Your perfect lips
soft as whispered love
sweet and rich
as heated cognac
your hypnotic eyes
deep as a wind still sea
warm and seductive
as a tropic midnight
your heady kiss
unlocks my soul
opens to you
my disarmed heart
look now upon
my unfathomed love
see
I surrender fully
now and ever
I am yours
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Standing solid
I bend my back
squat
then straighten at the waist
hunkered ‘neath the weight
I lift clean the load
the warehouseman’s refrain
always on my mind
(back straight
lift with the legs)
the first test — no result
I try a second
then a third
on and on
day after day
long hours in the lab
the formula must be perfect
only perfect will save lives
drywall must be flush
and plumb
also square and seamless
meticulously
I set each sheet
with the level and the bob
then pause
to wipe my sweating brow
I curse my keyboard
do battle with fatigue
I coax the vision
to commit to screen
the first draft of my design
to then modify
and refine
until — the ultimate creation
I check the temperature
conduct the screening
evaluate the results
then make the diagnosis
without delay or self-concern
I begin the treatment
in timely manner
to save a life
wearing tight my mask
I count the stock
disinfect the shelves
gather the inventory
place the goods
then squelching my fear
help customers check out
knowing in this time of crisis
people must have what they need
these — and countless others
elements of the work I do
or did
or may yet do
and I am you
and you are me
and we are all together
in this constant labor
for our daily bread
but – this is not our true work
to bend to lift someone in need
to help carry their burden
until they again stand steady
to bend to pick & toss the litter
that clutters our land masses
chokes our seas with plastics
to seek the components of peace
to formulate the dialog
that fosters understanding
to measure well my tolerance
to stand squarely flush
with truth and level justice
to look into the eyes
of someone very different
and see with care — not hate
to admit my mistakes
to quietly listen
to try again to get it right
to visualize a free world
to create enduring possibility
for universal love
this — is the true work
the true care to keep
in the great hands final sweep
‘round the face of time
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
I’ve always liked these exposed filament lights
hanging at random heights and space at Amelia’s
boldly here in Am’s front window — for all to see
reminded me of the diversity of her customers
each reasonably transparent with our agendas
each brightly afire with a burning love of jazz
she says it makes the place warm and friendly
their off-white glow, leaning a bit to golden
casts a comfortable friendly ambiance — welcoming
the conversation hovers in trend-topical bursts
hot yet quietly — controlled to a respectful degree
the jazz is cool, but crisp with an edge of freedom
we sizzle mellow, trippin’ on brilliant blistered riffs
no matter the season, the burn of the ringin’ bellhorns
keep us hypnotized and synchronized — snap-ap-ap’n
Amelia’s is a tuesday night paradise — angels a’plenty
and a dolla’ getcha a three-side of Am’s miracle ribs
smoke, sauce, ‘n slaw — nuff ta make a heathen love jesus
we, the helplessly hopeless menagerie of jazz junkies
dig the vibe that goes down every buck’a’shot tuesday
and these cats can play — keeps these hang-bulbs rattlin’
Amelia’s is tuesday night church, and the hip souls worship
I shake/swear/stomp/sweat — then leave sanctified in joy
these random bulbs in Amelia’s window know all my sins
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: Earthweal
b’day 2/18/47
Spent my 18th birthday
at Newport KY’s Flamingo Club
playin’ blue-eye’d soul
into the early mornin’
final set over at 4:00 am
we smuggled single malt
into the all night grill
for the crusty sunrise special
bliss’d out from giggin’
bleary-eyed and blasted
we’re mixin’ with fellow players
from other early AM clubs
among willing groupies
and loud hangers on
all sittin’ and chattin’
a family of the night
steel-heart working girls
soul-bruised painted strippers
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
we’re huddled and hidin’
from those cruel first rays
ready to scurry off
to our well-curtained rooms
it’s time to score
whatever gets us through
‘till sundown next
strikes up the band again
but right now the jukebox
volume up to the ceilin’
is blastin’ out the #1
You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’
many noddin’ — YES
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
“…a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping…”
— Paul Simon
Here I lean upon my open hands, warm against my temple, elbows locked solid on my cluttered desk. My eyes, aflame with spoiled sleep, stare into the void. My skull is heavy on my finger bones, weighted by indecision, as procrastination presses down.
Oh fickle muse, fickle muse — where the hell art thou muse! Damnit, I seek your inspiration, to at last be moved by you. Instead, the hum of my desk fan drones relentlessly in my ears — impossible to ignore, no matter how I try. This writer’s block be cursed, I will not wear it like an itching skin!
My thoughts, like digits on a dollar slot, spin unfocused in my mind. they neither click nor lock in place. They just tumble in a jumble, rolling in a blur — indecipherable! Lost in this mental fog, I’m sunken in my writer’s chair, immobile. I am paralyzed by perplexity, imprisoned by the chaos awhirl in my mind. The freedom of decision I fear this night will not be mine
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
The old place has lost its luster
but the memories still hold their glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
kept me safe and warm so long ago
the mornings were a bustling din
dad off to work and me late for school
but together at evenin’ dinner table
clean hands’n face — as was the rule
then dad and I tinkered in his workshop
as mom and baby bro’ would play
then round the hearth to sooth our bones
all sharin’ stories about our day
now off to bed in clean pajamas
a bedtime tale to make us thrill
wrapped in blankets of our family’s love
to keep us warm against night’s chill
wonderful dreams, seldom a nightmare
we all slept tight — safe ‘n sound
though the world was having troubles
at our home they nev’r came around
yes — the old place has lost its luster
but every memory still holds a glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
that kept me safe and warm so long ago
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
https://youtu.be/tTKp1RHuyoQ
Beauty in this world is fleeting
but as long as my warm heart is beating
it’s for love’s bliss I am entreating
you have set my longing heart afire
you burn in my midnight desire
sweet erotic dreams you inspire
my lustful soul is overheating
if I could wrap my arms around you
such intoxicating things we’d do
dreams of passion would be made true
my frail restraint is fast depleting
a temptress in a velvet glove
your touch I’d never tire of
a smoldering heat of forbidden love
these carnal visions keep repeating
I crave your lips I want you now
we must join together now somehow
I’ll taste your wild love — this I vow
from this wanton quest there’s no retreating
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
https://youtu.be/MSbgsWH1O_E
most especially
I will never forget
that perfect june morning
we trekked deep
into that ancient wood
to our favorite spot
— our secret clearing
the morning sun
filtered softly
through the canopy
drifting down golden
into our sacred space
setting your handsome face
aglow with an angel’s radiance
a breeze rustled the treetops
whispering of eternity
casting a magic spell
awed by the splendor
we talked long and quietly
leaning on the downed Douglas
that slumbers there in repose
perhaps for centuries
peaceful in its earthen bed
you were eighteen
off to college soon
so very excited
as certainly was I
I was so in awe of you
my brilliant beautiful son
in that instant
time suspended
life aligned
for a perfect moment
for a perfect memory
my very last of you
three weeks later
you were tragically killed
this precious memory
lingers here at peace
under this forest canopy
in our clearing
where my heart still journeys
to talk with you.
you left in your summer years
I will leave in my winter
our clearing awaits patiently
quiet – save the echoed laughter
of a father and son
in love with the forest
in love with life
in love with each other
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal
You look so sweet
so very inviting
so intoxicatingly tempting
fixated
my mind lingers
drawn by your beauty
lost in lustful attraction
hopelessly compelled
I abandon restraint
to bring my mouth
warm upon you
ever tenderly
but hungrily
urgently
fully
feeling you soft
and smooth
upon my searching lips
I bite you
gently
feeling your flesh
firm on my teeth
your juices glisten
trickle
dripping
from my trembling lips
your taste
earthen rich
tantalizingly tart
my tongue tingles
with luscious delight
your succulence
like love’s nectar
floods my mouth
captive to sinful excess
I devour
shamelessly
such sensuous pleasure
my sweet black cherries!
*
rob kistner © 2021
~ nothing quite as delicious as fresh-picked Oregon black cherries ~
Poetry at: dVerse
This video has nada to do with this poem, it’s just I really like it,
and Lindsey Stirling & ZZ Ward are my two current Queens of Music
— though Oregon black cherries do hold my heart!
Lindsey Stirling — violinist & modern dancer
Enchanted — I’m drawn to linger
to watch your magic fingers
dancing your taut strings
they resonate my soul
your bow glides
your eyes close
your hips roll
you float sensually ‘cross the floor
on wings, my passion soars
my hungry spirit longs for more
*
ridley lawrence tieke a/k/a rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Creative writing at: Poets & Storytellers
Raise the carafe with care
pour forth freely
to drink deeply
this wine of friendship
aged to a vintage true
may it linger long
to sweeten your dreams
lighten your burden
warm your heart
and lift your spirit
may serenity be always yours…
salut!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Born of chaos
lacking heritage
void of order
year upon year
a freefall of frustration
searching for foothold
moment man
longing for clarity
for a sense of belonging
stopping is no option
to lose the way
is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one atrophies
grows rigid
with the rigor mortis
of apathy
stiff
with unbending ignorance
faltering in fear
paralyzed
gawking inward
at hopelessness
at failure
the giving in
the giving up
the rot
that sets in
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go
of dreams
of possibility
arthritic loss of faith
debilitates the soul
cripples
the manifest light
that shines forth
at the leap
into darkness
into uncertainty
into the sacred unknown
frozen is the cautious man
withered in a worried cage
not unlike the moment man
terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way
unmarked
and thus
bleeds out
the color of life
of living
to become cold
and grey
a putrefied husk
of brittled remorse
mired in regret
for never having
shone so brightly
as to blind
the eyes of death
stopping is no option
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
Standing at the morning window
I watch 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 labyrinth
of clutter and gutter
in search of mother sea
this day begins golden and crisp
bird songs echo empty sunrise streets
I sit by this sun-filled window
with chai tea and curiosity
quietly serenaded
by the flocking feathered choir
and by the mourning news
prattling on the big screen
my ipad next to me
I peck at it periodically
attempting to write
I glimpse the tv sporadically
growing troubled by the broadcast
our continuing human plight
we can’t seem to get it right
amazing how we just never learn
when the answers seem so clear
but our egos are so dear
that neither side can hear
what the other side is saying
so everyone keeps playing
these apocalyptic games
keep it up — the world will burn
why do we
blindly and so stubbornly
choose to initiate and navigate
this labyrinth of insanity
repeating these same antics endlessly
nothing will be changed
just the same picture rearranged
as round’n’round we stumble
“we’re seeking peace”
said in a mumble
feigning wanting to get out
when in fact we just stay in
then right back around again
my patience is growing thin
round’n’round’n’round we go
caught in our ignorance
trapped by our arrogance
gambling with our existence
addicted to the maze
we never leave
this labyrinth of greed and deception
in this moment
the tv drones
my frustration rises
reality grips
my spirit slips
my mind drifts
lifting on the vapor ribbons
wafting from my steaming cup
no longer looking up
I just stare
distracted
the news anchor looks absurd
the lips continue sculpting words
but not a single one I’ve heard
deaf to what’s being said
I’m deep into my thoughts instead
imagining how different it would be
if love and logic ruled this labyrinthic world
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry Inspired by Ecological Change: Earthweal
“Folding Time” by: rob kistner
As turns a minute to an hour
and an hour to a lifetime
lived mindfull and well invested
as turns the blossom to the pulp
that hangs sweetly in the orchard
ready to be tasted
as turns a breath into a tone
that turns that tone into a song
upon the singer’s lips
as turns a step into a mile
and a mile into a journey
back to a cherished one
as turns a reach into a hug
that wraps gently around the shoulders
of someone lost in grief
as turns a grin into a smile
and a smile to healing laughter
on the face of someone lonely
as turns a thought to imagination
and imagination into a vision
in a child’s fertile mind
as turns a seedling to a sapling
and that sapling to a tree
giving breath of life to this earth
as turns awareness to intention
and intention into an action
that makes a difference in this world
so too time has turned my heart
into a cresting wave
that breaks upon and sweeps the world
deep into the ocean of my love
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
~ I offer this song in peace & awareness of the eternal energy that is existence ~
“I would rather have a mind opened by wonder
than one closed by belief.”
— Gerry Spence
Like a flash of startling color
in a mystical midnight dream
butterflies just materialize
from out of nowhere it would seem
like fragile fleeting fairies
from a mysterious magical source
they flit and flutter dazzlingly
such a breathtaking tour de force
so frail and so diaphanous
such bold and brilliant wings
silently they float on air
enchantingly beautiful things
they dart with such abandon
they dance more than they fly
so weightless — so very joyous
a wondrous ballet in the sky
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse