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

 


https://youtu.be/oz3JlMhgfq0

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
  • Time’s Window

    “This is the 4th anniversary of my wife Kathleen and I moving to Seattle to be with our grandson Alex. I posted this new piece containing mindful reflections on leaving our home in Oregon, and our new Seattle home. The photos are of our Oregon yard in the Cascade Mountain foothills. That is my wife Kathy standing under, and peering up into our 2 giant banana palms. The poem is just below the photos.“

    96A0D5B9-69EF-49DB-BE33-C1347DFE7938

    E280E402-14C8-4DF8-BE06-05995B79BDD1

    8406EEC5-F134-4D0F-AF92-19D3B1F79A86

     

    Time’s Window
    ~


    we now have a wonderful
    new Seattle home
    shared with family
    ruled by my little guy
    my precious 6-year-old grandson
    and I know sweet happiness

    but there are moments
    with eyes closed
    I can gaze back
    through time’s window

    I see my beloved Oregon home
    of 25 amazing years
    vividly alive this morning
    here in my memories…

    through my window this day
    I see the scurry of creatures
    warmed by the Oregon summer

    I hear nature
    in splendid voice

    the chuff
    of a tree’d red squirrel

    the song
    chirp
    and trill of birds

    chickadee
    goldfinch
    western bluebird
    and others

    fly
    flutter
    and flit

    in a flash of orange
    a striking northern flicker
    momentarily eschewing insects
    is peck peck pecking
    cracking black-oil sunflower seeds
    that spill from our feeder

    a red-tailed hawk
    calls
    from atop a Sitka spruce
    swaying
    in the crisp blue sky

    the muffled belling of a deer
    wandering the safety of old-growth
    whispers
    through the foothills

    the distant bark
    of a neighbor’s dog
    echoing the basin
    up along our stream
    reminds me
    we have friends nearby

    my wife’s
    gentle laughter
    validates the friendship

    her tender smile
    validates our love

    the rustle of leaves
    stirred by the breeze
    wafting through the valley

    smartly punctuated
    by the staccato
    of conifer cones
    that fall
    from time to time
    wrested free by chickaree
    and chipmunk
    chattering high in Douglas fir
    busy with their forage

    wap wap wap

    they bounce off our roof
    striking the ground

    closely followed
    by the scamper
    of their liberators
    crunching their way
    to the heart-meat of the cone
    the delicacy
    that elicits this furious industry

    drifting in the window
    intoxicating fragrances

    cedar
    pine
    fir

    lily
    rose
    lilac

    grasses
    loam
    and more

    a rich
    earthy bouquet

    caught in my reverie
    I breathe in
    deeply
    to suddenly remember

    …I’m not in my Oregon home
    I am in my new Seattle home
    and it’s filled to overflowing
    with family
    and love

    for a moment
    I do not open my eyes
    I linger a bit longer
    in my beautiful dream
    of my Oregon

    my heart will forever be there
    but we will likely never go back
    not until my ashes are spread
    high in the Cascade Mountains
    on Mt. Hood
    across breathtaking Lost Lake

    but here
    now
    on this day
    filled with memories
    and joy
    a solitary tear
    falls

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019


     
    This new write was a remarkably mind purifying write for me. Click to see how others are purifying their minds on dVerse:

    Poetics- Purifying the Mind

     

  • Click to check out the haps at Toads
  • Daredevil’s Dread

     

    Daredevil’s Dread

    ~

    to be shot from a cannon
    into the cool night air
    is really no big deal

    to face a barrage
    of flying knives
    isn’t really that unreal

    to leap through the fire
    of a flaming hoop
    the warmth is kind’a nice

    jumping giant chasms
    on two-wheeled fury
    sure – let’s do it twice

    to be blown up
    in a speeding car
    sort’a turns me on

    falling 20-story
    from a skyscraper
    I’m up over and gone

    riding upside down
    on an airplane wing
    it’s the only way to fly

    the high trapeze
    without a net
    I wouldn’t bat an eye

    buried alive
    in a padlocked tomb
    count 10 and I’ll cheat death

    chained in steel
    tossed in the sea
    no need to hold my breath



    the sphere of fear
    the dome of doom
    the bungee-cord freefall

    to walk blazing coals
    swallow deadly swords
    no sweat — I’ve done them all

    almost nothing scares
    this bold daredevil
    I am very proud to say

    save the single thing
    of which I’m terrified

    to give my heart away



    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revised © 2018)

    ____________________________________

  • top 2 photos: Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus
  • bottom photo: source unknown
  • Wonder

     

    Wonder

    •

    to grow up
    is to chase off
    our innocence
    our naïve belief
    in the world as a beautiful place
    to harden against the magic
    of our childhood dreams

    but if by chance
    we can cling to just one
    perhaps we can hold on
    to our precious sense of wonder

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • photo: “Alice in Wonderland” by Yuki Valentine

    Slithered


    The Snake Charmer, Henri Rousseau, 1907

     

    Slithered

    •

    ever hissing ever hissing
    the smooth slithered snake
    stealthily winds its slender self
    to slowly settle in the shadows

    to set its searching sights
    on its unsuspecting prey
    an ever patient sentry
    coiled to seize its precious prize

    with surety of purpose
    this silent sleek assassin
    will strike swift and certain
    never missing never missing

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Boldy Go

     

    Boldly Go

    •

    the great wheel of time
    turns ever slow and steadily
    its ponderous mass unstoppable
    it presses onward mightily

    climbs the mortal mountain
    bearing the weight of history
    of ages and civilizations
    borne then razed by its immensity

    our lifetimes ride this wheel
    how far is but a mystery
    locked in fate ’round we go
    rolling bold toward hidden destiny

    frail temporal beings
    of a most amazing bravery
    we dream of a tomorrow
    for which there is no guarantee

    adrift toward a future
    of veiled and vague contingency
    still — we dare to love
    despite this vast uncertainty

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • this poem linked at Writer’s Island and One Single Impression

    Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

    “One of my former band members, who was with me in the band in the 1960’s, that inspired this poem from 2011, came to visit me a couple months ago. I had written a haibun at the time in his honor, which I shared here on dVerse. That haibun was inspired by this original poem. I just learned that he died Monday in Geneva, Switzerland. In his memory I am sharing this original poem today, August 22, 2019.”

    …originally written for Day #19, NaPoWriMo 2011…



     
    Sneakin’ Up On Breakfast

    ~

    our final set was 3:00 am
    the gear’s broke down and stowed
    now here we sit
    with smuggled single malt
    and the crusty sunrise special

    me and my bles-sed band
    bliss’d out from giggin’
    bleary-eyed and blasted
    mixin’ with fellow players
    who’ve now
    laid down their last licks
    for this night

    among willing groupies
    the loud hangers on
    and my sad friend Joey
    just back from Viet Nam

    we’re sittin’ and chattin’
    with the steel-heart working girls
    and sweet soul-bruised painted strippers
    they love us ‘cause we’re brothers
    in this family of the night

    all in the flesh parade
    of burnt drink slingers
    and tired cocktail mules

    hipsters grifters drifters
    and slick gamblers
    from behind the sealed doors
    of those private upstairs rooms

    swell perfumed boys
    and sisters of the leather
    queens and trannies
    pimps pushers and the cops

    huddled stark as morgue mates
    hidin’ from those cruel first rays
    like a pack of squandered vampires

    ready to scurry off
    to well-curtained rooms
    or other dark holes of despair

    it’s time to make that final score
    whatever gets you through
    ‘till sundown strikes up the band again

    I’ll tell ya
    ain’t this show biz grand
    it’s cirque du morning madness
    all sneakin’ up on breakfast

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 4/19/11

    ____________________________

    This photo below put me in mind of the 60’s when my band played the all-night R&B clubs in Newport Ky — the ‘wild’ night-world just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati. It sparked this poem.

    …originally linked at Magpie Tales

     

  • Click below to read other poems at dVerse:

    Open Link Night #249

  • Burst

    …written for Day #13, NaPoMo 2011…


     

    Burst

    •

    sky pulls with spring rain
    sprouting seeds push seeking light
    sun stirs petal’s blush

    engorged buds burst to unfurl
    nature reaches tipping point

    • • •

    rob kistner © 4/13/11

    Skye Fyre

    …written for Day #12, NaPoMo 2011…

     

    Skye Fyre

    ~

    the grand sunset gun
    hunter readies his grip
    as the great golden orb
    returns weary from his trip

    quicksilver moon
    embarks on her night’s course
    hunter fixes sharp eyes
    steady on the source

    gaia reaches gently
    into vast quiet space
    diamonds of stars
    gaia sparkles in place

    hunter locks the horizon
    solid in his sight
    his important grand task
    still remains on this night

    to set the late sky ablaze
    before he goes to sleep
    in patterns most bold
    in colors quite deep

    he aims his sunset gun
    and blasts overhead
    a riot of corals
    ambers oranges and red

    with a grand brilliant flash
    the heavens are afire
    in rich vivid hues
    burning hot with desire

    this dusk color festival
    has fully begun
    so hunter retires
    his job is well done
    but he first locks away
    his grand sunset gun

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 4/12/11

    Ship of Dreams

    …I have always loved the fantasy art of Dean Morrissey and James C. Christensen, and this week’s prompt at Writer’s Island put me in mind of their highly imaginative and captivating work, which in turn inspired the poem below, with its “tongue-in-cheek” ending…

     

    Ship of Dreams

    •

    fantastic is this spell I’m under
    magic of a splendorous kind
    a world of cornucopic wonder
    treasure troves of dreams to plunder
    in this kingdom of my mind

    here I live a life enchanted
    here no fear of any threat
    sorrow is by joy supplanted
    no limit to desires granted
    what I want is what I get

    fantasy’s elaboration
    a god of pleasure I ascend
    soar in sweet hallucination
    in ships of my imagination
    oh, would this dream but never end

    Epilogue

    well now, oh dear, that was a bit much
    somewhat carried away it seems
    euphoria finds me out of touch
    with reality, good sense, and such
    perhaps I’ll temper my daydreams

    throttle back my vision quest
    bring fascinations down to size
    moderation will serve me best
    but dreams are so hard to repress
    no limits when you fantasize

    • • •

    rob kistner © 3/26/11

    • written for Writer’s Island

    • art piece at top by Dean Morrissey

    ________________________

    …below is a sample of the fantasy art of James C. Christensen

    Limitless

    …limitless talent, unfathomable spirit…

    Limitless

    •

    • written for Writer’s Island

    Sooth

    Sooth

    •

    seek not the pompous
    swelled with false confidence
    dispensing the formulas of bliss
    condemning you as the un-visioned
    while fleecing you of your hard begotten

    follow not the kings and queens of mammon
    who worship the bottom line
    desiring the upper hand
    who would despoil the world and all it offers
    as their playground of gratification

    suffer not the priests and priestesses
    who would say that only they have heard
    and in so saying would dictate your thoughts
    and direct your deeds
    to conform to this truth of the god in their pocket

    do not be cowered by the iron hand
    of the bullet-brained who march in step
    to crush under boot the will of any who will not queue
    into the line that they have deemed
    leads to the only way that life must be

    do not be swayed by those who know
    possessed of absolutely no uncertainty
    knowing sure that what they know is what is
    and in their infallible knowledge
    know that what they know is was and will ever be

    instead — gather with those who do not know
    find the curious and the uncertain
    those still filled with wonder
    drawn to unfolding discovery
    who embrace the constancy of learning, change, and growth

    it is they who will traverse this evolving world
    fashioned as a fair and better place

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011


    Masquerade

    …this poem was inspired by Halloween 2010 prompt #27 at Writer’s Island.

     

    Masquerade

    •

    when donned the mask
    the transformation
    smoulders forth
    the other

    the fantasy
    of your desire
    carnal fire
    on wings of dreams

    she is she
    and too
    the other

    unleashed at light
    of passion’s moon
    a masquerade
    to ignite your soul

    manifest at your request
    sustained this night
    at her delight

    she is isis
    she is venus

    she is your every longing
    loosed
    to bring you every pleasure

    she is everything
    and all of this
    bestowed
    with aphrodite’s kiss

    as you burn
    remember this
    beneath the mask
    your real bliss

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    Evening Grace


     
    Evening Grace

    ~

    as dusk descends
    my stride holds steady
    buoyed by the gentle embrace
    of the downing golden sun

    early shadows fall soft

    vesper’s velvet blanket
    drapes ’round my shoulders
    envelops me in calm

    there is still road to travel

    eager to keep the journey
    I’m drawn by the beauty
    of the rising moon in sunset

    coaxed by a soothing breeze
    I venture on toward my love

    rolling amber fires the lane
    spreads warm ‘cross the horizon

    mist begins to rise and waft

    nestled in the valley
    I see my hearth & home
    guilded copper in this eventide

    my heart quickens
    stirred by this gorgeous vale
    the ribbon of its brook
    entwines my soul in wonder

    my smile sweetens
    my pace livens
    I hum a quiet evensong
    in the grace of this splendid day

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010


    …artwork entitled “Evening Glory” by: Steven Mitchell

  • click below to enjoy more poems at dVerse:

    Open Link #277 – Live edition