Tag: sorrow

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

Hope

  • For society to have a real chance we need quality education!

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    Last Hope

    ~

    I lift myself quietly
    very quietly
    from beneath the sheets
    soiled with neglect
    soaked with my nightmares

    I am again awake
    from another dark night
    that began with fear
    fear I might not survive
    and ends in sorrow
    realizing I did

    I rise
    make my way carefully
    past the shallow-breathed crumple
    that lay milky-eyed
    in a heap on the floor
    un-moving
    save a twitch of the head

    a head which now harbors demons
    where nocturnal angels of sweet release
    had lain down lush upon it
    in fevered embrace
    lustfully conjured
    by last night’s spoon and lance
    still skewered silver in the soured vein

    this wreckage is my mother

    I stop but for a glance
    verifying life
    then move on head down
    angle to the bathroom
    to the scum-brown bowl
    to wash my face
    lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
    that hangs bare and lonely

    strange eyes
    hold me in the mirror
    broken as my heart

    eyes of knowing
    eyes of sadness

    grief courses through me
    weighing upon my being
    burning into my heart

    I want to cry out
    but there is no one here to hear me
    no hero that can help me

    driven by instinct to survive
    by urgency to flee
    I shudder away the paralyzing despair

    in this dank food-less morning
    in this ruined single room
    in this coat-less chill of predawn
    I gather up my books
    step lightly through the door
    down the damaged stairs
    into the hostile streets
    heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams

    I duck and dodge
    in and out of shadows
    praying to once again avoid the evil
    that lurks and slinks
    among the garbage and graffiti
    of these crumbled bricken’d canyons

    that rolls slow and lethal
    gripping cold blue steel
    in predatory drive-by

    evil
    seductive as a smile
    deadly as a snake

    evil
    which if diligence should fail
    I fear will consume my soul

    deliberately I continue
    until at last I find my way
    to the building
    to the classroom
    to my teacher
    to my desk

    to the only hope
    to which I dare cling

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2011
    (revision © 2019)

    ___________________________

    Click to learn more about toad’s social awareness

    • That Hollywood Sparkle

     

    That Hollywood Sparkle

    ~

    it’s not so much we resent the hungry
    no more than do we despise the poor
    rather we avoid and dismiss them
    with the dull cough of apathy
    we find them disturbing and dangerous
    they disquiet our comfort
    they disrupt our summer stroll downtown

    we do not flow with the milk of kindness
    our part is more the dark brandy of denial
    afterall what is it we can really do
    we do however praise our stars
    for their sensitivity toward the downtrodden
    it makes the less fortunate more glamorous
    and we like the hollywood sparkle it imparts to tragedy

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 6/26/18

    The Startled Man

     

    The Startled Man

    ~

    this “she” was birthed
    in his fractured dreams
    helpless as a forest fawn
    frail as a snowflake
    falling on a May predawn

    a captive
    to his fearful heart
    caught in his twisted fantasy
    conjured by his crippled soul
    his power is his fallacy

    he needs her weak
    for at his core
    he’s filled with sour doubt
    knows his time of tyranny
    is quickly running out

    threatened
    he seeks to dominate
    silences her rising voice
    to keep her mute and under thumb
    tries to deny her right of choice

    with strengthened will
    she finds her voice
    speaks direct to what she sees
    startled by her forthright way
    he wants her back upon her knees

    once a hollow woman-husk
    with sorrow dark as growing dusk
    whose spirit withered
    in the dimming light
    as nightmares swelled
    night after night
    whose tears once seared the barren land

    now rebukes
    his fisted hand
    and walks away
    from the startled man

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

    Morning’s Pardon

  • Morning brings we fallen mortals forgiveness and hope…

    •  

    Morning’s Pardon

    ~

    fallen into night’s embrace
    held down by dark shadows
    I writhe in the arms of nightmare

    would that I could rise
    into the light of dawn’s nod
    but I’m flesh, weak, consumed by flesh

    purity laid raw entangled in my sin
    skin to skin with my obsession
    restrained to roil in my transgression

    but soon the light of morne
    will fold itself upon me pardoned
    oh pray I not be too far drawn asunder

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

    The Dimming

     

    The Dimming

    •

    here is the change

    the forgetting

    the slipping away
    into the haze of memory

    the frustration
    of no longer being able
    and still
    the burning longing to…
    remember

    and you
    dimming in this fog
    midst the times we have cherished
    the places we have loved
    fading beyond reach

    an ever-mounting loneliness
    like so many vacant seats

    empty

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Silent

     

    Silent

    ~

    do you hear the autumn wind
    stirring in the branches

    do you hear the leaves rustle

    do you hear my breath
    whispering your name

    do you hear my heart beat

    do you hear my tears fall

    or is it silent

    silent as the light-less realm
    that hauntingly engulfs my soul

    silent as that night
    when apples spilled
    on the broken stair
    where rail eluded
    your grasping hand

    silent as your futile cry
    when no voice came
    to grace your lips

    tender lips
    that parted gently
    to hold my kiss

    lips

    that will not know again
    sweet fruit

    nor love

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2011

     

    poem & image above inspired by visual prompt below

    * linked 2011 at Magpie Tales

    * linked 2020 at Poets & Storytellers

    Silence – two reflections

    These two poetic reflections are unrelated, beyond their focus on silence. The first reflection here considers what it is to fall into the deepening silence of old age. The second reflection looks at the silence that causes, and also results from repression…

     

    1ST REFLECTION

    Endings

    •

    shrouded by evening in waning october
    as autumn tumbles towards winter
    is to know the losing of the light
    the ever growing darkness
    the advance of the cold
    the time of endings
    death’s due vigil
    deep silence

    how do I abide this season

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    2ND REFLECTION

    Silenced

    •

    escape was an improbability
    as was understanding
    opinions regarding outcome
    ignored altogether
    fate sealed with no discourse
    executed with an air of entitlement

    when one has no arms to flail
    no fists to clench
    no fingers to point
    gestures of dissent are sorely limited
    rights easily wrest away
    freedom falls beyond grasp

    inevitable
    when one has no voice

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    poem “Silenced” inspired by image below

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    King of Sunrise

     

    King of Sunrise

    •

    on 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 gutters
    in search of mother sea

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

    me and the first edition
    we sit by this morning window
    with coffee and curiosity
    quietly serenaded by the 5:00 AM news

    I read
    occasionally glimpse the screen
    grow troubled by our human plight
    amazed how we never learn
    when the answers seem so obvious

    in this moment
    the tv drones
    my frustration rises
    my spirit slips
    my mind drifts
    lifting on the vapor ribbons
    wafting from my steaming cup
    until I stare distracted

    the announcer’s mouth continues sculpting words
    but I’ve fallen deep into my thoughts
    imagining how different it would be
    if I ruled this world

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Images – a ten year vigil

    …lest we ever forget

     

     

     

    Images


    •

    images

    unreal
    unfathomable images

    the graceful glide
    engulfed by the spire
    in a roar of golden orange

    horribly beautiful

    perversely mesmerizing

    obscene
    devastating images

    torrents of humanity
    raining down

    desperation their only escape

    masses of humanity
    racing
    to outrun the unbelievable

    praying
    to be delivered from the inconceivable

    traumatic images

    shrines of free commerce
    consumed
    by the unbearable weight
    of their fragile significance
    plummeting to earth
    in a cloud of self-destruction

    heartbreaking images

    screaming
    dazed
    terrified souls
    consumed
    by the unbearable weight of the moment

    staggering onward
    to outdistance the surging roll
    of all-engulfing
    pulverized aftermath

    courageous images

    battered
    determined
    tireless heroes

    those who were called
    who served unselfishly

    some
    who gave the ultimate service

    haunting images

    color
    gender
    ethnicity
    wiped away
    from the ashen-grey faces
    of the traumatized throngs

    now just masks of calamity

    all made equal
    by horror and grief

    one nation
    under siege
    inconsolable
    with tragedy and sorrow
    for all

    unforgettable images
    burned into our hearts

    • • •

    rob kistner © 9/11/09

     

    Clown

     

    Clown

    •

    I’m the sad little clown with the frowning face
    the round red nose and the great big tear
    this meek facade and silly sham
    belie the horror that I engineer

    life’s dealt me cold my hand is slack
    not one queen no king nor ace
    so violence now dwells in me
    masked behind my woeful face

    no one suspects the evil soul
    that festers deep in this funny fool
    they know not the monster here
    my gentle sheen conceals the cruel

    they don’t realize a broken heart
    a ruined life makes one quite mad
    they simply see the pitiful
    the painted face that looks so sad

    the shaggy coat the baggy pants
    the red suspenders the big white glove
    they do not know it hides the hand
    that choked the life from the one they love

    town after town state after state
    bodies mount in the circus’ wake
    in the dead of night at the dark of moon
    in frenzied fever each life I take

    each beautiful each innocent
    each unaware that they would die
    there will be more on the road ahead
    one for every tear you made me cry

    when the circus comes and the tents go up
    the people cheer in each sleepy town
    because the poor fools just don’t know
    who’s really come is the killer clown

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    _____________________

    for two more tales of murder written in dark rhyme click “more”

    Already Vanished

     

    Vanished

    •

    and he saw them leaving
    and he opened his mouth in farewell
    but only dust escaped

    and broken dreams

    and a spoiled promise
    from long ago
    left too long on the shelf

    so he raised his hand
    to gesture a wave
    but he was rigid
    and could not

    and they did not hear him
    and they did not see him

    for he had already vanished

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Junebug

     

    Junebug

    •

    how impertinent
    moth and junebug

    what’s with all this buzzing chatter
    you’re bump and thump and all a’clatter
    worrying with the frontporch light
    steaming on this august night
    such racket over a minor matter

    while here below you
    my heart breaks in silence

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales and OSI

    Sea Song

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

     

    Sea Song

    •

    sad she comes
    everyday
    to these empty shores
    on wings of memory
    to serenade this sea

    a song of longing
    bowed on strings
    of a broken heart
    mournful for the one
    lost to these silent fathoms

    her tears
    steady as the mists
    relentless swept away
    by these cold
    indifferent waves

    only they
    know where her lover lies
    so everyday she comes
    taunted by these tides
    to seek their mystery

    and every night
    darkness falls
    chill upon this deep

    her forlorn refrain
    shatters in the moonlight
    the sea holding cruel tight
    to its precious secret

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    _________________________

    TWO OTHER RECENT POEMS:


    “And So”


    “The Sync”

    Scorched

     

    Scorched

    •

    the landscape
    losing its gild
    mottles
    in gunmetal grays

    fractured storm clouds
    churn
    in huddling menace

    brightened breezes
    that sizzled in the aspens
    build
    buffeted by the angry front
    thrashing
    into brittling winds

    the world
    tumbles towards darkness

    my heart
    shudders in deep shadow
    mourning love’s devastation

    scorching words
    bite and sting
    where they sizzle still
    blistering my careless tongue

    would that it rain
    drown the lands
    that I might
    turn my face to the sky
    flood my foolish mouth
    charred by regret
    with drenching waters
    of contrition

    to douse the cruel fire
    of that
    which should never have been said

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • collage entitled “Sorrow” – by: rob kistner © 2011

    ________________

    inked at Writer’s Island