Image & Verse

fortunately — right place right time
in the hospital following surgery
fate’s given me another chance
guess I had better get it right

I’ve borrowed bought and sold
lived in lotsa’ shades of grey
I damn near leveraged my soul
just to play this fleeting game

I have not always been so kind
played a little fast and loose
spent so much time chasing fortune
too much time pursuing fame

I pray I’ll not end up an old man
gazing lonely out my window
trying hard just to remember
exactly how long it has rained

not sitting silent by the fire
deeply mired in consternation
wondering if all that I have lost
was worth what it was I gained

what I gained is more than gold
probably more than I deserve
I have been given a precious gift
the love of a daughter and two sons

the miracle of a gorgeous grandson
the warmth of a loving family
I have so many lives to cherish
my heart beats strong for every one

 
*
rob kistner © 2021

~< My deepest gratitude to the Code Blue team at Evergreen! >~

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

“Unmask” by: Maxence

…are we really happy here with this lonely game we play
looking for words to say… Leon Russell

O utside
the evening breeze
freshens

copper windchimes
hanging from the eaves
ring from time to time

inside
we sit with dinner
and complacency

there is little resonance

meal finished
we clear the table
unspeaking

task done
we part quietly

me
to my desk
to write

you
to your chair
to read

outside
sunset
softly shades
the side deck

tubular bells
quietly chime
in gathering twilight

inside
soft shadows
blanket subtle activity

outside
a wakening wind
greets day’s end

chimes
vigorously keep pace

inside
turbulent indifference
veils your face

as I write
I wonder

are we happy
are you happy
16 years my junior

if we are
why is it
we do not say

do we mask with silence
to hide

to hide the vulnerable face
of love

or to hide the emptiness
the lonliness

how dangerously foolish
this emotional masquerade

should I speak
rouse you
from your pulp and plot

should I
lift my mask

should we both
before our love
slips silently away

but what to say
what can mute hearts
share

what is there
to say

perhaps
it’s all been said
so I go to bed

I hear the car door
as you drive
into the night

outside
tuned copper
chimes in darkness

inside
silence
rings aloud

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

————————-<~ § ~>-———————-

Sting, with Portland OR’s Chriss Botti on trumpet

Night-wandering
these Oregon mountains
intoxicates my spirit

nature’s beauty
stretching beyond eye’s reach

moonlight drifts down
dreamlike
setting aglow
the forest’s canopy
silver’d beams streaming through

a sky of stars
dance diamond-like
on mirroring lakes

serene and sacred
this magical realm

my soul swoons

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

T here is great peace
night-wandering
these slumbering mountains

spellbinding
these vast forests
asleep with moon dreams

gently coaxed
by midnight breezes
sterling ripples glint
atop moonlit
crystal clear
glacial cut lakes

their chill
cerulean depths
hold me enchanted

ancient secrets
whispered by these waters
echo hauntingly
in the old growth treetops
stirring to flight
a great white owl

these pristine mountains
take my breath
unspoiled natural beauty
stretching beyond eye’s reach

night zephyrs
wafting high
through conifer boughs
release a heady intoxicant

moonlight drifts down
dreamlike
setting aglow
the forest’s canopy
pierced by silver’d beams

a sky of stars
dance diamond-like
on the mirroring lakes

unleashing the serene
and the sacred
of this place — so unique

but this night
there also stirs the sorrow
of careless human arrogance

these night breezes
are unbreathable
whipped by rolling flames
to blistering winds
choked with soot

the rivers black
strangled with char
as wild fires rage
and wildlife screams
scattering in panic

terrified

as life is consumed
all life

will there ever be
cries enough
to be heard

midst smoldering debris
a horrifying discovery

the burnt head
of a child’s doll
the child lost
in the blackened devastion

like a cruel omen
a tear trickles down
the smoke stained doll’s cheek

my heart breaks
deeply I weep

will there ever
be tears enough
to again cleanse pure
this defiled paradise

 
*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Read — “The City” HERE

-——-< * >———

Read — “Rocketman” HERE

THANK YOU ~ ENJOY!

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

until — let’s take a leisure drive
stick our heads out the windows
look at those beautiful butterflies
do they know which way the wind blows

we are rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
not certain where we’re goin’

I lost my pearly guitar pic
it’s been missin’ now for hours
I found my favorite baseball mitt
in a field full of wild flowers

acres of virgin rain forest
more than 200,000 everyday
what d’fuck is it we’re thinkin’
cutting those vital trees away

we keep rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
no idea where we’re goin’

let’s put on a sunny face
let’s not appear that we are dour
Thalia — help us laugh off our guilt
while we boogie down in the shower

630,000 machine guns
are privately owned in the USA
that is a lotta gaw-damned firepower
on the loose here everyday

ya’bet’cha — ya’bet’cha
oh hell yes — ya’bet’cha

maybe just to clear my head
I’ll go ’n climb that water tower
wow — I can see a lot from here
like those school kids by the flowers

229 school shootings
337 victims have sadly died
when you send your children off to schoolg
no guarantee they’ll come back alive

the horror’s rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
the solution is not known

hey — where’s that sunny funny face
maybe if we all join in a song
perhaps sing a song of make-believe
Euterpe — please play as we sing along

our planet’s becoming a garbage dump
ton n’a half of trash tossed away
by every man woman and child
each year in the US of A

ya’bet’cha — ya’bet’cha
oh hell yes — ya’bet’cha

oh sure — the world has begun to flood
the part that’s not — is burning
but hell — there ain’t no climate change
just ignore all that we’re learning

let’s just pretend that all is well
these g’damned masks are irritating
these stupid lockdowns are real hell
but global plague just keeps mutating

Melpoméne please — this is hard to take
like everybody’s gone insane
sometimes I’d like to fly away
just escape all of this pain

oh shit — my hair is all messed up
guess it’s time to go back home
but time has proven to be relative
many friends and relatives are gone

close that open window please
my apathy’s blowin’ away
when interplanetary trips begin
Urania — launch me on that day

soon I will be flown flown flown
into outer space I’m goin’
Mars is my new home
g’bye — so long

OLÉ!

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

we are rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
not certain where we’re goin’

I lost my pearly guitar pic
it’s been missin’ now for hours
I found my favorite baseball mitt
in a field full of wild flowers

acres of virgin rain forest
more than 200,000 everyday
what d’fuck is it we’re thinkin’
cutting those vital trees away

we keep rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
no idea where we’re goin’

let’s put on a sunny face
let’s not appear we’re dour
we’ll wash away the smudge of guilt
while we boogie down in my shower

630,000 machine guns
are privately owned in the USA
that is a lotta gaw-damned firepower
on the loose here everyday

ya’bet’cha — ya’bet’cha
oh hell yes — ya’bet’cha

maybe just to clear my head
I’ll go ’n climb that water tower
wow — I can see a lot from here
like those school kids by the flowers

229 school shootings
337 victims have sadly died
when you send your children off to school
no guarantee they’ll come back alive

the horror’s rollin’ rollin’ rollin’
the solution is not known

hey — where’s that sunny funny face
maybe if we all join in a song
perhaps sing a song of freedom
get the world to sing along

ya’bet’cha — ya’bet’cha
oh hell yes — ya’bet’cha

oh sure — the world’s begun to flood
the part that’s not — is burning
the world’s plague continues mutating
but hey — at least the earth keeps turning

it’s getting very hard to deal with
like everybody has gone insane
sometimes I’d like to fly away
just leave behind this pain

oh shit — I really messed my hair
guess it’s time to go back home
time it seems is relative
my friends and relatives are gone

wind up that open window please
my apathy’s blowin’ away
when interplanetary trips begin
I’m off to mars that very day

soon I will be flown flown flown
into outer space I’m goin’
g’bye — so long

OLÉ!

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

this city
that vibrates
with the hum of networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
often the we can
beyond the reach
of should we

this city
teeming
with college’d clones
like-patterned minds
that surge with ambition
that submit to the agendas
good or bad
dreaming of early retirement
fearing an early death

this city
bedecked in stainless
and stone
poured
erected
glassen’d

this city
ablaze in halogen
aglow in neon
awash in tears
of the poor

this city
its haughty monoliths
of varying shape
differing size
flanked in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
blink and beep
that ring buzz belch hiss
— and stink

this city
that intimidates
in cold and calculated majesty

this city that amazes
this city that abuses

this city is in my blood

but it does not
hold my soul

no
it does not offer solace
to my human core

that seeks the folded petal’s mystery
that marvels at the smallness
of a changing frond

at the tart-sweet scent’d
gnarled bark
of mighty conifer monoliths
thrusting ever skyward

or the magic
of a budding branch

this city
does not touch my spirit
soothed by wind and water
thrilled by song of birds
or the swoop of hawks

this city
does not spark my wonder
stirred by the yelp
or bark
or bleat
of beasts

this city
cannot reach my soul
that needs to see a salmon’s trek
the open sky
the roll of unobstructed clouds
see the fall of stars

this city
has nothing for my soul
that needs to hear the crack of thunder
resound for miles across the plane
then off the mountain’s face

that needs the fresh embrace of rain
the crisp and quiet drift of snow
the hues and sway of living fields

this city
leaves my spirit cold
that needs to watch the orchard
blossom and bloom to fruit
see forests
thick beyond horizons
or feel the lift of cresting surf

no
this city
does not satisfy my need
to know the evolving natural wonders
that inspire
that swell my soul
that resonate my heart

this city is in my blood
but it does not hold my soul

and so I look beyond
for my tomorrow

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

how many lilies
has it nourished
how many daisies
lilacs
roses
how many morning glories

it dispenses
its life giving waters
so gracefully in her hand

a delicate hand
gentle in its loving touch

gentle in its task
of planting
gentle in its tend

but rugged on any weeds
threatening her garden

she
the giver of life
the guardian
of her realm

but she could not stop
all that threatened
and I had not
her gift of giving life
oh would I had

so there
just where she left it
on the garden bench

still

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

I roll with a finger-snap
juke-jive strut
don’t mess with me
if ya’ know what’s what

I’m smoooooth
as a dry martini
name is Liz
but call me Queenie

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

*

rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

when in our reflection
we see perverse transcendence
towards entitlement
in which no allegiance
or kinship to nature
binds us to our center

when our insanity
of magnified human arrogance
so distorts our vision
of the sacred ancient balance

so twists our vision
of our place in
or our inherent responsibility
to protect
the bone-broken reality
of the natural order

when we blatantly begin
to eat our own
while copulating
with false gods
on forsaken gilded altars
of rampant greed
of earthly neglect
of gluttoness abuse
of planetary resources

of utter disregard
for the sanctity of life
all life

then the hour of extinction
is certainly at hand

and we’ve all become
the hulking mass
of the apocalypse
deserving to be struck down
by the self-inflicted rapier
of raw wild justice

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers