“Beauty is power — a smile is its sword.” – John Wray
Golden’d ginger
that falls in flows
as waves of luster
breaking full over
satin soft shoulders
sensuously scented
in a sweet vanilla
to cascade beyond
eyes a pale shade
of saffron petals
that sparkle amethyst
in gentle moonlight
shadowed softly
a subtle cinnamon
quiet seduction
with no escape
lips a pouted sheen
of rich paprika
full and inviting
a temptress smile
that begs a kiss
yet warns of danger
pure cognac sipped
as hard to resist
pardon me please
but if I stare
it’s just so rare
to encounter beauty
of such perfection
your classic face
divinely sculpted
Venus’s reflection
you so mesmerize
captivate and tantalize
spellbind and hypnotize
such a scintillating
blend of visual spices
true temptation’s recipe
it’s then I realize
Although here in my Seattle home, I am only 200 miles away from my Oregon, the fact that health has prevented me from returning for a number of years, and makes it impossible for me to ever again trek the breathtaking wilderness of that region, that lives so vividly in my memories — it feels that it might as well be on the other side of the country, in a beautiful, unreachable dreamscape. This envisioning I’ve written here of my return is presented from that perspective. It is likely also sparked, in no small way, by a subconscious wish that I could return to the robust health I enjoyed most of the 25 years I lived and explored in Oregon, discovering and falling in love with its precious beauty.
”It is not down in any map; true places never are.” — Herman Melville
Across the chasm of time
and great distance
memories unfold
vividly rich
like elaborate origami sculptures
as the paper of this odd map
unfolds bewilderingly before me
even ‘cross this flat
boring land spread
I see in my mind’s eye
soaring ramparts
of sky-piercing mountains
forested tier upon tier
with enormous sitka spruce
scattered brewers
known as the weeping spruce
the most beautiful of the conifer
whose branches in summer
display sunlight
as a jeweler’s velvet
showcases gems
the whispers
of wind-stirred
lawson cypress
towering ponderosa pine
and douglas fir
waft down emerald climbs
tangerine-scented white fir
a fragrance rivaled only
by the rough-tufted red cedar
the dogwood’s brilliant leaves
big-leaf maples
pendulous western maples
tight ranks of dark-green sadler oak
the golden shimmer
and crisp crackle
of white-barked aspen
these live and breath
boldly in my heart
calling me forward
this morning’s sun comes crisp and bright
enfolding my waking in warmth
and vivid presence
the world fresh and fascinating
I embark toward noonday
the joy of homecoming palpable
senses saturated and alive
blissfully consumed
by a deep satisfaction
that permeates this afternoon
my soul is full
my mind is clear
my heart — overflowing
as dusk descends upon this place
painting its heady grace and expectation
my pace is smooth and steady
the downing sun — a gentle gold embrace
early shadows fall soft across my face
as vesper’s velvet blanket
drapes its comfort ’round my shoulders
splendid calm envelops me
yet there are other shadows
strange distractions
that disrupt my moments
they come unannounced
almost imperceptible
but I follow close
without fear
the way blazened in my mind
and there is still far to go
I am eager to journey
drawn by the beauty
that is the rising moon in sunset
facing into the evening breeze
I venture onward
rolling amber and coral
spreads across the horizon
again the shadows shift
dull confusion finds me
I lose my pace and focus
but I do not heed
this temporary distraction
nor the suggestions of this creased parchment
unfurled before me
for it is not what will lead me home
I do not let it sway or stray me
for my heart knows the way
yet
nagging concern
disquiets me
a stab of panic
pierces my solace
have I been gone too long
will it feel the same
unwelcome bewilderment
grips me
holds me
uncomfortable in my skin
a cloud of frustration
sweeps over me
obscuring briefly
my purpose and destination
then the fog wafts
and again I envision
across the veiled valley
of time
my hearth and home
twilight is coming
much too quickly
and my concern
at first a nuisance — mounts
a gathering feeling
gnaws inside
fear I will not make it home
before this sunset
I am afraid
to lose this evening light
that leads my way
but my way
is not on this map
not on any map
it lives in my heart
and in my soul
this calms the disturbance
of my reverie
quiets my mind
brings my fear to settle
as the ease of remembered beauty
and warmth of home
swell my soul
ahead are the mountains
and forests of my Oregon home
where I finally return
to reclaim my heart
this day
now I have
such sweet recall
pulling me forward
urgently
even in the faded light
of many distant memories
these visions have held me breathless
soon I will gaze upon them again
…like a true nature’s child, I was born to be wild…
Left on a
moonless night
caddy shine’n bright
wad’a dolla’s in my hand
visions of the promised land
ruined my caddy — didn’t win
lost more than a little skin
paint n’patience worn thin
tough times came in bunches
just kept roll’n with the punches
partly afloat
partly aground
pressed against the river grass
abandoned now for many years
it’s weather withered
dry rot’s setting in
it is said
he was seen returning
in the settling dusk
of an autumn twilight
that shortly thereafter
the window
on the second floor
under which
the river flows
went dark as pitch
in the years since
no one has ever
come for the dory
no light has ever
pierced that window’s blackness
no sound has ever
disturbed the deep silence
of that broken brick building
only the stir of the wind
is ever heard
rustling the tall tasseled reeds
that crowd the river’s edge
some say
if you listen quietly
it sounds like someone
sadly whispering
Although the sky hangs heavy
in a threatening deep slate grey
the small tan stone dove cote
with its charming six-windowed cupola
radiates a settled sense of centered calm
further enhanced by the glow
of the golden afternoon sun
bathing it in a gathered beam
breaking precipitously
through the cloud cover
like a soft directed spotlight
wind whistling ‘neath wings
white birds of peace
glide in graceful circles
just above the steep-pitched
four-pointed shingled roof
perched on the stately tall
invitingly open arched walls
a single dove coos serenely
resting in one of the small portals
that sit centered in each wall
above the generous archways
that open onto the rich green grass
of a gently rolling tree lined knoll
the overall visual impression
is one of simple enduring beauty
the feeling evoked is captivating
a bles’sed sense of the sacred
shadowed inside someone kneels
concealed in a lover’s prayer
The dream broke
like a prodigal sun
on a startled winter evening
causing him to squint
blinking away happiness
like sand in the eyes of love
you were there
the dismissive femme fatale
in this final edit
and there was also
a dupe
an easy mark
you took his cues
took his keys
took his shoes
you took your leave
and took his heart
you took him apart
you took him for a fool
it wasn’t you didn’t want him
you said
you simply saw yourself
in a different movie
with a different ending
one that saw you
leave the casino floor
quietly alone
through the garden
alive with the fragrance of roses
and the joys of the lilly
and you thought “I’d like, too,
to plant the sweet alyssum
that smells like honey
and peace”
and in this peaceful quiet
there would be
no long farewells
no broken hearts
at least
not yours
and the abandoned man
in the leather chair
had my face
had no expectations
made no demands
held you responsible
for nothing
nothing
you’d rolled the dice
knowing the bones was loaded
jackpot
you’d won
from the garden
you reentered
by the cashier’s windows
collected your winnings
just then
a night lark sang
and a silver tear
fell hard as steel
from my crystal’d cheek
which you collected in a sterling box
to toss into the sea
for you had no need for tears
no need
so you climbed the winding stairs
silk purse in hand
my heart in your pocket
to place it at midnight
on your balcony rail
to watch it wither in the moonlight
Aphorisms
of all I can recall
these is ‘em
pulled these below
off the top of my head
but I really don’t know
maybe something I read
or heard one day
can’t actually say
but I do know this
I get their gist
You can’t win a mile race if you only run 5,200 feet.
Don’t criticize others if you are easily offended.
You’ll fail at every risk you don’t take.
The future is not tomorrow — it comes every second.
If you just can’t find an answer — the question may be the fault.
Even in darkness discoveries can be made — use more than just your eyes.
If you want to hear what others think — shut up!
There is no such thing as failure — only incomplete success.
If you keep tripping up — try going down.
The only thing certain is uncertainty.
You can’t outrun your history — nor your fate.
You may not always get what you want — often you get what you need.
Everything goes wrong — until it doesn’t.
The world may not be passing you by — you may be going backwards.
Bad deeds are like footprints — they follow you everywhere.
Easiest to ride the horse in the direction it’s going.
If you think you can’t — then you won’t.
Nothing beats working hard — except working smart.
The only thing that makes someone better than you is your thinking so.
Victory cannot be snatched from you — unless you let go your grip.
You will never finish last if you stay ahead of whose behind you.
If at first you don’t succeed — start at second the next time.
A better question than why — is why not?
If you follow your heart you will have a leader committed to you.
You can never go all the way — only as far as you went.
Love is letting someone be themself — not who you want them to be.
If you want to change something — do it differently.
You don’t know what to do, fine — but do something.
Falling for someone can never hurt — if they cushion your impact.
The person on top is simply the perch for the next one up.
Good intentions are never wrong — but some are certainly less right
You can’t be stopped if you just keep going.
One doesn’t need to know everything — just enough to appear to.
To win the race you need beat only one — whoever’s in 2nd place.
If you think you’ve been a fool, you are probably right
— and you’ll likely find someone who agrees with you.
The only real fool is the one who lived their life,
and hid their truth for fear of being called one.
ALL 6 DIGITAL IMAGES: Formatted, Focused, Light & Color Enhanced – by: rob kistner
~ the magical Oregon coast ~
I can no longer imagine
the soft Oregon spring rain
misting the morning light
bringing life to winter earth
I can no longer imagine
the stir of a summer breeze
shimmering across the surface
of an Oregon high mountain lake
I can no longer imagine
the filtered morning sun
falling gently golden
through an Oregon ancient forest canopy
~ Oregon ancient forest ~
I can no longer imagine
the snow covered alpine majesty
of the beautiful Wallowa Mountains
towering above Oregon’s Columbia Plateau
I can no longer imagine
the spectacle of pronghorn antelopes
blazing at 65 miles per hour
across the Oregon high desert
I can no longer imagine
the power of the blue pacific
thumping the huge arch rocks
on the autumn Oregon coast
~ Oregon Pacific coastal arches cove ~
I can no longer imagine
the magnificence of an Oregon waterfall
roaring 620’ from the clouds above Columbia Gorge
thundering down into the mighty river below
I can no longer imagine
the breathtaking cerulean blue
of a lake crystal clear to a 1,949’ depth
in the crater of an extinct Oregon volcano
I can no longer imagine
the stunningly surreal natural colors
and deep captivating meditative quiet
of the Oregon fossil-rich painted hills
~ Oregon’s Crater Lake National Park ~
for I need not imagine
I have experienced
these wonders
alone
face to face
unhindered by the disturbance
or interruptions
of another
I am a deeply devout isolophilian
~ Oregon’s John Day Fossil Beds National Monument ~
these wondrous natural treasures
open my soul
attune me to the earth’s vibrations
they enrich me
they reinvigorate my orenda
strengthen my mindfulness
align my chi
fortify my positive essence
purify my karma
this blessed isolation
reopens my eyes
to the beauty of solitude
to the pure gratitude
for simply being
I again feel merak flow through me
I find
peace of mind
