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

Love’s Summer Serenade / Seaside

These first written & published for NaPoWriMo 2010

 
Love’s Summer Serenade

sing to me my sweet sweet lover
songs as soft as silk and satin
sensual as a bare embrace
warm summer sun upon our face

promise me the world is ours
that this perfect moment’s endless
lift me up on rapture’s cloud
my racing heart is pounding loud

make melody set sail our souls
fill our hearts with passion’s fire
smother me in scorched sweet kisses
oh what a fiery bliss this is

come to me and take me timeless
sweep me off to ecstasy
enfold me in your deepest dreams
simmering under summer moonbeams

so hot we’re looking for some shade
aflame in love’s sensual serenade

*

 
Seaside

soft sand warms bare toes

senses stirred by surging surf

summer at seaside

love as fresh as ocean breeze

kisses hot as sizz’ling sun

*
rob kistner © 2010
revised © 2023

More poetry at: dVerse

 




The Return

Although here in my Seattle home, I am only 200 miles away from my Oregon, the fact that health has prevented me from returning for a number of years, and makes it impossible for me to ever again trek the breathtaking wilderness of that region, that lives so vividly in my memories — it feels that it might as well be on the other side of the country, in a beautiful, unreachable dreamscape. This envisioning I’ve written here of my return is presented from that perspective. It is likely also sparked, in no small way, by a subconscious wish that I could return to the robust health I enjoyed most of the 25 years I lived and explored in Oregon, discovering and falling in love with its precious beauty.


”It is not down in any map; true places never are.” — Herman Melville

 

Across the chasm of time
and great distance
memories unfold
vividly rich
like elaborate origami sculptures
as the paper of this odd map
unfolds bewilderingly before me

even ‘cross this flat
boring land spread
I see in my mind’s eye
soaring ramparts
of sky-piercing mountains
forested tier upon tier
with enormous sitka spruce

scattered brewers
known as the weeping spruce
the most beautiful of the conifer
whose branches in summer
display sunlight
as a jeweler’s velvet
showcases gems

the whispers
of wind-stirred
lawson cypress
towering ponderosa pine
and douglas fir
waft down emerald climbs

tangerine-scented white fir
a fragrance rivaled only
by the rough-tufted red cedar

the dogwood’s brilliant leaves
big-leaf maples
pendulous western maples
tight ranks of dark-green sadler oak

the golden shimmer
and crisp crackle
of white-barked aspen

these live and breath
boldly in my heart
calling me forward

this morning’s sun comes crisp and bright
enfolding my waking in warmth
and vivid presence
the world fresh and fascinating

I embark toward noonday
the joy of homecoming palpable
senses saturated and alive
blissfully consumed
by a deep satisfaction
that permeates this afternoon

my soul is full
my mind is clear
my heart — overflowing

as dusk descends upon this place
painting its heady grace and expectation
my pace is smooth and steady
the downing sun — a gentle gold embrace

early shadows fall soft across my face
as vesper’s velvet blanket
drapes its comfort ’round my shoulders
splendid calm envelops me

yet there are other shadows
strange distractions
that disrupt my moments
they come unannounced
almost imperceptible

but I follow close
without fear
the way blazened in my mind
and there is still far to go

I am eager to journey
drawn by the beauty
that is the rising moon in sunset

facing into the evening breeze
I venture onward

rolling amber and coral
spreads across the horizon

again the shadows shift
dull confusion finds me
I lose my pace and focus

but I do not heed
this temporary distraction
nor the suggestions of this creased parchment
unfurled before me

for it is not what will lead me home
I do not let it sway or stray me
for my heart knows the way

yet
nagging concern
disquiets me
a stab of panic
pierces my solace
have I been gone too long
will it feel the same

unwelcome bewilderment
grips me
holds me
uncomfortable in my skin

a cloud of frustration
sweeps over me
obscuring briefly
my purpose and destination

then the fog wafts
and again I envision
across the veiled valley
of time
my hearth and home

twilight is coming
much too quickly
and my concern
at first a nuisance — mounts

a gathering feeling
gnaws inside
fear I will not make it home
before this sunset

I am afraid
to lose this evening light
that leads my way

but my way
is not on this map
not on any map
it lives in my heart
and in my soul

this calms the disturbance
of my reverie
quiets my mind
brings my fear to settle
as the ease of remembered beauty
and warmth of home
swell my soul

ahead are the mountains
and forests of my Oregon home
where I finally return
to reclaim my heart
this day

now I have
such sweet recall
pulling me forward
urgently

even in the faded light
of many distant memories
these visions have held me breathless
soon I will gaze upon them again

I redouble my pace

*
rob kistner © 2022
revision of draft © 2011

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Earthweal

 


Little jazz tune from Sanborn entitled “Comin’ Home”… plus a little Keith magic!


https://youtu.be/k84QxVJd0tIp


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!

F73191A0-68C6-47D9-A8C6-5809E6E42C86

 
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.

2DBE48D1-D83D-4264-BDAA-AA70DF8030B7

 
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

72EAC6E4-ED97-4ACE-B816-3028D8B86226

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

FE8DCFC2-3B38-4BAF-84D8-F8E29EB677F7

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

18EC9DB3-5C36-460D-97F4-9B63007C92BF
 
*

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
  • Spellbound

    poet
    you are enigma

    darkness and shadow
    you veil and shroud

    fire and light
    you burn and incandesce

    torch my essence
    burn deep my soul
    trouble my spirit
    unsettle my being

    then poet
    ignite my wonder

    whet my seeker’s vessel
    with need
    to be filled full

    poet
    at once familiar
    yet
    exotically foreign
    wonderfully strange

    wrongly boxed but
    exquisitely wrapped

    in angst
    indignation
    longing
    discovery
    loss

    in love

    with all these
    and infinitely more
    you reach an empty place
    deep within

    echoing my past
    awakening my myths

    exposing
    that which I embrace
    in the moment
    as truth

    refocus me

    stirring my pain
    my anger
    my loneliness

    my hope

    offering just enough answer
    that I combust with question
    sacred uncertainty

    I’m held
    suspended in inquiry
    in memories of neverwas

    enrapt by your careful words
    transfixed by mystery
    elevated by insight
    impaled by vision

    spellbound

    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
  • The Gift


     
    The Gift

    ~

    unworthy fool am I

    to ignore it
    to abuse it
    to mistreat it
    to misuse it
    to mishandle it at every turn

    no way am I deserving

    yet over and over
    you lay it at my feet
    to protect each step
    on life’s harsh road

    time after time
    you wrap it round me
    as shelter
    from sorrow’s storm

    again and again
    it nurtures and sustains me
    on my journey through
    the wastelands of the lonely

    this light
    this precious treasure

    no way do I deserve
    but forever will I cherish
    your soul gift
    of selfless love

    would I could give you
    such a gift in return
    it would be my purest
    my most unselfish gift

    a gift golden as the sun
    tied in a tinsel of stars
    to nurture you always
    to keep you radiant

    my most precious gift
    of a love supreme

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

    32AD0E85-B0A5-4D6D-B19A-E51CD04E0C53DAY 7

    And So

    “sweet memories of my youth”

     

    And So

    ~

    and so
    I think of her
    and wonder

    what was the fire
    that burned so bright
    and raged so fierce
    as to consume complete

    our essence
    left embered char
    smoldered ashen

    that in its heat
    and fury
    could not sustain

    back I drift
    to fall upon
    the tenderness of youth

    the satin skin
    the comely gaze
    the velvet touch

    a silken voice
    rising
    to lust and longing

    to impatience

    to immortality

    its soulful siren
    so seductive
    the nectar of all forbidden

    the breathless joy
    of sweet innocence

    when the wonder
    stirs to every mystery
    and the spirit lights
    to every spark

    igniting passion’s pyre

    to leave one spent
    in blissful ruin
    at story’s end

    tender memory
    of the throaty whispers
    of promised pleasures
    sweetly secreted
    in her virgin kiss

    and so
    I think of her

    remembering
    with no regret

    savoring the subtle linger
    harbored in my heart
    of the taste
    of her lips

    long ago
    at seventeen

    ~ ~

    “lips lush as cognac
    open softly to kisses
    urgently linger”

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 2019)

    ________________

    23749CC2-151F-4BDE-BA62-BC76B9234D39

     
    click here to read more poetry at dVerse

    Clarion Stones

  • revised for Lillian at dVerse Poet’s Pub


     
    Clarion Stones

    ~

    all those years ago
    in the time of dangers
    they were placed in secret
    as a silent beacon
    in that deepest night

    waiting for the day
    when the shadowed world
    would waken from the nightmare
    shed its narrow petty ways
    and embrace the way of light

    stacked by those of vision
    blessed in hope and courage
    one upon the other
    like knowledge upon learning
    these standing stones of peace

    hear them call across the ages
    and beckon us to rise
    to step into the future
    to envision a new dream
    to let fear and hatred cease

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 1/22/19)


    67F4B295-9233-407D-934F-9CA3C5A2B3F5
    stacked stones in Sedona red-rock desert

    _______________________

    These sculptures are called cairns. A cairn is a human-made balanced stack of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Cairns have been, and still are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present. They are stacked as landmarks, direction finders, memorials, and also spiritual reasons, among other purposes.

  • Check out more shedding at dVerse:

    Shed some light on this today!

  • 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
  • Hedone’s Daughter

  • WARNING! For adult readers only!
  •  

    loves-serenade

     

    Hedone’s Daughter

    ~

    radiant vision silken skinned
    translucent alabaster blaze
    torrid as a teen’s temptation
    leaned low
    here before me
    yearning

    straplened ankles fragile turned
    stiletto’d rise
    on carpet soft
    emblazened vixen
    forward bent
    availed so boldly
    flush with craving

    graceful face
    brazen aglow
    comely raised and tilted back
    my fingers tangled in your hair
    lifting firm
    yet luscious slow

    swept away in lustful swoon
    forearms rest on velvet sheets
    eyes aflame in sapphire need
    blatant in your fetched seduction

    Hedone’s daughter lush with Spring
    smouldering
    in golden light
    that folds upon you soft as satin
    ‘cross nape of neck
    arched silk desire

    down glistening back
    that tempting tapers
    to the tender
    warm and sultry
    wonderland for fingertips
    to touch
    and tease
    and tantalize

    to explore
    your quivering body
    soul-addictive
    luscious
    grand
    divinely-pleasing sculpted vessel
    brought forth by Aphrodite’s hand

    virgin fruit swells full and ripe
    flesh silhouette to hypnotize
    enticing in the candle’s flicker
    fondled by my hungry eyes

    they stroke and tweak
    the blossomed berries
    that burst
    engorged with passion’s heat

    that taunt my tongue to twirl ’round
    my teeth to nip in playful tug
    draw to my lips
    now lewdly moist
    to take
    and taste in eager suckle

    willful hands
    of pleasured probing
    wrap slender waist
    then slowly slide
    ‘cross pleading hips
    of sensuous rise
    to fall into erotic folds
    molded from the charms of Venus

    ’round dual swells of burning myth
    that writhe
    atop two lathen’d stems
    long and lithe
    as liquid love
    turned by pleasure’s gloried angels
    tempered in a sacred fire

    stretched taut
    raised high on tips of toes
    proud
    defined
    and goddess buff

    enough to make one
    want to stuff
    to thrust and thrust
    in randy lust
    ’til passion’s seed
    has turned to dust

    and wanton
    carnal
    flames
    are snuffed

    spring’s sweet madness
    full rebuffed

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 2018)

    _____________________

  • candle photo entitled “Lovers” by: Bolshevixen
  • photographer of couple embracing unknown
  • Click to read more dVerse poems of desire

  • Yet

  • inspired by the first day I met my wife in 1987…

     

    Yet

    ~

    had she not appeared in that clearing
    so lost

    had she not crossed my threshold
    on that september day

    had not her voice
    drifted like silk on a summer breeze
    to wrap sheer and sweet
    around my heart

    had not I been drawn
    like a bloom to the morning sun

    had not I been captivated
    as a hummingbird
    by a drop of nectar
    crystal on a velvet petal

    had not my love come down
    soft as a rolling mountain meadow

    had not this dream been born

    had not my life begun again

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

  • Arrested

    7898C942-7AD3-4529-B3A3-8857CFA275D8

     
    Arrested

    ~

    she’s left only her jacket on
    unbuttoned
    blousing open

    the gold of her badge
    glints fetchingly
    in the glow of candlelight

    her breasts
    partially veiled
    soft in the amber wash
    gently rise and fall
    with her heavy breath

    helplessly
    my eyes glide her length
    fondled warmly
    by the lush half-light
    folding upon her
    from the single flame

    they pause
    entranced by the velvet flower
    sensuously shadowed
    in the satin cleft
    where supple limb
    meets supple limb

    intoxicated by this vision
    I can only stare
    and melt

    utterly arrested

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

    ________________________

    The “X” rated 2018 version

  •  
    -=> RAW ADULT  CONTENT <=-

    ABD318EC-3EEA-4D4A-9667-B71AC2A5DD98

  • Arrested
    ~
    unbuckling her regulation holster
    she lays it neatly
    on the sest of her cycle

    she removes the rest of her wespons
    and places them on the ground

    she is now unarmed
    but she is still packin’

    unzipping
    she lets her regulation uniform trousers
    slide in a nylon rustle
    down her thigh high lace tops
    to fall
    gathered at her sculpted ankles

    leaving her regulation leather heels on
    she steps over her slacks
    abandoned at her feet

    she walks toward me slowly
    hips pivoting left then right
    taut thighs mesh silken

    swish  swish  swish

    placing one foot
    in front of the other
    striding with authority
    heels sounding

    click  click  click

    she approaches
    backlit by the red and blue pulses
    of the BMW’s frenzied lightbar

    she stops
    straddling over me
    as I am handcuffed
    sitting on the highway
    leaning agaist the door
    of my Audi R8
    popping and snapping
    as the 610 hp’s cool

    she unbottons her regulation jacket
    and drops it at my side
    she’s left only her regulation shirt on
    as she unbuttons
    it blouses open

    her body badge is revealed
    the gold glints fetchingly
    as it dangles
    on a thick leather cord
    from around her smooth firm neck
    resting nestled
    in the perfect cleavage
    of her pert young
    braless breasts

    no

    these are tits
    perfect tits
    right out of a teen’s temptation
    aglow in amber warning lights

    her nipples
    proudly erect
    partially veiled
    soft in the amber wash
    gently rise and fall
    with her heavy breathing

    leaning over
    fixing me with her fiery eyes
    she speaks
    “you were driving recklessly – sir”
    then rips away her black string thong

    helplessly
    looking up
    my eyes glide slowly
    lustfully down her length
    fondled warmly
    by the flashing golden-orange
    folding and refolding
    upon her luscious flesh

    they pause in gentle decent
    entranced by the velvet mons
    shorn smooth and oiled
    sensuously shadowed
    in the satin cleft
    where supple limb
    meets supple limb

    intoxicated by this vision
    I can only stare
    swelling rigid with excitement
    and swoon
    breathless

    utterly arrested
    eager for interrogation

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2018

    Drowning

    Drowning

    ~

    on the boulevard
    outside
    last night’s rain
    puddles
    midst the chaos of metro-clutter
    as if abandoned
    by the waters of earth

    it shoulders its way
    through the culverts
    in search of mother sea

    this day begins golden and crisp
    bird songs echo empty sunrise streets

    lovers and their beloved
    sit by morning windows
    with tea
    and curiosity

    they talk

    in these moments
    their souls spill
    one into the other
    entranced

    somewhere
    tender lips
    are sculpting sweet words

    but here in this quiet
    I drown in your eyes
    fallen into azure pools

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

  • Click for bonus pleasure…

  • Golden Lady

     

    Golden Lady

    •

    golden lady in sensuous silk
    a beauty sure to mesmerize
    sculpted by a master’s hand
    so seductive as to scandalize

    a stare of comely crystal blue
    floats above a ruby pout
    spellbound by her magic eyes
    she holds your soul with no way out

    her tongue tip teases her top lip’s edge
    like a supple paintbrush flowing
    her smile will fire and hypnotize
    then wrap around you knowing

    you are now her helpless captive
    quite hopelessly addicted
    in the velvet grip of this smoldering waif
    is she an angel — or is she wicked

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    ____________

    image by Bert Stern