This Night

As you read this Christmas poem, with its taste of bittersweetness, see it not in a dark light — embrace it as a tale of a long-awaited journey, to be with the one beloved.


digital collage entitled: “Christmas Tear” – by: rob kistner © 2011

 

B rushed my shoulder on this morning’s train
then while in line to get my breakfast tea
at the market it was there again
from our favorite table it beckoned me

in the crowd at the festive mall
glimpsed like a flicker of candle light
I swear I saw it fleeting fall
upon the gifts I did not wrap this night

upon the tree I did not decorate
the greeting cards I did not write
in frail voice I chastise fate
singing carols doesn’t feel right

I see it there in every aisle
the shadow of your love
elusive as a shopper’s smile
caught up in the crush and shove

it returns this night each year
the same night you went away
in dreams you kiss away each tear
touch my lips that beg you stay

but this year I’ll not awaken blue
in the end an easy thing to do
I’ll make our lover’s dreams come true
this midnight deep I come to you

*
initial draft: rob kistner © 2011
2nd & current update: rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

This poem originally posted 2011: at Magpie Tales

 

Lightless

Fictional poem about losing a loved one to the dark of frozen winter.

 
M oonlight
keeps early dark at bay
pressing in

night wind stirs
mocking breath of life
now lost
to lightless realm
beyond the winter chill
encircling me

no emotion
save grief

I cannot look
at broken stair
where rail eluded
grasping hand
as ankle bent
on december frost

held kindling fell
apple basket spilled

no voice came
to futile cry

those tender lips
will not know again
sweet fruit
nor breath of life

nor love

moon caresses
gentle form
now still

her light gone out
blackness presses in

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 

When The Trees Die

 

T he landscape
losing its gild
mottles
in gunmetal grays
long gone greens
bare blacked sterling

nothing for the eye to swoon
nor in which
the soul to find solace

the poet’s words of warning
had fallen for years
on deaf ears
now nothing
to inspire grand verse

just barren rolling regret
stripped of lush mystery
color drained
jagged n’poisonous

fractured storm clouds
laced with the toxins
of human excess
and lethal impatience
churn ominously
in huddling menace

brightened breezes
that in the once-time
sizzled in the aspens
rolled the conifers
in velvet undulation
rattled the oaken forests

build and bulge
buffeted into angry fronts
seethingly murderous
faced with nothing
to stem the rage
nor to buffer
or discourage
the thrashing fury

howl and growl
into brittling winds
strafing gales
razing tempests

hollowed trunks
like spindled husks
ripped mercilessly from the earth

this world
that’s tumbling towards nothingness
is parched dust-blown emptiness
achingly void

my heart
shudders for the deep chill
of shadow
mourning eden’s devastation

scorching sun
pierces the dirt-broiling stir
that bites and stings
stumbling along dry cracked terrain

blurring watery eyes
chafing coarsen’d skin
that scalds and blisters

would that it rain
drown the lands
that I might
turn my face to the sky
flood my wooden mouth
charred by hunger
with drenching waters
of suspended thirst

to douse the cruel fire
of my spirit
that longs for
the whisper of winds
in canopies high above
now long forgotten

longs for the plush
of a high-mountain meadow
now scattered in tumbling debris
crying in cruel winds

never
never will it happen

ignorant words
which should never have been spoken
our covenant with nature
was badly broken

much too late
we realized the arrogance
of belief
that lacked intention
of assumption
that lacked conviction

as through tears
we watched our trees
slowly die

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: earthweal

 



Devouring

 

A uburn mane with sable streaks
tips frosted ermine — lush with pride
a bounce and whip, and sultry snap
with each stiletto’d wanton stride

taut hips roll high on slender stems
that part in ripples then enmesh
a brushing sigh of stirring heat
toned thighs gliding flesh on flesh

a stare of comely crystal blue
penetrates above a ruby pout
that takes you in devouring
has its way, then casts you out

tongue tip teases top lip’s edge
like supple paintbrush flowing
a smile to burn and hypnotize
that wraps around you knowing

if she’s near you can’t think straight
your brain goes dizzy — all off course
make no mistake she’s the reason why
the wild disturbance in your force

her beauty like a sensuous song
when she’s near — music’s playing
beware your heart not sing along
or soon your on your knees n’praying

luscious wench — worldly wise
sleek as steel — tall and strong
swift and cunning — motor running
she might acquiesce, but not for long

poor fool who tastes this lusciousness
is quite hopelessly addicted
there’s only one word for this life-force
that word, my friend, is — wicked!

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 



Christmas Mix

This poem is composed of song titles and/or lyrics from 25 musical artists.
Their names are at the bottom of this post.

 

R eally not a fan
of winter things

I get the cold weather blues
badly

when it’s cold
I’d like to die

or maybe
if I had a river
I could skate away on
I could feel better

but with my luck
I’d probably fall in
and be trapped under ice

oh yeah —
and a long december
forget it

all through the frozen nights
I hear the hounds of winter
and their blood curdling howling

next morning
their footprints in the snow
only serve to remind me
we’re trapped
soon to be snowbound
in the bleak midwinter

I get so depressed
it’s usually a blue christmas

but maybe
if we make it through december
I can let it go

after all
I’ve got my love
to keep me warm
for a cozy little christmas

and the snowfall
is beautiful and —
I believe in father christmas

perhaps this year
it can actually be
a wonderful christmastime

so let the bells ring-out
for christmas now
at the closing of the year

I think I’ll make it
a very merry christmas
and a happy new year

let’s hope it’s a good one
without any fear

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers

Poetry at: earthweal

 


 
* 25 musical artists whose song titles and/or lyrics featured in this poem
~
Counting Crows
Queen
The Moody Blues
Muddy Waters
Bill Monroe
Merle Haggard
Billie Holiday
Idina Menzel
Sting
Metallica
Moby
Ariana Grande
Joni Mitchell
Paul McCartney
John Lennon
Manhattan Transfer
Donald Fagan
Hans Zimmer
Greg Lake
Toys Chorus
Katy Perry
James Taylor
Wendy & Lisa
Seal
Elvis

Breaching

 
Half full — your attitude resonates, ringing reverberant in my melancholy. Half empty has always been my perspective. Finding safety in my hollow, reluctant solitude. Seeing the world refracted through my somber pessimism. An abandoned dream can no longer disappoint. A shattered heart can no longer break. There is nothing to lose, for one who is without. Pain avoided by deflection.

But were your love to flood my isolation, to drown me in passion, I might gladly risk it all once more. Swimming up naively to the light, to the warmth — breaching the surface, buoyant with bliss, drenched with desire. To reach above water, in the throes of ecstasy, to encircle your gentle face in a lover’s trembling hands. To breath out of water again, drawing love’s rejuvenating breath.

But no! In the tender gray, I swim undisturbed, below the surface — in secluded, sorrowful safety.

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 





The Veiled Hands

This is not an entreaty to a primitive species,
this is an urgent plea to our modern world.

 

A dense fog
of time forgotten
rolled heavy
‘cross the lands
in the shaman’s vision

a deep chill
thick with memory
with calculation
lay at the heart

while envisioned here
on this earthen orb
the voices of our ancestors
…of the bright days
now gone past…
rose in warning
with the night fires

a sacred chant
in richen’d voice
as the flames roared

and they gathered
and danced
to a hallowed blaze
of enlightenment

warming all present
with their knowledge
did these ancestors
— our ancestors

but the footsteps
are but faint echos
while the sacred fire
is dying

its embers
now near ashen

but still
there are hearts
that burn

he saw
in a world out of balance
those yet ablaze
will again
stir to flame
their smoldering wisdom
and dance the steps
of knowledge

the twilight of fear
will recede

the moonlight
of vision and magic
will shoulder its way
through the shrouded silence

the dawn
of now veiled vision
will unfold bold
to proclaim
the truth

the chant
of the faces
gnarled and twisted
with abuse and contempt

muffled deep
within a wooded reach

will nurture and ignite
an imperceptible drone
of enraged voices
that will rise to a ruckus
wild and primal

a dark entangled chant
of a dreadful retaliation
is even now
rising above
the chaos of cacophony

a disembodied presence
sharp and omnipresent
speaks —

this night
you will experience
memories of glory
memories of beauty
memories of strength
memories of the homeland
memories of your proud people

powerful memories
sacred memories
of bles’sed miracles
conjured by strong
deft hands

these memories
were left here
with the threatened trees
in the fragile soil
to now incandesce

left here with the land
with your blood
by your ancestors

the gnarled shape
of leaf-dead trees
with their spindly
spiked branches
thrust skyward


twisted and bent
in a tangle of prophecy
listen — as nature speaks

so
reaching to the daybreak —
embrace these memories
these truths

in these there is power
— but go further still

lift your dreams
in a united vision

elevate your minds
to know
to realize begotten knowledge
to realize your truth

raise your voices
as in a single
sustained cry

a mighty bellow
for justice

if you hear —
then you are us

with heads raised
slay the false gods
who would have you bent
and supplicant

tear down their altars
of destruction
of avarice
of fear
of lies

lift your future
from the fire
embrace your manifest destiny
resurrect your dignity

the key
is in the veiled hands
of courage

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: earthweal

Poetry at: dVerse

 



Touch

 
T here is a needing
there is a caring

there is a taking
and a giving

so make genuine
your heart
as you reach
to clutch such knowing hands
as these

hands withered by life
deeply etched in wisdom
carved by experience

they bless you
with their touch
these beautiful hands

these fragile hands
strong with knowledge

anointed hands
blessed by time
and the will to endure

their radiance
envelopes their sainted touch

open hands
of precious flesh
reaching to you
through the ages

their sacred essence
is their touch

grasp firm
but gentle
hold tight these hands
enwrap them
in love

understanding their fate
may be your deliverance

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

Love Drenched

~ creatively composed from the last lines of my 13 most recent posted poems ~

 
You are love’s beautiful rescue
sweeping us away
in passion’s sweet taboo
in the November rain

love drenched

and it is gone now
the deep silence
the dormant sadness

I feel your warmth
your smolder

in this moment
my love spills over

I’m consumed
wet with need

molten
in this splendid
pure golden moment
as slowly we kill ourselves
over and over
in fired small death’s

I sigh and settle
and resume reading
your pulsing desires
and for long as I can
I will

I believed love
might someday return for us
and it has

now we will dream
warm in each others arms
forever

no more probing
for the dark docks
of our souls
looking for home

we are here

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Paprika Sky


Edward William Cooke — “Venice, A November Evening in the Lagoon” (1859)

 
F og begins rolling
low over the boat
slowly cloaking
it in a ghostly shroud

the navigator’s lone light
hangs heavy
from the rigging’s ring

throws its yellowed glow
into the early november night
as the ship slips silently
under the ever thickening
paprika sky

searching its bow beam
silken ‘cross the still water
of the harbor’s tranquil lagoon

probing for the dark dock

for home


Edward William Cooke — “Sunset On The Lagune Of Venice”

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 


Solitaire



John Atkinson Grimshaw — “A November Morning” (1883)

 
S treet is deserted save for single sign of life
morning hangs heavy in chill november
as autumn tumbles towards winter

S he feels the losing of the light
the ever growing darkness
the advance of the cold
the time of endings
death’s due vigil
deep silence
dormant
sad
~

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 

Consumed

 

Across the meadow
I see you afar
resting by the path
bathed in sunlight
your hair golden in dawn’s glow

lover beholding beloved

I sit
warmed in daybreak’s window
with tea and fascination
watching you

in this moment
my love spills over
I’m consumed

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse