Falling into a tangle
of vague thoughts
almost-remembering’s
and near answers
slipping my grasp
tumbling jumbled
it careens away
down blind alleys
bouncing off suppositions
dodging conjecture
tripping over tongue tips
until hitting the wall
damnit!
just why
did I
come in here?
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
The pitch black
of ignorance
succumbs
to a single
flame of truth
ignited
by the spark
of learning
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Poetry at: Earthweal
artist of both images: Natalia Drepina
Do 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
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
every fear
mine to trigger
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
I slip my rope
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
your dream’s come true
for I will naught
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
knowing ‘cross your neck
I may slide my blade
as I’m creeping quiet
from behind
to steal your life
as I am so inclined
as terror shivers
up and down
your spine
remember always
you — are — mine
having read this letter
that Gwen had received
just this afternoon
handed to her personally
by a courier
I knew I had to stop
this mad maniac
this beast
had recently kidnapped her
even buried her alive
thankfully
the police and I
rescued her
but then today
came this letter
the demon
had included a key
and a note
think your boyfriend
can find me
alone
I really doubt it
but the truth’s unknown
so just for fun
let’s try and see
here’s the address
where I will be
tell him to come alone
or I will hunt
and kill you both
like the helpless fools
I have always known
you are
at sunset
I am gone Gwen
and I know
you will miss me
embracing this insane challenge
I have found the house
an old mansion by the docks
once owned by a shipping magnate
the key doesn’t work the front door
but going around to the back
I find stairs to a storm cellar
the key opens the door
at the bottom
of the broken stone stairs
the door opens
on a long dark hall
if I am being watched
I must move quickly
through this light
that pools incrementally
in this pungent
segmented hallway
there should be some safety
in the shadows
that linger tight
to the cold walls
I press myself
against the damp irregular surfaces
of the stacked fieldstone
that comprise
this eerie chiseled passage
I pause briefly
between each puddle of light
until I reach the last
I halt
nothing in my sane being
wants this dire mission
but I love my Gwen
and she is being threatened
so this deed falls to me
creeping stealthily forward
like a shade on the dank wall
I move cautiously closer
to what appears to be
a huge steel door
my heart pounding
my diaphram starved for breath
I feel I may pass out
suddenly
a noise
immediately behind
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 the source of the noise
moisture
collecting on the stone ceiling
gathers overhead
into sagging condensation
it then releases
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 careful steps
and I place my hand
on the cold metal handle
of the immense door
I clutch it firmly
fearing if I lose my grip
I will lose my nerve
but slowly
quiet as I can
I begin to turn it
I feel the resistance
of set-in rust
as my mind races
and my blood pressure soars
being overcome by the magnitude
of what might come next
I slow my heartbeat
steady my breathing
steel my resolve
and turn my wrist harder
the handle releases
and the door unseats inwardly
I swing the door open
ever so gradually
and step in
suddenly
I’m blinded by light
assaulted by sound
“Love Is Not Enough”
Nine Inch Nails
at 120 dB
then
silence
across the room
a giant screen
as my eyes recover
I see on the screen
a cellphone video image
it’s a live capture
of the apartment I’d left
just an hour ago
where Gwen and I live
there on the screen
my love
bound to a chair
a coarse rope
knotted around her neck
as a dark figure hovers
just behind her
then
from out of the silence
stupid boy
you’ve taken the bait
you are there
and I am here
and now it’s simply
just too late
the ominous shaded figure
then pulls the rope
more tightly
around my love’s throat
you will never again
look into each others eyes
I’m sharing with my Gwen
a wonderful surprise
then tonight
she dies
as he turns
from the camera
he looks down
directly at his captive
the screen goes black
the room falls dark
then clearly
I hear
foolish girl
you’ve always known
you – are – mine
mine alone!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
It’s nightfall
the darkness now descends
the hand of grief extends
terror is knocking at the door
it’s nightfall
words of horror stain my lips
sweetness slips through my fingertips
and scatters ‘cross the floor
it’s nightfall
the shadows stoke my fears
a voice of dread rings in my ears
I am broken evermore
it’s nightfall
dark waves of misery
are rising like the sea
I am stranded on the shore
it’s nightfall
would I were alone
confusion grips me to the bone
horror chills me to my core
it’s nightfall
again you call my name
I’m about to go insane
I just can’t take it anymore
it’s nightfall
“yes dear! I can hear you”
your nagging drives me crazy
so tired of your calling me lazy
it’s nightfall
“certainly dear! I know your feet are sore
I’ll pick the candy up off the floor
I’m happy to answer the” g’damned “door!”
it’s nightfall
before the sun rises tomorrow
I’ll end my pain and sorrow
going to end that nagging
forevermore!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
~ SHORT VERSION ~
~ NIGHTMARE ON MY STREET ~
~ FULL VERSION ~
Another morning, he sighs, as he sits, sipping his steeped motivation. Quietly, he begins peeling away the fog that layers his mind, residue of another fitful night. He is somber, but pleased to be awake, to be alive, grateful for the peace and the quiet of early morning — fleeting though it is.
His thoughts begin to un-blend, gathering in a cohesive palette of emotions. They catch his notice this morning, as they slowly sort, into what he perceives, as the colors of mood — moods he recognizes all too well.
He sees the dark ebony of anger, the shades of purple that are pain. Here is the violet of regret, and the sorrowful blues. But here too, are gentle peaceful greens, golden joy, and laughter’s bright amber. And, ahh yes, love’s deep ruby red, and the hot scarlet of passion!
As he muses, reflections on his mortality creep in, unwelcomed. They shoulder in coldly, crowding his reverie, reminding him of his advanced age, and acutely failing health. Pondering his plight he curses his fate. He feels himself struggling beneath the weight of uncertainty. A riot of emotions overcome him.
He seeks clarity, so he retreats to his typewriter, his tool of expression, his canvas for poetry. As outside, saffrons and corals stir into dawn, he sits at his desk, brings his fingers to the keys, and begins painting — deep indigo.
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
What’s that you say
you’ve not seen me around
well see
I just got back in town
went for a trip
quite far away
but now
I plan to settle down
I brought back
some new friends
friends I find dear
though some folks
well
they react with fear
my new friends
may appear
a little strange
they’re just not
well
not from around here
I see you smirking
at my suit
it includes the hat
and the gloves to boot
it really helps
should I grow weightless
but around here
I guess
that point is moot
it keeps UV rays
off my bald cranium
and it’s made
of strong-as-steel
titanium
it makes me invisible
to radar
and impervious
to uranium
I wear it now
almost everyplace
the reflection
helps conceal my face
when raining
it keeps me very dry
and there’s a jet pack
if I choose to race
so please
don’t make fun
of my wardrobe
it’s perfect
for someone on the go
it’s fireproof
if you’re grilling out
and in the dark of night
it glows
so
here’s a little tip
I’ll share with you
I don’t worry
about all the ballyhoo
let folks stare
and shake their head
because I know
my fashion sense
is way way ahead
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Life’s so lonely — I am so blue
is there no way we can renew
our lovelife
I feel so hopeless time to time
so pitiful — truth is that I’m
still lovestruck
I did not always treat you right
please forgive me and reignite
your lovelight
our love song has not all been sung
please don’t abandon me among
the lovelorn
all this time we’ve been so happy
let’s find a way again to be
those lovebirds
I want you to see me again
to again be reflected in
your love-eyes
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Wow — it is so hard to believe
that it’s finally time to leave
the spaceport
last night I nearly opted out
lying in bed thinking about
this spaceflight
I am nervous — I’m telling you
I fear at blast off I might poo
my spacesuit
but it’s damned cool that of this crew
I am the one who gets to do
the spacewalk
is this to me a dream come true
yes — if they keep me tethered to
the spacecraft
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
~ MY ORIGINAL POEM ~
My memories gather and squabble
like crows in fallow fields
they pick clean
the bones of my recall
bones against the cruel clay
of an arid barren mind
bones spilled from soul boxes
in which I’d desperately collected
the scarred and damaged pieces
of my broken dreams
dreams now parched and withered
dried brittle in the coarse winds
of my dire confusion
their promises scratched and raspy
slowly slipping unintelligible
into the chaos and cacophony
of the crows in fallow fields
—{:}—
~ MY RESCUE REWRITE ~
My memories gather and squabble
like crows in fallow fields
they pick relentlessly random
at the bones of my recall
bones against the cracked clay
in a foggy mind
bones spilled from soul boxes
where I desperately collect them
drying brittle in the wafting winds
of my careless confusion
their promises scratched and raspy
slowly slipping unintelligible
into the chaos and cacophony
of the crows in fallow fields
but I too am relentless
picking up what remains I’m able
to make these pieces of my dreams
be they large or small
tattered scattered pieces of my dreams
come whole in joyous fashion
‘til I simply am no more
yes, ‘til it all comes crashin’
this will remain my passion
that fractured dreams will find new lives
and new joys will fill weary eyes
kwamba utapata furaha yako
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Now please enjoy these unbelievably incredible women, and these bands…
Here
in this earthen abode
the voices of our elders
rose with the night fire
a blaze
of enlightenment
warmed us
with the knowledge
of the ancestors
but the sacred fire
its embers
now near ashen
who will stir to flame
this smoldering wisdom
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
”The Wiseman” – Jim Warren © 1975
Your clarity
blazed bright
a flame of logic
a vivid light
pierced the darkness
of ignorance
its radiance
sparked inquiry
your blazing light
turning now ember
edge’s ashen
can still ignite
those who remember
your philosopher’s passion
stir to fire
your dark wisdom’s desire
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Here I gaze
one-eye’d blind
through life’s gossamer curtain
at a dark waking dream
a chill hallucination
of a polarized reality
dual worlds
close enough to touch
through which truth
stumbles
blind
beyond reach
walking as a wraith
moving in these worlds
captive to the bonedeep lie
implicit in the toxic grin
of inflexible conformity
lethal tradition
revered
in mindless trance
change
shackled cold
to the stone of fear
change
bound
with a grip
rough as rope
at the shadowed edge
of dark and light
of ignorance and knowledge
change
so far to go
so much to learn
rise from this night
beckon the dawn
someone needs
ignite the light
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
She spent her life
building and feathering her nest
head down
consumed in the process
a woman committed
to the industry
of her task
so capable
so indendent
no time for distraction
wanting nothing
to interrupt
her single-minded endeavor
not needing
nor asking
for help
from anyone
she wanted
no sttings attached
finally one day
she rose up
to look around
to discover
she had achieved
every goal
every accomplishment
was indeed hers alone
but terribly alone
she had no one
she had it all
but at a cost
she was isolated
was entangled
in her cold
calculated
singular
success
she felt
nowhere
empty
lost
and
she
was
sad
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
You’ve got the mask thing
and the social distancing
wrapped in one fell swoop
but nurse — ain’t you worried ‘bout
pokin’ some damned fool’s eye out
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
they carry my longing heart
on their crest
and catch the tears
tears of sadness
I cry at times
moments that I feel
run aground
since you went away
would that I had a boat
a special boat
to ferry me
across this ocean of time
over that horizon of death
ferry me this day
to you
to see your face
just one more time
to hear your beautiful voice
rise in sweet song
but all is not grief
there are also tears
of joyful reflection
when I think of you
our love is that river
that flows eternally
through all time
you live still
in vivid warmest memory
forever
locked in my heart
but one cannot touch
a memory
would that I could hold you
again this day
hold you close
and tell you son
tell you the 10,000 things
I said far too seldom
when you were still here
fiercely alive
in my life
but please
watch the river
my beautiful boy
look for my special boat
I am coming — soon
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: d’Verse
Poetry at: poets & stortellerd