Category: wisdom

Supple Soul

 

…photo below entitled “Strange Fruit”, by Lucas Rocha…

Supple Soul

•

rise up now

clad in colors
of a joyful life

rebuke the strife

tilt against convention

the prevailing norm
is a toxic storm

buck the winds of brute rebuff

stare down the face of ridicule
if buffeted by cruel
condemnation
from the foolish
sadly blown off course

be not inclined to fear
nor falter
choose instead
to tame the dread

to stay ones ground
leaning hard on raw conviction

be anchored bold
and deeply hold
to the genuine
do not resent

remain flexible
to withstand the blows
of frightened those
who would see you swayed
and have you bent

your broken spirit
for so to savor

stand head high
back straight
don’t ever waver

but never rigid
brittle
prone to break

do not forsake
your heart song

wisdom is a supple soul
skewered through
by true enlightenment

pierced clean and strong
by wonder
bleeding hope
and justice

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…poem inspired by read write image #11, seen above, found at “readwritepoem”

 

The Poets – (anatomy of a rewrite)

IMG_8614

This poem, entitled “The Poets”, is a major rewrite inspired, over a decade later, by the original which I wrote in 1997, and which you will find following this piece…

• • • this comparative exercise was inspired by the blog “Totally Optional Prompts”

The Poets

•

damaged in their special ways
they like the path unclear
the route unmarked

fond of stumbling in
fumbling through
finding the way that’s theirs

engaged by the obtuse
the uneven
the asymmetric chord
they see grace and form
in brilliant imbalance

seduced by the clue
drawn to the fog
they seek the wonder
it withholds

where they long to go
is always round the bend
over the hill
behind the door

their ears prick
to the distant sound
that calls
just beyond clarity

to all these things
their souls are pulled

because

down the trail
in the mist
around the curve
over the crest
shut away

the clarion awaits

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

______________________________

Following is the original poem from which the poem above was born. It is essentially a different poem from above, but it was this poem that inspired the writing of the other — a re-write of a reflection on the poet’s essence…

• • • This poem you are about to read was initially inspired by Bill Moyers exceptional PBS TV special and the equally wonderful subsequent book, “The Language Of Life”…

The Poet

•

the poet’s eye is like our eye
yet it sees life’s un-shown
and reflects it for our sight

the poet’s ear is like our ear
but it senses life’s most quiet
to resound so we might hear

the poet’s tongue is like our tongue
yet it speaks what is not spoken
and becomes the voice of truth

the poet’s hand is like our hand
yet when it reaches out
what it touches is our soul

• • •

rob kistner © 1997

Vessel

…sculpture below by the remarkable Rose Bean Simpson… she is a 3D poet…

Vessel

•

there is a needing and a caring
a taking and a giving

pieces of one’s soul
peeled away
for the sake of the cherished

a duality of dark and light
positive and negative

that haunts the reaching out
and clutch of profaned hands
which inflict raw wounds

that also blesses the sacred touch
to sooth the burning bruise
and heal the unseen damage

a rootedness in the need to nurture
in the looking one-eyed blind
to see that which is not visible
to the unfocused seer

madness engulfs the heart
of the flat-light sighted
obscuring truth

the radiance of clarity
envelopes the sainted
illuminating the wondrous

voids of spirit
marked and remembered
are besought in the leaving time

at the crossing over
to the dream
or hard justice

I am here but for you
until all that remains are bones
taken up to strike down menace
that which means you harm

devour me complete
in validation of my path
consummation of my holy fate

I am your vessel of deliverance

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

…poem inspired by read write image #10, seen above, found at “readwritepoem”

Continuum

 

 

Continuum

•

emerald eyes stare

fix me in their grasp

lift me into the realm
of unfinished dreams

strip me of fear
longing
of inhibition

render me transparent
as I rise weightless
unburdened of care

an untethered being of pure moment
filled with universes within universes

a vessel of time and space
ever-expanding consciousness
aware of all

not as separate
but as the is – the was – the to become

with infinite reach
embracing the strand continuum

drawing it forward
reeling it back
in uninterrupted linearity

for no reason
but the being of its universal presence
its omnipotent here-ness
the infinite now

seeing through the emerald eyes
with crystalline gaze
I behold the beginning of the endless
touch what is not known
glimpse what cannot be now
but is forever

an epiphanal glance
at the mystery of fate
the why within the why

ever I ascend to realization
that the meaning of the mystery
is veiled in those emerald eyes

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

___________________________________

…photorendering at top entitled “Emerald Eyes” by: rob kistner © 2008

___________________________________

A BRAND NEW WORD: •Epiphanality – 1. The quality of transcendence and enlightenment that exists in something 2. the ability to transcend and rise above

 

…wonderful poems found at “readwritepoem”

 

Faster Faster

 

 

Faster Faster

•

lay down your weight
put down your worry
slow down your pace
cease with your hurry

soon you will get there
life rushes by
you wonder when
so harder you try

to fill up what’s empty
as faster you fly
wondering when…
who’s wondering why

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…art piece entitled “Faster Faster” by: rob kistner © 2009

 

As Art Is

 

 

As Art Is

•

art is the source
and destination

art is the consumer
and the consumed

art is the query
and the response

art is the coming
and the going

art is the beginning
and the end

art is the light
and the enlightened

art is the sorrow
and the joy

art is the fact
and the fiction

art is the pain
and the pleasure

art is the madness
and the reason

as
art is
art is
as well

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

___________________________________

…art piece entitled “Shaman’s Dream” by: rob kistner © 1998

 

Being

 

Being

•

every second
of every minute
of every hour
of every day
of every week
of every month
of every year
of every decade
of every human life
to have ever been
now is being
or will be
lived

this
is the vast
ever-expanding
human experience

how wondrous
is our brief
moment

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

…find links to some fine writing at “readwritepoem”

 

This Journey

 

 

This Journey

•

this pilgrim’s lot
is cast to wander
in search of what
is not clear known

step by step
day after day
uncertain fate unfolds
this journey

filled with wonder
joy
and awe

fraught with sadness
pain
and tears

it’s carried me
‘cross boundaries
borders
mass of lands
‘cross time and space

it’s shown me mysteries
marvels
magic

good & evil

the best
the least

it’s brought me pleasures
fame and fortune
to claim them back
with no remorse

I’ve known satisfaction
adulation
a woman’s love
a child’s passing

it’s been true and faithful
genuine
to turn away
and break my heart

it’s been fact
fiction
and contradiction
fantasy
and harshly real

I’ve been ignored
I’ve been betrayed

honored
as a man of standing

then left behind
to cry alone

I’ve traveled light
traveled fast
stumbled burdened
weighed with grief

I’ve lead and followed
lost my way
regained direction
to lose belief

I’ve walked hand in hand
with fear
and death

stared down depression
to be consumed

then arose again
to venture forth
without a clue my destination

with no regard the fated outcome
nor consideration of my plight

long ago I abandoned worry
having learned it’s of no use

I’ve realized
despite our difference
at the core
we’re all the same

this realm we entered all alone
and here we’ll leave alone again

but all of this is of no matter
foolish so to dwell upon

of no concern
of no regard
most certainly not worth the measure

in reflection
one sees far too late

it is this journey
that is the treasure

• • •

rob kistner © 2009

 

Late

Late

•

I’m awake late Christmas Eve
wrestling with what I believe
regarding the truth of Santa Clause
my parent’s proof is full of flaws

• • •

Ignorance falls like dark late night
a pitch so black there is no light
knowledge burning bright as flame
drives darkness back to where it came

• • •

I was born by dark of moon
a stormy night in late late June
it’s rained on every birthday after
my parties are devoid of laughter

• • •

O h this is bad, it’s our first date
and here I am two hours late
I have no quality excuse
maybe battery cables rattled loose
windshield shattered by a flying goose
the road was blocked by a stubborn moose
no… I’m turning back, ‘cause what’s the use

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

 

Tears of the Ancients

 

 

Tears of the Ancients

•

the bones
of nature’s rivers
borne away
on strands
stained
with the ghosts
of salmon

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

_____________________

photo above entitled: “Drawing Lines in the Sky” — by: Martin Kingsley

• • •

…inspired by the hydro-electric dams choking the mighty Pacific Northwest rivers
and by read write image #3, found at “readwritepoem”.

 

Dawn

 

Dawn

•

I gaze
through gossamer curtain’s fall
at a mirrored reflection
in a waking dream

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 bonewhite lie
implicit in the toxic grin
of inflexible conformity

lethal tradition
revered in mindless trance

change

shackled to the stone of fear
a grip rough as rope

change

bound
at the shadowed edge
of dark and light
ignorance and knowledge

change

beckon the dawn
summon the morn

there is far to go
and much to learn
rising from this night

someone needs release the light

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

 

Make it happen…

 

Hope

•

with hope
we have direction
the energy to move
a map to follow
a hundred alternatives
a thousand paths
an infinity of dreams

with hope
we are half way there

without hope
we are lost forever

• • •

The Strike



The Strike

•

warm
familiar
comfortable in my palm
my fingers wrap natural cork
index raised
gauging line tension

precision brings the willow’d shaft
high above my shoulder
flexing expectantly

a flick of my wrist
and the rod arcs forward
increasing the pressure
on my fingertip
as it bends ahead
urgently
seeking release

then
a careful pluck
like a string
on a guitar

it is launched

the ultralight lure
golden at line’s end
sails silent
into the squinting summer sun

with a subtle plick
the barbless hunter disappears
slipping ‘neath the sparkle
of the undulating steam

seductively
I retrieve the bait
with quickening pulse
eagerly visualizing
anticipating the strike

patience draws the offering
alluringly
dancing ever nearer

I long for the sharp
powerful tug

for the slender thread
unreeled before me
to rise
and dart away
in a sliver of silver spray

for my heart to jump
as a proud trout
breaks water
victim to my seduction

in this moment
mind focused
breath steady
senses heightened
awaiting sudden contact

I reflect

there is a simple truth in fishing
as in life

the thrill of possibility
can be as rich
as the reward

• • •

rob kistner © 2008

• photorendering entitled “The Strike” by: rob kistner © 2008