Island Paradise

~ in loving memory of my father, Robert T Kistner, Sr ~


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Tech Free” by: rob kistner © 3/26/24

 

True wilderness
is an integral part of my soul
first etched into my essence
by my adoptive father in 1951

I was four-years-old

I discovered this bliss
deep in the Canadian forests
two weeks every year
immersed in the beauty of Ontario

exploring remote lakes
traversing wild streams
fishing
hiking
camping
totally off the grid

no phones
no TV
no electricity

it was glorious

but for me
my xanadu
lay at the end
of a long exciting journey
on water
from Lehman’s Landing
the little provisions station
where we put in our boat
to begin the journey

they also sold gas
kerosene
block ice
food staples
and basic medical supplies

this was the last outpost
that could be reached by car
after 3 hours from Espanola
on primitive Ontario forest road
mostly sand an gravel
hard packed into the Canadian soil
by years of loggers and fisherman

the water journey involved portaging
and careful hand-poling

I loved the adventure of it
as did my dad

portaging a chain of pristine lakes
poling through boulder strewn narrows
to reach a beloved destination

the small private island
my father co-owned
with a wonderful Canadian family
the Disanti’s

rising on that island
was in my eyes
a magical chateau

an amazing wilderness cabin
hand-built of self-cut logs
the home and hearth
that will forever
hold a precious part
of my fragile heart

inside its pine log walls
stacked
notched
and pegged walls

a huge wood-burning stove
black iron and bold
with imposing strong legs
powerfully flexed and arched
lifting the mass in steady grip

it was the warm heart
of the love-filled cabin

it cooked the fish we caught
and small game dad hunted
in the wild forests
just across the crystal clear
glacier cold lake

stoked with kindling
and hand-split logs
collected in the forests
thick across the lake
big black also generously
offered the enveloping caress
and impeccable comfort of its warmth

a small hand-hewn log
and sawdust ice house
was nestled conveniently out back
hand-built to sustain perishable foods

it was fresh stocked each week
large ice blocks
retrieved in a 6-hour round trip
to and from Lehman’s Landing

two hand-built log & plank docks
one each side of our island
made access and egress effortless
for these provision runs
which included food and fuel
in addition to the block ice

the granite island itself
a bit under an acre in size
was covered in tufts of scrub grass
bracken fern
black rock and warrior moss
and wild ground-cluster blueberries

also, the remaining stand of white pine
mostly felled to build the cabin
and a small lawn of Kentucky bluegrass
imported to grace the front porch

pure glacial drinking/cooking water
came right out of the lake

waking up to meet the sunrise
found the cozy cabin
falling into a Canadian morning chill

the sound of lake loons
echoing across the water
through the morning mist

the smell of bacon
eggs and potatoes
beginning to permeate
the warming cabin
were intoxicating

these are treasured memories
memories of the place
that endure
that live
and will forever live
in my heart

as does the precious memory
of my beloved adoptive father
who introduced me
as a child
to this wild
beautiful
exhilarating
paradise

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Blossoms & Swans

Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Blossoms & Swans” by: rob kistner © 3/25/24

 

The burst of cherry blossoms outside my window, always heralds an uplift in my mood. Their bright blooms bring a lightness to my spirit, that puts a smile in my heart. Their delicate countenance speaks to me of peace and gentle beauty, while the heady fragrance stirs thoughts and feelings of love.

They deliver me from the doldrums of winter into the joys of the unfolding spring, celebrating renewal and new possibility. The time of cherry blossoms is a sacred time of transcendence, to be honored and embraced with gratitude, for the blessing of rebirth. May this stricken world find rekindled hope.

sweet pink blossoms burst
red spring buds have spread their wings
my heart is reborn

rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse


 

Peace Seeker

Ottavo Rima
A s nightmares emerge in dark midnight hours
the weakest among us, withdraws and cowers
we forfeit our pride, and wilt like dead flowers
as the chill settles ‘round us we lose our nerve
it’s then our lesser self, we begin to serve
blackness deflates us, the night noise grates us,
our hidden ghost of guilt, haunts and berates us
we’re certain a gothic demon awaits us
but with a bit of courage, backbone and guts
we might find some peace in our breakfast grape-nuts

*


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Peace Seeker” by: rob kistner © 3/21/24

 

D eep in this morning silence
as the world awakens
I find solace in the calm
which embraces our forest

in the gentle whisper of wind

in the soft rich colors of dawn

hues of mauve and aurus streak the sky
painting this breathtaking canvas
that stretches to forever

swaddled in this intoxicating peace
intimately in touch with nature’s essence
enwrapped in a spirit vision
I am deeply moved
moved to quiet tears

moved by the fragility that is life
by its wondrous complexity
by its powerful will to sustain


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Complexity & Fragility”
by: rob kistner © 3/21/24

there is a peace here
in this bond of interconnectedness

how precious this moment of balance

the universe has conspired
that I be in this place
that I be of this time

lifted in the euphoria of peace
I resonate with purpose

that I be enjoined to the cause
of the blessed harmony
of the spheres


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Harmony Of the Spheres”
by: rob kistner © 3/21/24

and so I linger
savoring this miracle

lost in the gentle rhythm of being
in the ethereal beat of my heart

impeccably aware
this is precisely
where I’m meant
and for what

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Monovision

This poem and art inspired by René Magritte’s “Golconda” —>

 


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Monovision” by: rob kistner © 3/19/24

 
U nfurling linearity
accumulating into the future
tethered to a uniform past
paralyzed in the now

over and over
repeating in my head
these same odd words
this same strange vision
a visual drone
over and over

unfurling linearity
accumulating into the future
tethered to a uniform past
paralyzed in the now

always the same fevered dream
this inflexible fear

I am fallen paralyzed
unable to lift my head

then I see coming
ever coming
falling slowly
out of the mist
drifting down
always coming

menacingly
unsmiling
faces

coming down

I want to rise up
run at them
scream at them
shake them

but I cannot
I cannot

then a low drone
a haunting chorus of voices

I’m going
going mad I think
then I scream out
in my smothering nightmare
“I’m going mad
absolutely mad!”

suddenly
in voiced unison

“yes Asimo
you are going mad”

“Asimo” I shout back
“my name is not Asimo”

then comes again
the unified voice
a disembodied voice
“oh, but we are all Asimo now”

“no” I cry out
“please go away
leave me alone
what do you want!”

“want?
why — you Asimo…
we want you”

“I think you’re all crazy”
in my dream
my head’s tilted back
angrily shouting

“no no Asimo, you are — thinking?
there’s no thinking —
just being comfortably tethered…
tethered to our uniform past
safe in our rigid now
unfurling into our linear future”

I am shuddering as I awaken
sweating
terrified

then, suddenly startled
I hear it

yes
in the distance

an unmistakable
low droning

unintelligible unified voices

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 



Zoot’n


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “To the 9’s” by: rob kistner © 3/18/24

 
S harp dressed dude
in a felt chapeau
deepest red
as fine Bordeaux

french-cuff ivory shirt
soft as cream dessert

red linen coat
double-breasted
uptown savvy
teal velvet-vested

tan gabardine slacks
3-pleated right
sunshine satin tie
knotted tight

lookin’ like jazz-age Paris
on Saturday night

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Brigands

This is a poem of recollection — a cherished past, living 25 years in Oregon City.


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Chickaree” by: rob kistner © 3/14/24

 
Outside my window
here in the Cascade foothills
late afternoon celebrates

alive in April’s sun
it’s the scurry of small things
the flight of majestic birds
warmed by Spring rising

imminent-equinox nature
midst the rich vernal spectrum
is in splendid voice

the chuff of tree’d red squirrel
the American Red Squirrel
Tamiasciurus Hudsonicus

referred to by many
as the chickaree
or even pine squirrel

these chattery little bandits
prefer the higher-elevation
coniferous forests of Oregon

they blend their chittered bursts
with the songs
chirps
and trills of birds

chickadee
goldfinch
western bluebird
northern flicker
western tanager

and high airborne
osprey
hawk
and eagle

so many others
that fly
flutter
and flit
through the intoxicating
Pacific NW mountain air

all the while
quick little chickaree

in lightning-fast raiding parties
are stealing
cracking
and feasting on
wild bird seed

they effortlessly spill these
from my
“strategically placed”
squirrel-proof
bird feeders

yeah / right!

nothing is safe
from these scampering
bushy-tailed brigands

highly aggressive
fiercely territorial

their little 6” bodies
11” including tails
are amazingly physically capable

swinging
twisting
leaping
hanging
balancing

fearless acrobats
unbelievable contortionists

they can climb straight up
an extremely slippery
pencil-thin
6’ tall black metal pole

and then hang
by only one hand-like paw
while eating

utterly amazing

I watch it
still don’t believe it

cute as they are
they’re exasperating as hell

these seed raids
occasionally occur
under the patient eye
of a wise Red-Tailed Hawk

also with a mind on dinner

depending on disposition
this winged watcher
can make these raids
much less enthusiastic

wild nature checks
while always seeking balance


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Red Tailed Hawk”
by: rob kistner © 3/14/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

~ we must protect the wild spaces for these, and all magnificent creatures ~

M’Love

For me, this is a poem of nostalgia.


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “M’Love” by: rob kistner © 3/14/24

 
Just beyond the garden wall
across the meadow
last night’s dew clings fondly
to our willow’s cascade
enwrapping it
in crystalline embrace

comes a zephyr’s stir
it shimmers

as if bejeweled with diamonds
sparkling in the morning sunlight

a splendor befitting
the lush beauty

this bright Spring day
has begun clear and crisp

bird songs lilt gently
carried on the soft breeze

our willow rustles
a tender murmur

I see you afar
approaching on the woodland path
backlit by April’s sunrise

your hair flashes golden
a’burst in dawn’s glow

I am a smitten lover
beholding my beautiful beloved

I watch you
as you stop by the willow
a’swim in wildflowers

your head tilts upward
eyes close
lost in nature’s serenade

in this moment
breathtaken
my love spills over

desire kindles ’round me
until I am ablaze

you fix your eyes upon me
your lips sculpt a smile
then a kiss

good morning they say

I fly to you
take you in my arms
swept up on passion’s wings

this golden morning
I am consumed
by the sweet fire
of m’love


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Sunrise Kiss”
by: rob kistner © 3/14/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Blackthorn Rose


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Bewitching” by: rob kistner © 3/12/24

 
Beautiful eyes
dangerous and deep as nile nocturne
scorching as nubian sundance

this blackthorn rose
is the secreted passion
craving’s dominance

bewitched of eros

the sultry goddess
inscribed in the book of ardor

fired in molten desire
a woman forged of earthen bronze

an ebony sorceress
vernal seductress
emerged from a golden dawn

ablaze in the sensual dreams
of writhing midnight

smoldering ember
in the golden echo
of a soul-torched love call
sustained to surrender’s sweet moan

she is smoke and flame
lust’s mysterious traveler

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse
 

Voices in the Willow

This is a long and winding path – hope you enjoy the walk, if you take it.


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Weeping Willow” by: rob kistner © 3/7/24

 
The old man sat quietly
day after day
hands resting on his knees
day after day
hardly moving

save to rouse
raise his hands
brush his brow
then adjust his cap

day after day
quietly
on the same park bench
at the pond
near the same tree
same willow

you could watch him come
mid-morning

see him leave
at dinner time

day after day
sitting there
hands on his knees
quietly
same bench
same tree

one evening
as he sat there
I left my office
walked across the street
into the park

I approached him
smiled
and sat down beside him
quietly

he said nothing
so we sat together
for a while
quietly
on the bench
by the tree

finally
I spoke up

why do you sit here
old man
sit here
everyday
day after day
here on this bench
watching the pond
so quietly

he tilts his head
I’ve come here for years
he says softly

but how can that be
I say
these office buildings
this park
they’re all new
how could you have come
to this park
for years

not to this park
he says
not to this park
to this tree

me
and all my friends
came to willow pond
to this tree
this old willow
for years
day after day

why
I ask
why to this tree

quiet smile
we played cards
in its shade

he explains

we talked
laughed
we listened
at the pond
in its wonderful shade
day after day
this wonderful willow

where are your friends
I ask
why are they not here
with you
on the bench

because
…he hesitates

they are gone
he says finally
quietly

gone
gone where

gone
is all he says
quietly
unmoving
hands on his knees
all gone

oh
I say
I see

do you
he replies

so why do you sit here
day after day

asking more

I’m listening

listening
I say
listening for what

he sits quietly for a while
then
without changing his gaze
without raising his hands
from his knees
he says haltingly
for our laughter
our beautiful laughter

I still hear it
hear them
here
on the breeze
in this willow


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Come To Visit”
by: rob kistner © 3/7/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Listening

This is a long and winding path – hope you enjoy the walk, if you take it.


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Weeping Willow” by: rob kistner © 3/7/24

 
The old man sat quietly
day after day
hands resting on his knees
day after day
hardly moving …musing

save to rouse
raise his hands
brush his brow
then adjust his cap …catnap

day after day
quietly
on the same park bench
at the pond
near the same tree
same willow …below

you could watch him come
mid-morning …mourning

see him leave
at dinner time …resigned

day after day
sitting there
hands on his knees
quietly
same bench
same tree …he

one evening
as he sat there
I left my office
walked across the street
into the park …dark

I approached him
smiled
and sat down beside him
quietly …expectantly

he said nothing
so we sat together
for a while
quietly
on the bench
by the tree …comradery

finally
I spoke up …interrupt

why do you sit here
old man
sit here
everyday
day after day
here on this bench
watching the pond
so quietly
…sullenly

he tilts his head
I’ve come here for years
he says softly …calmly

but how can that be
I say
these office buildings
this park
they’re all reasonably new
how could you have come
to this park
for years
…unclear

not to this park
he says
not to this park
to this tree
…explicitly

me
and all my friends
came to willow pond
to this tree
this old willow
for years
day after day
…pray

why
I ask
why to this tree …quizzically

quiet smile
we played cards
in its shade

he explains …pertains

we talked
laughed
we listened
at the pond
in its wonderful shade
day after day
this wonderful willow
…mellow

where are your friends
I ask
why are they not here
with you
on the bench
…ma’mensch

because
…he hesitates
they are gone
he says finally
quietly …sadly

gone
gone where
…share

gone
is all he says
quietly
unmoving
hands on his knees
all gone …withdrawn

oh
I say
I see …sympathy

do you
he replies …scrutinize

so why do you sit here
day after day

I’m asking …basking

I’m listening …wishing

listening
I say
listening for what …jump-cut

he sits quietly for a while
then
without changing his gaze
without raising his hands
from his knees
he says haltingly
for our laughter
our beautiful laughter
…everafter

I still hear it
hear them
here
on the breeze
in this willow
…hello-hello


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Come To Visit”
by: rob kistner © 3/7/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Realm of Somnus


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Exhausted” by: rob kistner © 3/4/24

 
E xhaustion hangs heavy
anchored ‘round my neck
I cannot stand nor straighten
pinned ‘neath enervation’s wreck
cannot lift this weight
by which my soul’s bound
no energy remains
to carry this burden ‘round
into the slumber realm of Somnus
I sink fathoms fathoms down


Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Realm of Somnus”
by: rob kistner © 3/4/24

*
rob kistner © 2024

Poetry at: dVerse