Limitless
•
• written for Writer’s Island
Category: art
Equinox
Equinox
•
winter’s journey ends
lengthening light bears witness
spring crests and breaks
here at the equinox
life bursts forth
poking through pliant soil
unfurling on barren branch
here at the equinox
nature stirs in song and call
celebrating new birth
sustaining the cycle
here at the equinox
my heart leaps
my spirit dances
to this rhythm of renewal
here at the equinox
• • •
rob kistner © 3/20/11
Moonfall
…I might find it interesting to believe that we are not alone in this universe within universes. I believe ‘others’ are observing us, and are concerned by our behavior. Called many things through the ages, such as “travelers”, “those that are”, “angles”, among others: I believe they have been here, and perhaps some of us have been there. As adults most of us grow suspicious, skeptical, closed, and therefore unreceptive, potentially even dangerous — so these ‘others’ make their presence known only to the pure of heart, who still possess their sense of wonder. They come in dreams, visions, and apparitions.
Centuries and millenniums ago, when the world was less devastatingly violent, they visited more often. Graphic and oral evidence of their visitations are found in every culture. These ‘miraculous’ events, misunderstood by less sophisticated early humans, became the ‘seeds’ of the world’s current religions.
These ‘others’ seek to know us but they are frightened by our growing self-directed global hatred and paranoia — especially now fueled by our many technologies of death and destruction. They now consider us unapproachable. I’m not certain when or how large-scale contact will be made, but it will eventually happen — in spite of the ‘if-or-not’ of alien abduction and probing.
Inherently we humans have come to know, but not fully comprehend, the essence of this reality of impending contact. Through the distorted lense of fractured history and our fear, I believe we have, over time, come to call this ultimate contact by many names, some positive, some negative; names such as the rapture, apocalypse, end of days, armageddon, and the like. Though we perhaps misinterpret the nature of this amazing future event — contact is coming. This I might believe, if I could believe anything. In that spirit I wrote and offer this sci-fi poem…
•
the dual suns
still crisp and bright
warm me as I journey
painting the strange landscape in vivid presence
this alien world
startling
yet fascinating
I embarked at midday’s solar convergence
senses alive and alert
consumed by the thrill of exploration
heady with anticipation of discovery
I believed today I would make contact
I would connect
but it is day’s end
moonfall descends upon this severe terrain
early shadows fall across my face
a veiled foreboding settles upon me
there are many shadows here
other shadows
odd shadows
disturbing specters
that disrupt my nights
disquiet my soul
steal my peace
they come unannounced
almost imperceptible
but no time for worry
there is still far to go
I am eager to move
drawn by the need to reach my ship
to reach safety
yet here I stand
momentarily motionless
immobile with dread
yet captivated by the haunting beauty
that is this planet’s rising moon
a translucent blue fractal orb
ever changing
mesmerizing
I shudder and sober
turn into the evening breeze
and venture onward
immersed in rolling amber and coral
spread glorious to the horizons
of this foreign world
receding with the setting suns
again the shadows shift
dull confusion finds me
I lose my pace
draw up in momentary halt
nagging concern engulfs me
panic pierces my solace
bewilderment grips me
unwelcome
it holds me
uncomfortable in my skin
these feelings sweep over me
clouding briefly my purpose
obscuring my destination
then they waft
I see across the darkening valley
my shuttle craft
my safety
urgently I proceed
but again my mind fogs
I wander
and once more lose focus
an eerie mist settles like a shroud
moonfall is coming
coming much too quickly
moonfall
the frightening night noises
unsettling dreams
mounting alarm
I believe I am in trouble
a sense of peril gnaws
builds
paralyzing fear
fear I will not make it back
before these suns go dark
I am afraid to lose this light
afraid to loose my way
afraid
so afraid
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
…discover what others believe and don’t believe at readwritepoem…
Masquerade
Masquerade
•
when donned the mask
the transformation
smoulders forth
the other
the fantasy
of your desire
carnal fire
on wings of dreams
she is she
and too
the other
unleashed at light
of passion’s moon
a masquerade
to ignite your soul
manifest at your request
sustained this night
at her delight
she is isis
she is venus
she is your every longing
loosed
to bring you every pleasure
she is everything
and all of this
bestowed
with aphrodite’s kiss
as you burn
remember this
beneath the mask
your real bliss
• • •
Emerge In Grace
and by prompt #139 at One Single Impression.
•
go down in trial
endure the tribulation
emerge rapt in grace
steeled by the tempering fire
molten molded pure and strong
• • •
To Soar
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
…is to soar
• • •
to just try to fly is to fall short, one must expect to soar, then leap
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Ripples
and by prompt #134 at One Single Impression.
•
memories of you
ripples on a mirrored lake
rise and drift gently
into the golden sunlight
carrying me on their crest
• • •
Joie de Vivre
•
clear blue summer sky
deep azure crystalline lake
cool breeze on my face
fresh scent of water lilies
ripples gently lap the boat
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Believe
and in response to the visual prompt Mag 23 at Magpie Tales seen at bottom of post.
• image entitled “Weary” – colorized, digitally rendered by: rob kistner 2010
•
I’d like to make myself believe
the dream I dreamt as a young man
that we can change the world’s heart
to embrace love for one another
I’d like to make myself believe
people are by nature good
that we can live in peace
and make the world a better place
I’d like to make myself believe
universal understanding
is a common goal
of the peoples of this planet
I’d like to make myself believe
we haven’t lost our faith
in these sacrosanct ideals
of an elevated life
I’d like to make myself believe
there still exists somewhere
a shared and nurtured vision
of a paradise on earth
I’d like to make myself believe
but empty runs the hourglass
again I’ve heard the daily news
and I’m so weary, and brokenhearted
yes, I’d like to make myself believe
I’d like to, really like to
but sometimes now I even wonder
if anyone ever truly did
• • •
_________________
Time Running Out
•
once demure discourse
now rhetoric to offend
volatile neighbors
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
• haiku above also offered for the visual prompt Mag 23 at Magpie Tales,
and the September 15th prompt at Three Word Wednesday.
Mag 23
Bit ‘O Whimsy
•
One misty moisty morning
The mist was most prevailing
And then it started storming
On that misty moisty morning
It came up without a warning
hailstones began to hailing
And I missed the morning mailing
On that misty moisty morn
Though I mostly miss the morning mail
That morn I felt mostly forlorn
I had to catch the mail that morn
But by 10 minutes I was trailing
So I began to flailing
Down the lane my feet were sailing
But the mailman was ailing
And hadn’t made his morning mail
So on that misty moisty morning
In a storm that had no warning
When I should have been emailing
My mail and me got mostly soaked
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Mother-less
(bastard’s lament)
•
undesired
discarded
thrown away
though whole
sound
and useful
no matter
labeled mistake
misbegotten
unfortunate
shown the back
outside
looking in
left behind
alone
by the side
of life’s road
to endure
the harsh weather
of abandonment
tried
convicted
sentenced for life
to suffer confusion
shame
the sorrow
of the unwanted
condemned
guilty only
of the crime
of inconvenience
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
You & Me
and prompt #18 at We Write Poems,
also the September 6th prompt at Big Tent Poetry,
and the September 8th prompt at Three Word Wednesday…
(a poetic quadratych)
•
The Secret
what I said was
don’t touch
go away
leave me be
while inside
I cried out
draw near
stay with me
you are light
you are pure
you are joy
you are free
I am not
I am dark
I am beast
can’t you see
without you
there is much
you don’t know
about me
The Revelation
I lived at the light’s edge
that pooled in the night
on the bleak back streets
of the sad brokenhearted
I hid in the anguish
of the loveless who cowered
in the dark nightmare alleys
of the lost and forgotten
I fed on the grief
of the mourners who wailed
for their horrific loss
in the ruins of death
this was my heartscape
black as mid-winter night
a lightless horizon
no glimmer of hope
trusting was toxic
no foothold for love
relations were carnage
scattered lifeless and cold
The Change
’til a beautiful being
eyes brilliant and true
approached from afar
bearing tinder of love
the graceful arrangement
was deftly ignited
and patiently tended
the fire gently stoked
afraid to come forward
I held outside the glow
but your kindness drew me
we stood by the blaze
with passion it roared
its light pierced my blackness
its heat thawed my soul
my cold heart was warmed
The Miracle
you wrapped yourself ‘round me
gazed into my eyes
your kiss soft and serene
was the essence of healing
with you in my life
I am darkness removed
soaring and weightless
radiant and rising
vital and caring
my spirit’s renewed
illuminated wholly
by a new dawn of dreams
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
For No One
and prompt #69 at Carry On Tuesday,
also the September 1st prompt at Three Word Wednesday…
•
to which I tight step
pulses
in my heart
alone
it is my coursing vital
stirs my spirit
steels my resolve
drives me on
into the fray
emboldened
“to thine own selfâ€
resonates
the chambers
of my soul
sweet
as the song
of angels
if one is not
author
of the life
one lives
it is
plagiarized
and its essence
forged
it is my pen
scribes my epitaph
the spark
must be authentic
or the fire
arson
the flame
that burns within
is mine
do not expect
I will ignite
for you
or blaze
to your vision
you are not
my flint
do not attempt
to chart
my course
I search
my own
horizon
do not
contain me
I live
outside
do not
seek me
on the surface
I break deep
below
the negative
do not
summon me
to your queue
yours is not
my grid
or file
you are not
my piper
this
I know
I stand in line
for no one
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
True Work
______________
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I had this incomplete 3-year-old draft of my poem “True Work” (loosely inspired by Gary Snyder’s “Real Work”). I had wanted, for some time, to edit it into a piece, with which I would be more satisfied. The above listed prompt inspired me to create a suite of poetry, threaded together by the phrase: true work. My focus for this suite being humanity, which was the crux of the “True Work” draft I already had. The digital rendering I created of the hand holding the world helped me finish my vision of this poetry suite.
I bend my back and 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 the clay
do battle with fatigue
I coax my muse
to commit to form
the first draft of my vision
to then modify
and remold
until the ultimate creation
these are 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 endeavor of our daily life
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 seek the components of peace
to formulate the dialog
that fosters understanding
to measure well tolerance
to stand squarely flush
with truth and level justice
to visualize universal love
to create the enduring model
for a free and vital world
this — is our true work
so little done
so much to do
* * *
If Only
____
stressed beyond limits
earth’s fragile balance falters
but this can be changed
her future is in our hands
if only we do true work
* * *
Endeavor
____
abstain from false pride
prayer does not a halo make
that requires true work
____
rob kistner © 2010
* photorendering above entitled “In Our Hands”
by: rob kistner © 2010
Old Man’s Prayer
and visual prompt Mag 27 at Magpie Tales (see image at bottom),
also offered for prompt 129 at One Single Impression,
and for prompt 228 at Sunday Scribblings….
•
the grind became my home
and I a conduit of worry
could I keep the crazy pace
years spun wild as a top
around faster ever faster
life layering its patina
etched deeply in my face
suddenly no longer young
now looking back from 63
I’ve known triumph I’ve known tragedy
they’ve marked me both the same
I’ve borrowed bought and sold
strayed through several shades of grey
but have I leveraged my soul
just to play the fleeting game
I pray I will not be an old man
gazing lonely out my window
trying to remember
exactly how long it has rained
not sitting silent by the fire
lost in contemplation
wondering if all I lost
was worth what it was I gained
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Mag 27
Machine Mind
the August 9th prompt at Big Tent Poetry,
the August 11th prompt at Three Word Wednesday,
and prompt #65 at Carry On Tuesday.
they didn’t stop to think if they should…”
Dr. Ian Malcolm
•
you wink awake at morning’s light
beckoning me to focused task
prompting me of promise
you collaborate
in my keeping touch
in work dispatched
in thoughts transcribed
in matters pure creative
you are my portal into virtual space
to probe mysteries
the vast unknown
the tool I wield
to unearth facts
dig the dirt
to search for truth
tightly spun
within the web
you tend my life
make all cogs turn
my instrument of whim
device of my distraction
are you my submissive
or master of my will
when you’ve surpassed my vision
will you serve me still
have I the power to shut you down
turn my back
walk away
to truly let you keep
in the deep subconscious
does your machine mind
really sleep
• • •
TechReGret
(a lighthearted tanka)
•
my laptop’s frozen
and my cell phone’s out of range
it’s at these times when
I think how life used to be
hand-written letters have soul
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
IN CLOSING: We live a in a world immersed, if not drowning, in technology. The idealistic and naive early vision was to create technology to serve us, make life easier, less complicated – but the joke is on us. We now serve the technology, and life is more complicated — traveling at a pace we struggle to keep up with. We’ve leveraged our peace of mind in the misguided pursuit of leisure. Is there a remedy? If we do not open a global dialog focused at finding ‘balance’, the situation will, I believe, resolve itself – and the world will not like, and may not survive, the ultimate solution.
As James Martin, one of our great modern thinkers and author of the “The Meaning of the 21st Century” points out in his most optimistic and uplifting book, man stands on the threshold of either the greatest era in human history, or the end of life as we know it – the outcome rests in our hands.
I wrote an essay back in 2007 which deals with humankind’s strange relationship with the technology we’ve created. You can click here if you would like to read it. …rob