I pursue
the evil incarnate
that lies coffin’d
in undead repose

suddenly
a noise
immediately behind me

it echoes through these catacombs
pierces my taut raw nerves
and instantly paralyzes me

trembling
I turn

no one there

hushed
I listen intently

no other sounds
save the blood
pulsing as a roar
in my ears

I begin to move
but again
I hear it

panicked
I jerk my head around
and see

in this frozen moment
my stressed mind deduces
the source of the noise

moisture
collecting on the stone ceiling
gathers overhead
into sagging condensation

it released
as a weighty droplet
splattering on the floor
just behind me
with a sharp startling slap

I relax a bit
enough to again draw
tensioned breath

several more labored
careful steps
and I place my hand
gently on the wrought handle
of the immense door

confirming the lethal dagger
quivering in my right hand
I reach
steadily as possible
into my pocket
and withdraw a strange key
I have secreted there
that allows me access
to his chamber

it is unnaturally heavy
and seems to emanate
an unearthly energy

I clutch it firmly
fearing if I lose my grip
I will lose my nerve

I guide the key
into the slot
of the ornate handle plate
seating it fully

slowly I begin to turn it

I feel the resistance
as the key’s teeth
engage with the bolt
and begin to grudgingly
draw it from its secure well

just before I have fully retracted it
I pause
my mind racing
blood pressure soaring
overcome by the magnitude
of what I am about to do

no turning back now
this must be done
and I must do it
but I am terrified

still I hesitate
attempting to gain
my much needed composure

I slow my heartbeat
steady my breathing
steel my resolve
and turn the key
its final quarter inch

the lock clicks
the handle releases
and the door unseats inwardly

this is it
fate has dealt the deck
I am both prisoner
and executioner
in this horrible game

I swing the door open
ever so gradually
eyes rapidly scanning
this vampire lair

and step in

this fate
my destiny


Vlad the Impaler – Dracula

*
rob kistner © 2018
revised © 2019
republished © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 


Northwest Autumn

It is three weeks until Autumn Equinox 2022. I first wrote and published this piece in 2008, significantly revised it in 2018, sharing it again on dVerse in response to a wonderful prompt by Amaya Engleking. I now have further refined it in small ways, and choose to share it again here in 2022. Much has changed in the 14 years since I first wrote this, but not my love for the Pacific Northwest, and most especially — Oregon. It is in the light of this abiding love, that I now share this piece once more here on dVerse, for OLN, September 1st, 2022. Peace!

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Autumn is upon us, as we enter our season of nature’s rest and replenishment here in the Pacific Northwest. The cycle of renewal will begin in western Oregon, where I lived for 25 years. I moved in 2015 to Seattle to be near my young grandson. Still immersed in Pacific Northwest beauty here, but Oregon will always hold my heart.

The summer’s dry period has ended, and agricultural irrigation has ceased. Harvesting explodes in October into November, including the grape harvest in our many vineyards. Following the gathering of this autumn bounty, the soil is left to recover. The fruit and nut trees, the vines in the vineyards, and the crop fields will begin the slow period of winter revitalization, in anticipation of the growing seasons to come in the new year. The Great Mandala of life turns steady. The rains that begin sporadically in late October, increasing into November, will work their magic — plumping Oregon’s world-class Christmas tree and holly crops, renewing the sparkle of these holiday icons, readying them for harvest.

Wild nature will also enter a period of recovery and renewal. The flowering plants that have dropped their petals, and the grasses and brush, gone late-summer golden, seek these nurturing rains. Mighty evergreens pause, conifers drop their cones, and deciduous trees shed their leaves all go dormant, and rest. The vast Northwest forests are enriched by this period of rejuvenation.

Streams, whose water levels have dropped considerably, will come to new life when rains begin to replenish their flow. Sockeye and Chinook salmon start their run upstream to begin their spawn. Rainbow, Brook, German Brown, and Cutthroat Trout, as well as numerous other species become active as waters rise and cool. Bear, deer, cougar, elk, coyote, big horn sheep, pronghorn antelope, hawk, osprey, eagle; the varied and plentiful wildlife of our region begin preparation for their unique winter rituals.

Autumn nudges into winter, a peaceful time of rest and restoration here in this breathtakingly beautiful region. A regenerative calm lies upon the lush land, as the season of sky-water arrives to quench nature’s thirst, and revivify her energies in this utopia.

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Just as the gardener
nurtures her tend
bending close
to nourish
and protect

so too nature stoops
to embrace
and refresh
her pacific northwest paradise

her autumn shadow upon the land
she leans down
and lets flow life-giving waters
to enrich this lush realm

she covers her beloved eden
in a soft blanket
of moist cloud

a shelter from chilled winter
to insure a rich bounty
when spring returns

abundant fruits
vegetables
and nuts

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hill-climbing vineyards

towering trees
too numerous to imagine

endless grasses
bushes
berries
and flowers

all will be spring succulent
from buildiing winter waters

mountain streams
valley rivers
swell with migrating fish

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as they journey home
up these fresh waters
of new birth

birds and animals
flock and gather
embraced by this season
of quiet replenish

in balanced step
and close harmony
with this cycle
they too
will welcome next spring
with plentiful new life

a sustaining love
this affair

life
nurtured to flourish
in the eventual spring

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*

published: rob kistner © 2008
revised: rob kistner © 2018
final revision: rob kistner © 2022

* More poetry at: dVerse

photos (top to bottom):

  • Autumn at Multnomah Falls, Oregon
  • Oregon Autumn rain on conifer needles
  • Autumn at Sokol Blosser Vineyards, Willamette Valley Oregon
  • Sockeye salmon, Deschutes River, Oregon
  • Autumn Cascade Mountain Lake, Oregon
  • This Night

    As you read this Christmas poem, with its taste of bittersweetness, see it not in a dark light — embrace it as a tale of a long-awaited journey, to be with the one beloved.


    digital collage entitled: “Christmas Tear” – by: rob kistner © 2011

     

    B rushed my shoulder on this morning’s train
    then at the market it was there again
    while in line to get my breakfast tea
    from our favorite table it beckoned me

    in the crowd at the festive mall
    glimpsed like a flicker of candle light
    I swear I saw it fleeting fall
    upon the gifts I did not wrap this night

    upon the tree I did not decorate
    the greeting cards I did not write
    in frail voice I chastise fate
    singing carols doesn’t feel right

    this season I see it everywhere
    the shadow of your love
    elusive as a shopper’s smile
    caught up in the crush and shove

    but soon I’ll catch and hold it close
    warmly to my breast
    it will sweetly fill my heart
    lay soft with me this midnight rest

    for it returns this night each year
    the same night you went away
    in dreams you kiss away each tear
    touch my lips that beg you stay

    taken from my life in sleep
    gone without a last goodbye
    as we dreamed at midnight deep
    each year I weep and wonder why

    but this year I’ll not awaken blue
    in the end an easy thing to do
    this night I’ll make our dreams come true
    this midnight deep I will come to you

    *
    rob kistner © 2011
    update by rob kistner © 2021

    Poetry at: dVerse

    This poem originally posted 2011: at Magpie Tales

    Your Car Sir


     

    Of course you have a choice sir
    of course
    we all have choices sir

    one always has a choice
    the very same choice
    you
    and the rest of us
    have enjoyed
    since birth

    we can choose to live
    we can choose to die
    we can choose to smile
    we can choose to cry
    about it all

    we can choose
    to get the facts
    to understand
    or just wonder why

    but we all must choose
    you must choose

    this car sir
    will take you
    to tomorrow

    so if you’d like
    to see tomorrow
    get in!
    now!

    the next car back?

    sir
    that car
    will never see tomorrow

    but it will be up
    in just a moment — sir
    if you prefer

    *
    rob kistner © 2021

    Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

    Poetry Pantry at: Poets & Storytellers

     

    WARNING: adult lyrics

    Sweetest Taboo


     

    S ucculent nectar of full plumped peach
    laid bare engorged deliciousness
    peeled open in promised sweet delight
    ecstatic vision of tender flesh

    tart sweet tingle at tip of tongue
    such sweetness surely is taboo
    my mouth thrills at the juicy pulp
    my lips glisten sweetest nectar’s dew

    breathing in the rich bouquet
    all senses teased and tantalized
    my mouth devours the dripping treat
    again and again ‘til satisfied

    *
    rob kistner © 2021

    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


    Frozen Man

    Vote = Voice — Speak Up! 2CC45105-E580-4197-9120-35D724A74CF8

    Voting HELP: CLICK HERE

     


    line art: “Frozen Man” — rob kistner © 2008

     

    Stopping Is No Option

    ~

    — QUADRILLE —

    Stopping is no option

    giving up
    is giving in
    grip letting go of dreams

    frozen is the frightened man
    withered in a worried cage

    happy is a voting man
    a hero heard and heeded

    stopping is no option
    for the times
    they are a’changin’

    rob kistner © 2020

    ~ ~

    — COMPLETE VERSION —

    * Watch me read Frozen Man complete version: CLICK HERE

    Stopping is no option

    to lose the way is to keep going
    keep moving forward
    lest one atrophies
    rigid with despair
    paralyzed with doubt
    locked in hopelessness
    bound by fear

    the giving up
    is the giving in
    is the rot that sets
    with the loss of wonder
    when grip lets go of dreams

    loss of faith debilitates the soul
    cripples the manifest light
    that shines so bright
    at the leap into sacred uncertainty
    so bright
    as to boldly illuminate truth

    frozen is the frightened man
    withered in a worried cage

    terrified of the wrong step
    of the journey all in
    of daring the way unmarked

    wounded by fear
    bleeding out the color of life
    hemorrhaging joy
    exsanguinating possibility

    a cold brittled husk
    mired in regret
    for never having shone so brightly
    as to blind the eyes of death
    as to light the way of truth

    valiant is a voting man
    a hero heard and heeded
    a cry of dissatisfaction
    a voice of change
    a stand for defiance

    stopping is no option

    so senators and congressmen
    you best heed the call
    don’t stand in the doorway
    don’t block up the hall
    for they that will lose
    will be they who have stalled

    so brothers and sisters
    raise up your hand
    let it be known
    throughout the land
    if we want change
    we must take a stand

    NO
    stopping is no option

    for the times
    they are a-changin’

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2008
    revision © 2020

     


     

    NOTE: To read more about folly: CLICK HERE

    The Secret

    IMG_8614
    photo collage: “The Secret” — by: rob kistner © 1997

     
    The Secret

    ~

    from the dawn of awareness
    through the dark times
    beyond the ages of change
    into these times

    they have kept it
    the keepers of the secret

    and now
    with great fortitude of will
    to safequard frail truth
    they must keep it still

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019


     

  • Click for more dVerse poetry:
    Quadrille #91 – Keep

  • Savior

    E653E151-3EC9-47D4-94CE-771B62FC1B04

     
    Savior

    ~

    I remember when it happened
    remember well
    the blinding flash
    that sent me scurrying
    underground
    into my private bunker

    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

     

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

  • LONG-FORM, FREE-VERSE, SCI-FI ADVENTURE/LOVE POEM

  • Far-Worlds Corp research space schooner “Thadius”

     
    Distant Farewell

    ~

    “I’ve watched
    golden fire clouds,
    hanging in pale green skies,
    over the azure seas of Toluras

    I’ve seen the copper leaves
    of the parmus fronds
    flashing from indigo mountains
    in the crystal mists of Gemin.

    I have beheld exquisite beauty
    in my rich, full life
    but none so beautiful
    as your eyes tonight”

    this Artheo whispers
    his breath warms
    the tender lobe
    of my eager ear

    he presses his lips
    softly to mine
    with gentle passion
    bids me farewell

    now three hours past
    I linger in the bittersweetness

    I can still taste him

    here I am
    hurtling through space
    standing on the aft deck
    gazing

    reliving the kiss
    a sudden chill
    shocks me sober

    been here, done this
    precisely this
    in every detail

    impossible

    it’s my first time aboard

    a foreboding grips me

    I shiver as I watch
    the jade-sapphire orb
    grow smaller
    less relevant

    it now recedes
    less visible
    through the carbon-Lucite

    zero-g frost
    forms and obscures
    this breathtaking view
    of the lush planet

    our home planet
    Gaia

    a place
    some now on board
    will not again see
    for fifteen years

    if they are
    counted among
    the fortunate
    who do return

    we race
    exceeding light-speed
    toward a distant
    call for help

    unknown destiny
    in uncharted space
    with no idea
    what we will encounter

    the call made it certain
    no good lay ahead

    36959008-29B1-417B-B92B-2DA45555B906

    I am Sephias
    going to Topiarus
    to return
    in a year’s time

    I am distraught

    the anxiety
    of separation

    intense pressure
    permeates the crew
    who go the distance
    to the edge of space
    to answer
    the cry for help

    it is contagious
    I feel this too

    I feel ungrounded
    each time I choose
    to leave my man
    to go on mission

    my soul mate
    Artheo

    our love is deep

    it has withstood
    these essential
    separations

    we understood
    when I joined Far-Worlds
    that separation
    came with the program

    but knowing this
    makes it no easier

    my anxiety
    is heightened further
    given this mission’s
    uncertainty

    at Far-Worlds Corp
    we are involved
    in new-resources
    exploration

    we’re scientists
    not trained spacetroopers

    our expertise
    not military

    this ship
    the Thadius
    is a space schooner
    solar-wind powered

    a research vessel
    not a fast and agile
    battle cruiser

    not suited
    for space combat

    the security force
    we have on board
    trained to defend
    not to attack

    they protect us
    from known threats
    on our journeys
    through known space

    this mission’s different

    the unknown
    makes this dangerous

    the Dextorium
    was an advance ship
    sent to reconnoiter
    9 months ahead

    the Dextorium
    did in fact carry
    a battle-trained
    spacetrooper force

    but it has now
    fallen silent
    for many months

    the green glow
    of the interstellar
    contact indicator orb
    means they’re out there

    but silence
    not a word

    stream

    to take my mind
    off things disturbing
    I drift to Artheo
    to our last kiss

    he presented
    a calm brave face
    at our goodbye

    but I knew better

    now together
    two centuries
    rest assured
    I know my man

    as decorated Primests
    of the Science-Sect Elite
    we are privileged
    with three birthing cycles

    to improve the human strain
    a 40-year
    no-birthing period
    our second
    now nears its end

    soon
    we will enter
    our third
    free-birthing cycle

    we both welcome
    the sabbatical
    of twenty years
    that it affords

    we’ve begotten
    families
    in prior cycles
    and love them both

    we now dream
    of this newest family
    our near future
    holds in store

    this coming family
    is most important
    in our lives
    Artheo’s and mine

    state edicts dictate
    3rd cycle families
    caretake their fosters
    as health declines

    as we move closer
    to our stand down
    and cryogenic
    hibernation

    this new family
    will be our comfort
    as our current life-phase
    draws to a close

    as I reflect
    I am disrupted

    a sudden chaos

    panicked commotion
    on the foredeck

    there is great alarm

    I rush forward
    in time to see
    a startling scene
    begin to unfold

    there
    directly in front
    of our speeding ship
    menacing fields of energy

    they begin to spread
    linking together
    with apparent logic
    forming a grid
    blocking our path

    acting intelligently
    as though a sentient
    living thing

    6FF94A1C-DB1C-4C39-817D-5A5A040E2050

    they are immense
    and they are many
    as they assemble
    into a spherical net
    continually expanding
    as far as one can see
    it is there

    spread far too vast
    to travel around
    their advancing speed
    we cannot outrun

    as we approach
    the pulsing web
    their acceleration
    becomes exponential

    no doubt we’re on
    a collision course

    suddenly
    my senses jolt
    I stagger back
    in shock and awe

    it is now quite clear
    what fate befell
    our advance party
    and it appears others

    they’ve been, well
    they’ve been absorbed
    by this horrific
    electronic death-mesh

    we are defenseless

    we on the Thadius
    can only stare
    frightened
    but spellbound

    the crew’s emotions
    now run the gamut
    tears fill most eyes
    as hell approaches

    then I see more clearly
    in the eerie violet
    sphere of energy
    closing upon us
    tiny multi-color specks

    B0BAAB26-E387-4921-9D3B-3F363F9CACA8

    captured life-energies
    of the Dextorium crew
    and countless others
    that have come before

    their vital essence
    has been consumed
    by this entangled nightmare
    that now besets us

    their images flicker
    in and out of focus
    trapped in the grid
    held fast and hopeless

    empty faces
    of complete surrender
    translucent
    dead eyes
    living ghosts

    this thing is coming
    this host of evil

    terrified
    I feel helpless
    so confused
    and so alone

    its then I rush
    to my solarcomm
    to send a message
    to Artheo

    holding a Droon orb of light
    bravely I begin
    first sharing poetry
    as is our custom

    IMG_8614

    “we have walked quietly hand in hand
    in the emerald meadows of Telma
    sharing its golden angelfruit
    sweet as our stolen kisses

    we’ve heard the haunting call
    of the coral winged Lellurt
    in Droon’s violet skies
    over teal Darpin Bay


    now fate deems we part
    see this Orb of Light
    it is my true heart
    when I am gone
    it will shine on
    sweet Artheo
    it is my love
    eternally”

    “right now,
    I want to hear
    your soothing voice
    my precious love.”

    “I would give the world
    to hear your voice.”

    I am speaking
    in a tone controlled
    yet laced with longing
    and melancholy

    “I love you my dearest
    but something bad
    is happening now
    here where I am”

    “there’s a chance”
    then I must pause
    collect myself
    to start again

    “there is a chance,
    I may not return
    to you again,
    to our sweet life”

    here my voice quavers
    and then it cracks
    as I try to add,
    “or — to our children.”

    grasping for courage
    I go on

    “if this is
    to be my end
    it falls to you
    to raise them now”

    “please let them see
    they’re loved forever
    protect them well
    and keep them safe”

    it’s now a struggle
    to form the words
    but filled with love
    I press on

    “remember my eggs.
    they are safely stored
    at the Off-World Corp’s
    Reproductive Center.”

    “my surrogate
    has been selected
    she is tested
    and bonded pure”

    “you must see
    our new family born
    Zenus and Rennar — born

    please promise me!”

    choking back
    so many emotions
    I now fight
    to conclude the message

    this is the last
    I will ever send
    to my beloved
    Artheo

    these are the last words
    he’ll hear me speak

    moonfall2

    “these children,
    Zenus and Rennar,
    will be the final connection
    between you and I”

    “remember forever
    they are a part
    of each of us
    my darling one”

    “he and she
    will care for you
    and see you through
    your dimming years.”

    “they will love you
    as you’ll love them
    give them my love
    tell them about me.”

    voice faltering badly
    I rise to finish
    and share with Artheo
    my final words

    “god, oh god,
    how I want you
    here in my arms
    my one true love!”

    with that,
    my heart breaks
    as I stare silently
    into the screen

    teardrops streaming
    down my cheeks

    12 hours later
    the message arrives
    on Artheo’s
    commstation screen

    he is gripped
    by disbelief
    at what he sees
    at what he hears

    consumed by horror
    unable to move
    he stands trembling

    frozen by grief

    as he sees
    my message end
    my image flickers
    and then it fades

    Artheo
    falls to his knees
    without sound
    silent for some time

    then
    with a growing mix
    of fear and sorrow
    on his ashen face

    he throws back his head
    thrusts up his arms
    straight and stiff
    fists clenched in anger

    clenched so tightly
    nails
    cut into palms
    and bring forth blood

    bloodied hands
    whitened knuckles
    stab at the stars

    he keens and moans
    then begins to wail

    the guttural
    heart-rending wail
    of a man bereft
    soul-gored
    devastated

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2008
    (revision © 2019)

    The artwork above is by: Hera, of Stockholm, Sweden

    __________________

    And So

    “sweet memories of my youth”

     

    And So

    ~

    and so
    I think of her
    and wonder

    what was the fire
    that burned so bright
    and raged so fierce
    as to consume complete

    our essence
    left embered char
    smoldered ashen

    that in its heat
    and fury
    could not sustain

    back I drift
    to fall upon
    the tenderness of youth

    the satin skin
    the comely gaze
    the velvet touch

    a silken voice
    rising
    to lust and longing

    to impatience

    to immortality

    its soulful siren
    so seductive
    the nectar of all forbidden

    the breathless joy
    of sweet innocence

    when the wonder
    stirs to every mystery
    and the spirit lights
    to every spark

    igniting passion’s pyre

    to leave one spent
    in blissful ruin
    at story’s end

    tender memory
    of the throaty whispers
    of promised pleasures
    sweetly secreted
    in her virgin kiss

    and so
    I think of her

    remembering
    with no regret

    savoring the subtle linger
    harbored in my heart
    of the taste
    of her lips

    long ago
    at seventeen

    ~ ~

    “lips lush as cognac
    open softly to kisses
    urgently linger”

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 2019)

    ________________

    23749CC2-151F-4BDE-BA62-BC76B9234D39

     
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