The magical mystery journey to becoming human…
Original DDE™ art: “Becoming” by: rob kistner © 12/15/25
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moonlight softens hard decisions
love whispers through moonbeams
stars glimmer unusually bright
night hums quietly light
I drift between heartbeats
listening for familiar names
letting ego dissolve
and true wisdom evolve
somewhere beyond edges
I hibernate — my joy heightened
until dawn christens me — enlightened
rob kistner © 12/15/25
Run turkey, run!
Original DDE™ art: “No Escape” by: rob kistner © 11/27/25
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turkey puffs its chest
knowing its fortunes — have been in better shape
hoping for the best
looking so well dressed
all while plotting — a dramatic great escape
sides all closing in
cranberries are laughing — giddy as a loon
gravy wears a grin
biscuits leap right in
mashed and stuffing hum a crazy little tune
turkey tries to flee
wishing it could blend in — at least for a while
it can not get free
fate’s made its decree
this poor birdy’s night — will not end with a smile
first he stopped to preen
posing like he’s modeling for fame
glowing bronze and lean
centerpiece-serene
till someone whispers, “Its time to baste again
he denies defeat
while he is tucked tightly in the baking pan
folding in his feet
grumbling, “Ain’t that sweet?”—
fighting to the end — this awkward human plan
the main meal is done
leftovers all are stored — in the fridge their placed
snacking has begun
feel I weigh a ton
turkey’s bowing out — lost to a butter baste
last he lifts his head
and offering just a shrug of dignity
“Make the gravy red,
keep my spices spread”—
I accept my culinary destiny
rob kistner © 11/27/25
Flyin’ without leavin’ the earth ! 
Original DDE™ art: “Road Rocket” by: rob kistner © 11/11/25
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twistin’ the throttle
rocketin’ two-wheeled through the Cascades
rippin’ it west to the Pacific
the 4-stroke’s heartbeat syncs with my own
ahead on my left
I see an opening in the forest
beyond is sunlight
and the sound of something very powerful—
a foundational-movin’-the world kinda power
promising otherworldly adventure
the road ahead forks
giving me options—
journeying deeper into this enchanted wood
or seeking that other promising mystery
in that moment — I am seduced
a raw rolling rhythm carries me onwards
charging towards that woodland heaven’s gate
the rumble of horsepower between my legs
I dive into a lefthand turn
inner knee out and low
just inches above the road
the other tight to the tank
wind screaming past
like laughter from the gods—
and when I rise out of my lean
the light explodes—
sun flashing through conifer branches
like a thousand diamonds
scattered across the day
the road winds — twisted and wild
snaking through mist
moss
old growth
and ancient mountain stone
every bend a thrill
a breath held
then expelled in a heady rush
I feel it in my bones—
that wild whisper of freedom
the bite of cool heady petrichor on my face
the pulse of life
running hot through the veins of the world
bursting out of the trees
through the forest break
the coast throws wide its embrace—
Oregon’s ultimate edge
vast and shimmering
spreads before me
the ocean roars her welcome
along her bouldered shoreline
a silver highway rolling away to infinity
beckons me— come
I downshift — lean into another turn
as down — down
down I roar to the water’s edge
to surf the border between earth and sea
massive chiseled coastal cliffs rise to my left
waves pound to my right
seabirds call to me from on high—
“please please
please come on—
faster — faster…
get that bike up on its pipe
get it rollin’”
I hear them in my head
I hear them on the wind
”I am coming” I whisper to he wind
my promise carried away
every rise — every curve
every gust of salty breeze
feels like diving straight into paradise—
not some faraway dream
but right here
in the thunder of my wheels
my laughter erupts joyously
unbidden from my throat
as the simple — yet profound truth sets me free
the truth that freedom
isn’t somewhere else—
it is right here
it’s this ride itself
this rush tingling my body
singing through my soul
as the sun burns golden
over the restless sea
in this ride through the Cascades
the world opened to me
opened like a living dream
the air trembling with the scent of conifers
the far cry of rivers
as I cut and wound through the ancient—
and now the sea mist
surging upward as the wild surf
slams hard the sea boulders
that are nestled firm in the sand
the result — spray likened to holy water
blessing this amazing adventure
this amazing ongoing journey
the surf roaring approval
the motorcycle growls beneath me
a low steady thumping
a heartbeat
carrying me between worlds
between mountains and clouds
forest and the earth’s far horizon
I’m chasing something I can’t quite name—
not speed
not distance
but release — freedom
what I ultimately catch
is a realization
freedom isn’t a thing found
not a thing given
it’s a thing chosen
in the instant you trust the road
the wheels
the wind
the wildness
in that consuming instant
I reflect on those in this world not free
not able to make that choice
denied access to that crucial pivot point
that life altering opportunity
exhaling gratitude
I put my head down — my teary eyes up
as onward I roll
leaning into the curves
rob kistner © 11/11/25
Here I trod this old stone road
observing the evidence of last night’s rain
gorging this oft’ dry viaduct
some nestled in these path-side ruts
resting before their homeward journey
when they’ll rejoin their rightful place
as part of earth’s life-giving waters
returning as part of the restorative cycle
evaporating — misting skyward
penetrating the thirsty earth
or running off to join a river or stream
they are tenacious, persistent
always seeking their natural way
they’ll break beyond these futile bounds
returning to their origin – the azure sea
these are ever the wiles and ways of water
*
rob kistner © 7/11/23
Poetry at: dVerse
each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
deep in this ancient forest
enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I’ve ringed a portion
of the cerulean mountain lake
my crooked walking stick
smooth in my right hand
rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
dappled emerald in scattered sunlight
I crest a knoll
by the restless azure brook
and stop
mesmerized
as before
I have reached my wonderland
filtered by the towering woodland canopy
light drifts down dreamlike
settles golden
into the natural cathedral before me
were it a manmade cathedral
or a grande ballroom
truly gorgeous
might describe it
but this is so much more
breathtaking
falls short
even magnificent
feels wanting
a cool lake breeze
enfolds me
filled with the heady scent
of the living earth
cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
fern
bark
loam
wildflower
ionized mountain air
intoxicated
I grow very still
listening
breathing
I become this moment
rapt
in touch with my soul
with the eternal
I’m transcendent
this is — paradise
This is the natural gateway on Trail #656 opening on the old growth stand.
Both well over 200 feet tall, and hundreds of years old.
1/2 mile ahead you leave the path, wandering into the heart of the giants!
mighty sentinels
guardians of the old growth
may ever you stand
rob kistner © 2020
First 2 of my 3 words are imbedded, in order, in poem. 3rd word: swanky
This poem was inspired by a suggestion from Andy Sewina, aka SweetTalking Guy. This is a very brief flash fiction written in three American Sentences, a poetic form conceived by Allen Ginsberg.
~
jack and Neal on the road
were rape’n their angst
in carnal combustion
allen was howl’n
pal’n with corso
but still white-hot for peter
hunter was fearful
loathing it all
as bohemia went tie-dye
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2009
•
“Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, every day of life is a lesson”
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
This poem is offered in response to prompt #23 for 2010 at Writer’s Island,
the Ginsberg ‘american sentence’ is offered in response to prompt #136 at One Single Impression.
To Soar
•
to feel the warmth of early spring sun
to wander through old growth
to see the sunset into the pacific
to breath in the fragrance of summer
to see joy in another’s eyes
to hear my child’s laughter
to be breath-taken by art
to be dazzled by autumn’s palette
to taste the richness of chocolate
to immerse in the rhythms of music
to see the morning dew sparkle
to hear the sweet lilt of a thrush
to know the quiet of snowfall
to raise my voice in song
to drift on a clear mountain lake
to get lost in poetry
to feel your gentle touch
• • •
to just try to fly is to fall short, one must expect to soar, then leap
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
seven years of libertine wandering captured on a hand-made scroll
an american sentence inspired by read write poem #53, found at “readwritepoem”.