Lindsey Stirling — violinist & modern dancer
Enchanted — I’m drawn to linger
to watch your magic fingers
dancing your taut strings
they resonate my soul
your bow glides
your eyes close
your hips roll
you float sensually ‘cross the floor
on wings, my passion soars
my hungry spirit longs for more
*
ridley lawrence tieke a/k/a rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Creative writing at: Poets & Storytellers
Raise the carafe with care
pour forth freely
to drink deeply
this wine of friendship
aged to a vintage true
may it linger long
to sweeten your dreams
lighten your burden
warm your heart
and lift your spirit
may serenity be always yours…
salut!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Born of chaos
lacking heritage
void of order
year upon year
a freefall of frustration
searching for foothold
moment man
longing for clarity
for a sense of belonging
stopping is no option
to lose the way
is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one atrophies
grows rigid
with the rigor mortis
of apathy
stiff
with unbending ignorance
faltering in fear
paralyzed
gawking inward
at hopelessness
at failure
the giving in
the giving up
the rot
that sets in
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go
of dreams
of possibility
arthritic loss of faith
debilitates the soul
cripples
the manifest light
that shines forth
at the leap
into darkness
into uncertainty
into the sacred unknown
frozen is the cautious man
withered in a worried cage
not unlike the moment man
terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way
unmarked
and thus
bleeds out
the color of life
of living
to become cold
and grey
a putrefied husk
of brittled remorse
mired in regret
for never having
shone so brightly
as to blind
the eyes of death
stopping is no option
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Standing at the morning window
I watch the boulevard below
last night’s rain puddles
midst the chaos of metro-clutter
held hostage
by tire and curb
as if abandoned
by the waters of earth
it shoulders its way
through the labyrinth
of clutter and gutter
in search of mother sea
this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets
I sit by this sun-filled window
with chai tea and curiosity
quietly serenaded
by the flocking feathered choir
and by the mourning news
prattling on the big screen
my ipad next to me
I peck at it periodically
attempting to write
I glimpse the tv sporadically
growing troubled by the broadcast
our continuing human plight
we can’t seem to get it right
amazing how we just never learn
when the answers seem so clear
but our egos are so dear
that neither side can hear
what the other side is saying
so everyone keeps playing
these apocalyptic games
keep it up — the world will burn
why do we
blindly and so stubbornly
choose to initiate and navigate
this labyrinth of insanity
repeating these same antics endlessly
nothing will be changed
just the same picture rearranged
as round’n’round we stumble
“we’re seeking peace”
said in a mumble
feigning wanting to get out
when in fact we just stay in
then right back around again
my patience is growing thin
round’n’round’n’round we go
caught in our ignorance
trapped by our arrogance
gambling with our existence
addicted to the maze
we never leave
this labyrinth of greed and deception
in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
reality grips
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup
no longer looking up
I just stare
distracted
the news anchor looks absurd
the lips continue sculpting words
but not a single one I’ve heard
deaf to what’s being said
I’m deep into my thoughts instead
imagining how different it would be
if love and logic ruled this labyrinthic world
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal
“Folding Time” by: rob kistner
As turns a minute to an hour
and an hour to a lifetime
lived mindfull and well invested
as turns the blossom to the pulp
that hangs sweetly in the orchard
ready to be tasted
as turns a breath into a tone
that turns that tone into a song
upon the singer’s lips
as turns a step into a mile
and a mile into a journey
back to a cherished one
as turns a reach into a hug
that wraps gently around the shoulders
of someone lost in grief
as turns a grin into a smile
and a smile to healing laughter
on the face of someone lonely
as turns a thought to imagination
and imagination into a vision
in a child’s fertile mind
as turns a seedling to a sapling
and that sapling to a tree
giving breath of life to this earth
as turns awareness to intention
and intention into an action
that makes a difference in this world
so too time has turned my heart
into a cresting wave
that breaks upon and sweeps the world
deep into the ocean of my love
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
~ I offer this song in peace & awareness of the eternal energy that is existence ~
“I would rather have a mind opened by wonder
than one closed by belief.”
— Gerry Spence
Like a flash of startling color
in a mystical midnight dream
butterflies just materialize
from out of nowhere it would seem
like fragile fleeting fairies
from a mysterious magical source
they flit and flutter dazzlingly
such a breathtaking tour de force
so frail and so diaphanous
such bold and brilliant wings
silently they float on air
enchantingly beautiful things
they dart with such abandon
they dance more than they fly
so weightless — so very joyous
a wondrous ballet in the sky
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
“It is not enough that we do our best;
sometimes we must do what is required.”
— Winston Churchill
The human race is in the grip of deadly global pandemic that continues to evolve. The coming seasonal change impacts human life, as we are driven indoors. This increased encapsulation of daily life, increases the threat posed by this insidious COVID 19 Delta variant. We have worked hard to develop and distribute the COVID vaccine. It is the responsibility of every human to step up and be vaccinated — it’s free! This is how we will defeat this scourge. It is our duty to protect our fellow humans.
I’m vaccinated. Too many foolishly refuse to do their part to join in the fight. The vaccine is safe, and it works. So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm. They are in far more harm, not being vaccinated. We all must ”vax up”! Be part of the solution, not an extension of the problem!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
What your dark mind must conceal
from the spirit
of joy and forgiveness
from that which is pure
tested by time
and the wanting hands
of the sacred crone
the waiting one
who cowers
yet smiles
woman aged of wisdom
warrior soul
spirit eternally reborn
transformed
singing truth
through the hail and barrage
‘cross the bow mast
of freedom
seeking broad measure and berth
as all that you seem to desire
slips slowly away
like rain down a spout
as your nightmares plumb deep
the sphere of black dreams
this timeless crone
could be your miracle
your salvation — your way out
your frail breath
to carry you through your passing
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
My theatre’s now just empty red seats
the street out front — an empty avenue
no one comes view these cinematic feats
nor the celluloid fantasies I knew
the projector’s a beaut, still shine’n bright
casting cine-magic on the big screen
but the joint’s abandoned night after night
my theater’s now COVID’s haunted scene
sadly a victim of something obscene
we try to grasp why this horrible plague
how could we humans unleash such a scourge
when ask where it came from answers seem vague
as earth chants a bitter funeral dirge
arrogance serves to block true solution
as impatience helps continue the spread
is this the time we pay retribution
is this the end time as many have said
we must reflect as we bury our dead
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Do check out: mindlovemisery’s menageries
Sweet young lust
craving
yet hesitant
innocent bliss
throbbing in the groove
of scorching rock’n’roll
smoldering for some
longing for more
confusion for most
under a starry sky
humid as our urgent embraces
hot as our stolen kisses
in that distant
sizzling
teenage midnight…
*
Lawrence Tieke aka rtkistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
~ it’s all so very very groovy — baby ~
…like a true nature’s child, I was born to be wild…
Left late
on a moonless night
my caddy shine’n bright
a wad’a dolla’s in my hand
visions of the promised land
enticing me ever onward
encountered some unexpected delays
unforeseen bumps in fortune’s highway
but obstacles weren’t turning me away
certainly had my fair share of scrapes
gotten real good at narrow escapes
had the all too frequent bad day
rubbed folks the wrong way
more than a time or two
scuffed my caddy too
lost me a little skin
paint n’patience worn thin
we took some pretty serious hits
saw well laid plans get blown to bits
and though tough times came in bunches
I learned to keep roll’n with the punches
kept the faith to follow my best hunches
my dream
and my caddy
have lost a little lustre
don’t you fret I don’t fluster
because I am on my way
along this highway
to my paradise
and I ain’t stoppin’
all signs still point to the promised land
and though fate’s dealt me a bad hand
and knocked me down a time or two
what I am tellin’ you here is true
though I may be black n’blue
I ain’t beaten
ain’t retreatin’
I have left my signature written on the winds
marked in hues and shades of my past sins
each a reminder of the person I have been
and a clear vision of what’ll soon begin
with a promise to never go back again
I’m goin’ where the lights are bright
and miracles happen every night
good luck is in the cards for me
I’ll soon be on a winning spree
figure bad luck is behind me
not completely certain though
‘cause my poor caddy’s
big back window
is fuuuck’d up!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Creative writing at: Poets & Storytellers
Poetry at: dVerse
Curtains hang limp
in the front room windows
through which no breeze
has wafted for days
only hot dead air
hangs like a lazy haze
through which seeps
the crisp sound
of sticky tires
crackling like slow-torn velcro
as cars roll sluggish
down our street
tugging at the molten tar patches
of the sizzled surface
in this freakish September bake
the gerbera daisies droop
panting in their porcelain pineapple pots
toasting on the withered wooden stoop
paint cracked and dry
scorched from neglect
even the silk plant
on the kitchen sill
seems to wilt
as perfectly
we burn a threshold
life in slow motion
as two-digit slowly rolls
into triple-digit heat
the glowing zeroes stare red
from the temperature display
like a pair of burning eyes
vacant as my baked brain
sledged with humid thoughts
I bring cool water
to moisten my sun cracked
parched lips
they do not smile
in this climate aberration
as slowly I simmer
deep in dying summer
seeking autumn’s mercy
*
Lawrence Tieke aka rtkistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Adults argue about the shot
whether they should or should not
we arrogant adults apparently forgot
it’s our children we put on a deadly spot
children back to school sure sounds great
but first — roll up their sleeves and vaccinate
then we dense adults can disagree argue and debate
but protect the innocent before it’s just too damned late
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Crowding children back into classrooms this coming autumn and winter, as the elusive DELTA VARIANT is driving another major spike in the current raging pandemic, a spike that is even more contagious and lethal than the original outbreak — is blatantly absurd and socially irresponsible. Our youngest are not vaccinated, and we truly do not know just how easily they may become contagious carriers, or they themselves suffer some longterm personal health issues — or worse. I am so torn knowing my grandson Alex, who comes down to visit me everyday, will be heading off to 2nd grade unprotected, on Wednesday. Love that little man so!
Adult humans do, at our best, continue to demonstrate arrogance, impatience, careless irresponsibility, and blatant ignorance in the face of this deadly scourge. Even the easiest, most basic gesture of consideration for others, wearing a mask, foolishly ignored — turning an act of public safety for the community, into some selfish statement of defiance. Humans are turning common sense into a deadly political confrontation, masqueraded as “human rights”?!
And now we are putting the health and safety of our children, as well that of our society as a whole, in mortal danger, by making them pawns in this “rush back to imagined normalcy”. Why? Because we find the necessary continued actions to effectively protect the human right to life — inconvenient, bothersome or confining. Attached to a respirator in a hospital bed, is more confining. A coffin in a grave is far more confining — permanently!
Listen, we have no idea what the “COVID surge-affect” of these massive moves away from safety, already undertaken, will ultimately cause. We do see emergency rooms being strained to breaking again. We see disease and death rates dramatically spiking again, and we see human adults acting like spoiled children, refusing to get vaccinated. Or simpler yet, to mask up! Now we are going to play Russian roulette with our children!
I hope I am just overreacting, but the evidence of the past 18 months tells me there is cause for genuine concern. Time to batten down again until we actually wipe out, or effectively contain COVID, and it’s ongoing mutations — at least to the degree we have with the flu. We still do not understand this COVID in the same way we do the flu. This is not the time to up the stakes in this gamble with the health and the lives of the human race, by rolling our innocent children out like dice!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
What I said was
don’t touch
go away
leave me be
while inside
I cried out
draw near
stay with me
you are light
you are pure
you are joy
you are free
I am not
I am dark
I am beast
but now I see
like day
needs the night
like shore
defines the sea
like light
needs darkness
there’s only cold
if there’s heat
requires two
different notes
blended for
pure harmony
we can never
be divided
that is a
fool’s fallacy
like the yin
and the yang
of a wise
philosophy
we exist
only together
I’m in you
you’re in me
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Creative writing at: Poets & Storytellers
Poetry at: dVerse
This has nothing to do with the poem, but if you want to spend an incredible 90 minutes with Joni — I cordially invite you to do so.