O h to frolick in the fallen snow
to feel it cruch beneath my feet
to see the glistening whiteness roll
and feel the crisp chill on my cheek
walking in this winter wonderland
it’s damned hard walking in fresh snow
my feet are soaked and totally numb
snowblindness certainly is no joke
and this Bell’s Palsey really is no fun
this winter wasteland is a frozen hell
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
W ritten many pointed comments — yes
and polarizing poetry — indeed
I am not sorry that I wrote them
they’re intended to inspire
if any raised your hackles
it was you who chose to read
and it proves they were effective
if in-fact they stirred your ire
I will not change my viewpoint
my fired words I’ll not walk back
perhaps it’s you who should look inward
why did my thoughts make you upset
no — I’m not retracting anything
what I said must have been on track
so if you’re seeking an apology
that’s one thing you’ll never get
I know that I can be aggressive
perhaps my demeanor frightens you
if so — for that I’m sorry
but not sorry for what I said
I do not intend you bodily harm
that is not what I mean to do
no sticks n’stones to break no bones
just truth’s flame to fire your head
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
P ermit me to share the legend
of the man who rocked the world
luminescent — larger than life
his bold flag of fame unfurled
I was his grateful roadie
he treated me like a brother
the world lost a good one
he was truly like no other
with confidence he stood the stage
flashed his skills with grace and power
his celebrity rocketed skyward
enormous talent, in his finest hour
a humble hard-luck childhood
helped hone his heartfelt dream
a bright young man with wicked “chops”
he could make his guitars scream
his glory spread round the globe
renown and fortune grew unbound
like a rampant roaring wildfire
nothing it seemed would take him down
but terror struck while touring England
unleashing madness, fear, and strife
bombs tore through the concert hall
to save his fans, he risked his life
the first blast ripped the back wall
mike in hand, he stood cool and ready
“please people — don’t run in panic
move quickly — but please move steady”
he stood directing fans to safety
they all escaped — now he was last
as people gathered outside the hall
came the deaf’ning final blast
it was horror in high definition
TV broadcast the heartbreaking sight
a question hung heavy midst the chaos
did their hero meet death tonight
the sad truth was the top news story
the brave mega-star had died
all the world was seen to mourn
at candle vigils his fanbase cried
so permit me to share this legend
of this remarkably brave young man
who — possessed of wealth and fame
truly never forgot the fan
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
P hineas Morton is not a happy guy
that’s not to say he’s sad
he just decided long ago
not to live life on the extremes
so he would describe himself as
well
as centered
Phineas Morton is a centered guy
I’m Mortimore Magee
his best friend
and frequent visitor
Phineas lives
in the abandoned hull
of an old
yellow
school bus
which he’s fixed up to be
”just fine”
he assures
”lotta make-do, bit’a magic”
he was left there
by his parents
when he was 12
as they went off to find
well
“to find happiness”
he bemoans
this situation may also account
for his less than enthusiastic embrace
of the whole concept of happiness
Phineas dreams of
someday doing something
well
”something interesting”
shunning the extreme nature
of great
he is not really interested
in doing something great
interesting will do just fine
Phineas has a girlfriend
well
“sort of a girlfriend”
he says
“more like a girl acquaintance
sounds less all in”
he explains
which suits his centeredness
just fine
her name is Flo
Flo Humpledorf
though she has come to spell it
P-h-l-o
as an expression
of her affinity for Phineas
you know
Phineas and Phlo
well anyway
Phineas wants everyone to know
that while he waits
for his interesting life to begin
he can be found
”out by ole’ Doc Patterson’s pond”
in his shell of a bus
“you’re more than welcome to come by”
he says
just between you and me
if you do
don’t act too happy
if you know what I mean
it doesn’t sit well with the lad
also
if you decide to come by
bring some jelly beans
red jelly beans
why
because I love red jelly beans
and I really am there
a lot!
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
https://youtu.be/bl9bvuAV-Ao
Y esterday is the tear shed
the breath exhaled
the word spoken
the harvest in
today is the voice singing
the raindrops falling
the river flowing
a hand sowing
tomorrow is the unfolding dream
the gold dawn approaching
a new hope’s promise
the planted seed
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers
C arefully I walk this edge
balancing eternally between
my sacred nurturing soul
and my burning hearts’s needs
know I will not be confined
staying always in motion
an eternal ebb and flow
perpetual like the seas
my spirit is amorphous
bathed in the rays of change
expanding unrestrained
seeking purpose and freedom
I will not be defined
my nature is fluid
my essence is turbulent
deep and ever changing
my heart in constant surge
ignores the prevailing winds
seeking balance that is mine
to change at need — at will
you need not seek me
for I am always here
but do not name me
I will not be yours
*
rob kistner © 2021
and yet
the stuff I have
I must ignore
to have the time
to find some more
to stash
what it is I got
so there’ll be nothing
I have not
and when I have
all that there is
I’ll sit back
and say
gee wiz
I’m not certain
this is all
there is
limited space
no way
no way
I can fit more in
today
I may be nuts
or maybe not
but gotta have more
than what I got
I’m on the verge
of losing it
but I believe
more will fit
we’re near full
for sure
for sure
but I can still
fit a bit more
I can always
fit a bit more
though what I have
is gathering dust
and some perhaps
is gathering rust
though the walls
are ‘bout to bust
I’ll stuff in more
because
I must
I simply
must
~across the bridge of truth~
I seek not a kingly right
nor scepter gold to rule a realm
worldly wealth I do not need
love’s enlightenment I seek
Poetry at: dVerse
https://youtu.be/cpPSBzGEklE
~ A live bonus from Pauly! ~
P lease permit me to present two concepts for your consideration. One is time, the other is keeping in the present moment — a place in which we seem relentlessly encouraged, cajoled, even badgered to remain. First of all, time is relative, a fleeting thing, constantly evolving. It is transitory and non-substantive.
So how does one keep in the present moment? As a general definition, “keep” means to hold, or maintain something in your possession or control. A moment is an ever-changing, elusive, arbitrary piece of this relative thing called time. So it would appear, given the ethereal, amorphous nature of time, that one cannot “keep” any aspect of time — one of which being a moment.
Therefore, with time being the core component of a moment, and time unable to be, by definition, “kept”, the logical deduction is that a moment, present or not, is therefore unable to be ‘kept’. Moments are a flow continuum, so ride it mindfully and alert. Besides, in the pursuit of things relative, fleeting, ethereal, and uncertain — love is a far more glorious pursuit than a “present moment”.
Poetry at: dVerse
april’s wine is intoxicating
as winter’s pale heart yearns
to feel spring’s grand unfolding
as nature’s palette slowly turns
this sweet inebriation
of april’s longing soul
can bring forth act’s impulsive
and draw one to the jester’s role
so be wary – for when one’s
caught in this season’s swoon
the better judgements of january
dissolve under april’s moon
the elixir of a world in bloom
is to the lusting lovelorn
a most dangerous of potions
risky randy thoughts are born
so remember and be warned
under passion’s frenzied rule
april can easily make one
act quite the splendid fool
Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers
https://youtu.be/-GdJ_HOjtew
unfortunately
I’ve again awakened
another hard night
now
another shit day
I rise
make my way carefully
moving head down
shufflin’ to the bathroom
to wash my face
it’s reflected sallow
in the yellowed wash
of feeble incandescence
strange tired eyes
hold me in the mirror
broken as my spirit
eyes of knowing
eyes of disappoint
eyes of sadness
the look burns through me
weighing upon my being
I want to scream
but no one’s here to hear me
in this cluttered two-room flat
morning maintenance done
I grab a cold bagel
gather up my stuff
trudge out the front door
down the rickety wood stairs
into the oblivious streets
that echo my strangled dreams
I duck and dodge
in and out
of early morning shadows
past the garbage and graffiti
of these dirty bricken’d canyons
they vibrate with the rush and chaos
of synapse and sinew
the hum of networked urgency
data outdistancing comprehension
can — beyond the reach of — should
monoliths of human avarice
cold and indifferent
clad in stainless
stone
and such
a halogen and neon blaze
they surge with manipulation
and greed
in varying shape and differing size
they flank in concrete corridors
that criss and cross
blink and beep and ring
they buzz and hiss
and stink
thoughts flood in a torrent
souring my head
I’m now rushing
unseeing
seething with anger
and exasperation
when suddenly
I stumble
a crack in the sidewalk
this fuckin’ city!
then I look down
startled
what the hell
a flower
really
no shit!
in that moment
flabbergasted
I unspring my tension
exhaling
I pause
I’ll be damned
caught in a flash
of wonder
I muse
maybe
maybe dreams
actually do survive
somewhere
in this concrete hell-hole
Poetry at: Sunday Muse
This is Seussian Tetrameter…
I am gone this I’m sure
and I doubt there’s a cure
is this joy is this bliss
was that simply a kiss
will I wake I can’t tell
I am under your spell
is this all what it seems
am I lost in my dreams
if it’s true then it’s fine
these sweet dreams are divine
here’s a wish I now make
hope I never awake
*
rob kistner © 2010
More tetrameter poetry at: dVerse
Open Link Night at: dVerse
~ A live bonus from Brandi! ~
while her heart she emotes
it’s her soul she reveals
she brings tears to my eyes
while my logic she steels
speaking truth she stirs hope
shattered dreams so to heal
and she gives of her self
her love rolls like a wheel
she is grit she is style
she is humble and real
she is Brandi Carlile
and she lives her ideals
Hanseroth twins: key to Brandi’s sound & success.
More poetry at: dVerse
…and for a two-song encore…
1.) “Crows Calling at Night” by: Li bai
Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows roosting near.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.
2.) Reinterpretation of “Crows Calling at Night” by: Li bai
Yellow clouds near the walls where crows are roosting.
They are cawing as they fly into gingko tree boughs.
The Qin river girl is creating brocade with her loom.
The emerald yarn is mist like, the window hides her words.
Sadly, she stops the shuttle, and thinks of her far off love.
She is lonely here in her room, her tears just like the rain.
3.) A fully original poem inspired by Li bai’s “Crows Calling at Night”
A Crystal Tear
Sun-gold clouds fade in dimming cerulean
a lone raven’s black eyes stare steadily
loudly cawing, he effortlessly alights
perched in the striking autumn yellow
of the ginkgo’s lovely fanned petals
a lonely woman works in deft rhythm
rich silk gleams taut in her drawloom
she carefully raises the brocade patterns
learned as a child in her Shanxi province
sure hands pull the fine emerald threads
prayer on her lips — she stares far off
a closed window holds fast her whispers
sadly she falls quiet — pauses the shuttle
thinking longingly of her distant lover
wondering — will their lips again touch
she sits alone — unmoving — head turned
a crystal tear falls like a first rain drop
More poetry at: dVerse
his stern face
stern smile
stern voice
stern eyes
hypnotic wink
fired lips
burning kiss
cast her vulnerable
she adores the touch
of his strong stern hands
warm sure hands
so too
she loves his cane
rob kistner © 2010
More poetry at: dVerse