The Dance

NOTICE: intended for mature readers only…


“Venus and The Sailor” by Salvador Dali, 1925

The Dance

•

he felt the weight of her thigh
pressing against his
and the flesh of her hip
urgent against his groin
and the warmth
as he responded involuntarily
feeling a heat spread through him
a quickening of his pulse
as he swelled and swooned
growing rigid and eager
and a deep need overtook him
as he reached ’round her
firmly encircling her waist
with his great arm
bending her forward
with the mass of his body
and with his other hand
freeing himself
to enter her fully
consumed by her wetness
in a dance of dizzying desire
his urges hot and husky
on her ear and cheek
as he churned in slow pleasure
building in evermore lustful lunges
ever increasing in pace and tension
as they danced and danced
spinning into a carnal fury
until a great release
swept over them
and they melted together
in a fevered bliss
matching breath for slowing breath
and he bringing his lips
softly to the sweet nape of her neck
as they drifted to earth
entwined in the joy
and the afterglow
of love’s lingered embrace

• • •

rob kistner © 2012

…I wrote this as one uninterrupted piece to reflect the passionate nature and consummate flow of those final peak moments when one is wholly swept up in the deep and urgent throes of making love…

• this piece inspired by this visual prompt at Magpie Tales

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
to pray I not be too far drawn asunder

• • •

rob kistner © 2012

• linked at Magpie Tales

This Heart

 

This Heart

•

this heart’s now yours
this damaged heart
this brittle fractured aching heart
broken by you, every part

I’ve no use for this ruined heart
plucked here from my chest
I seek a new and vital heart
one that’s far less stressed

a fresh heart that’s unbreakable
a heart able to forgive
unmarred unscarred yet tender
beating with the joy to live

• • •

rob kistner © 2012

• linked at Magpie Tales

___________________

image: “Red Spot II”, by: Kandinsky

Rāgarāja’s Daughter

 

Rāgarāja’s Daughter

•

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

on plush cloud so sensuous
sweet comely goddess forward bent
graceful face aglow with craving
you conjure ardor’s obsession

a’bloom in beckoned fiery swoon
forearms rest on pillow soft
thoughts aflame in primal need
lips burning smile a fetched seduction

Rāgarāja’s daughter lush with Spring
smoldering in golden light
that folds upon you satin supple
to bathe in warmth your arched desire

divinely-pleasing luscious morsel
served up by a master’s hand
passion bound to tantalize
to hypnotize my hungry eyes

lost in carnal fantasy
fired by this goddess buff
arises now my animal
in a beastly urgent lust

to wrap ‘round
this maiden magic
flesh to flesh
to full consume
to thrust
and thrust
my randy lust
’til passion’s seed
has turned to dust
and wanton
carnal flames
are snuffed

Spring’s sweet madness
at last
enough

• • •

rob kistner © 2012

• linked at Magpie Tales

The Edge

 

The Edge

•

standing at the edge
feeling far below
the great tides

the ebb and flow
the rise and fall

the come and go of centuries
wave by wave
day by day

might incarnate
the power of indifference
the surge of perfect apathy

and I
as insignificant as the grain of sand
bounced and tumbled
dragged helpless in the undertow

and that crest of froth
rises up in beckon
the silk of azure blue
slides smoothly down its slope of back
as it dances on the deep

how easy I could slip
into that fathomed realm

down down ever down
into the waiting silence
without so much a noticed sound

absorbed into the churn and roar
without so much a ripple
to disturb the steady surf

a subtle crease
irrelevant
erased even as it came

• • •

rob kistner © 2011


• linked at Magpie Tales

This Night

…as you read this Christmas poem, with its taste of bittersweetness, see it not in a dark light — but rather, embrace it as a tale of a long-awaited journey, to be with the one beloved…


digital collage entitled: “Christmas Tear” – by: rob kistner © 2011

 

This Night

•

brushed my shoulder on this morning’s train
then at the market it was there again

while in line to get my breakfast tea
from our favorite table it beckoned me

walking through the festive mall
saw it amble past then out of sight
I swear I saw it fleeting fall
upon the gifts I did not wrap this night

upon the tree I did not decorate
the greeting cards I did not write
in frail voice I chastise fate
no carols to sing upon this night

this season I see it everywhere
the shadow of your love
elusive as a shopper’s smile
caught up in the crush and shove

but soon I’ll catch and hold it close
warmly to my breast
it will sweetly fill my heart
lay soft with me this midnight rest

for it returns this night each year
the same night you went away
in dreams you kiss away each tear
touch my lips that beg you stay

taken from my life in sleep
gone without a last goodbye
as we dreamed at midnight deep
each year I weep and wonder why

but this year I’ll not awaken blue
in the end an easy thing to do

this night I’ll make our dreams come true
this midnight deep – I will come to you

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

poem inspired by visual prompt below

• linked at Magpie Tales

The Journey

 

The Journey

•

beckoned to the final tide
called forth by the ferryman
spirit stirs to the distant voice
that draws you to the journey

caught still in this mortal realm
soul resigned to embarkation
time folding in upon
as slow you approach the vessel

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales

____________

image by Mostafa Habibi

Soul Food

Something life’s experiences have taught me: seeing the world for what it is makes you smart, envisioning the world for what it can be – makes you wise…

 

Soul Food

•

there are countless contradictions
in the elements of the work we do
and conflictions as we strive
but bring these not to table

for I am you
and you are me
and we are all together
in this constant labor
for our daily bread

and this toil to sustain the body
this does not feed the spirit
this is not our true work

to lift someone in need
to measure well in tolerance
to seek the components of peace
to create enduring possibility

this is the true work
in the final sweep
‘round the face of time

this is what the soul eats

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales and OSI

Bliss

 

Bliss

•

let us dare
sweet lust’s advance
to intertwine
in love’s enhance

I burn to offer
love’s special kiss
to fire your soul
in passion’s bliss

to enfold you deep
in nocturne’s hour
to taste the nectar
of your tender flower

you are the dream
that I adore
my one desire
to love you more

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• linked at Magpie Tales

Together True

 

Together True

•

you came to me
deep in my summer
on the wings of spring

filled with hope and wonder
fresh and sweet
as nature’s nectar

you brought my heart to quicken
breathed new life
to fill my soul

awakening forgotten passion
the stir of dreams
the fire of joy

we’ve lived life in celebration
touched mystery
embraced the awe

never ran away from trouble
the good and bad
we faced head on

we’ve traveled now into our winter
a place of challenge
a time of change

though the chill is at the door
still we’re blessed
with nurtured warmth

no matter what life’s weather threatens
we’re ever wrapped
in love’s embrace

side by side as was our promise
together true
to journey’s end

• • •

rob kistner © 2011


Two Moments

These are two poems about two powerful and indelible life-moments I shared with my son Justin.

The first “Night Sky” is about the courageous moment he chose, at age fourteen, to leave his mother’s home to move across our country, to live with me in Oregon — through the years of his high school and college graduations, and his early career. This was an incredible gift he gave me.

The second, “Book of Days”, is about the moment, two days ago, when he and his wife Christine, moved from Oregon to pursue a career advancement — a deeply bittersweet moment for me.

 

Night Sky

•

you arrived in spring
asking why I’d left

I had no good response
but the other shoe had fallen
with a deafening thud
so what was I to do

you looked startled by life
and asked me about sorrow

I had no good response
so I took you in
and watched as you untangled truth
marveling at your balance

for 19 years
together we watched the night sky
and wondered about love

• • •

rob kistner © 2011


Book of Days

•

in the book of days
clearly it is written
your time for moving on
beyond the reach of yesterday

in this book of days
so too is it written
clearly mine grow short
my grasp loosens on tomorrow

our miles apart grow greater
our time together lessens
as you pursue the future
I slip further in the past

and per the book of days
this is the way of nature
the son becomes the father
the father bows away

yet stands this father’s dream
would that this space between
but vanish with this pain
of bittersweet farewell

that the book somehow rewritten
would bend both time and space
and my days once more
stretch full to your horizon

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

Book of Days

 

Book of Days

•

in the book of days
clearly it is written
your time for moving on
beyond the reach of yesterday

in this book of days
so too is it written
clearly mine grow short
my grasp loosens on tomorrow

our miles apart grow greater
our time together lessens
as you pursue the future
I slip further in the past

and per the book of days
this is the way of nature
the son becomes the father
the father bows away

yet stands this father’s dream
would that this space between
but vanish with this pain
of bittersweet farewell

that the book somehow rewritten
would bend both time and space
and my days once more
stretch full to your horizon

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

• written for my son Justin upon his moving away

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

Hope

 

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 desk

to the only hope
to which I dare cling

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

this poem inspired by image below

• linked at Magpie Tales

• also linked at d’Verse

Ballo diVita

 

Ballo diVita

•

he
a master of time and space
she
so young and trusting

he
a wizard of colors and words
dazzled her with danger and dreams
she
a nubile daughter of nature
anointed him with exotic pleasures

he
replaced the sun in her sky
with a fire he conjured and kept
she
warmed herself in its heat
came to his bed at its setting

they
the left foot and the right foot poised
to step forth in creativity’s dance
to whirl and glide persistent and true
in the measure and balance of love

• • •

rob kistner © 2011