Frozen Man

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line art: “Frozen Man” — rob kistner © 2008

 

Stopping Is No Option

~

— QUADRILLE —

Stopping is no option

giving up
is giving in
grip letting go of dreams

frozen is the frightened man
withered in a worried cage

happy is a voting man
a hero heard and heeded

stopping is no option
for the times
they are a’changin’

rob kistner © 2020

~ ~

— COMPLETE VERSION —

* Watch me read Frozen Man complete version: CLICK HERE

Stopping is no option

to lose the way is to keep going
keep moving forward
lest one atrophies
rigid with despair
paralyzed with doubt
locked in hopelessness
bound by fear

the giving up
is the giving in
is the rot that sets
with the loss of wonder
when grip lets go of dreams

loss of faith debilitates the soul
cripples the manifest light
that shines so bright
at the leap into sacred uncertainty
so bright
as to boldly illuminate truth

frozen is the frightened man
withered in a worried cage

terrified of the wrong step
of the journey all in
of daring the way unmarked

wounded by fear
bleeding out the color of life
hemorrhaging joy
exsanguinating possibility

a cold brittled husk
mired in regret
for never having shone so brightly
as to blind the eyes of death
as to light the way of truth

valiant is a voting man
a hero heard and heeded
a cry of dissatisfaction
a voice of change
a stand for defiance

stopping is no option

so senators and congressmen
you best heed the call
don’t stand in the doorway
don’t block up the hall
for they that will lose
will be they who have stalled

so brothers and sisters
raise up your hand
let it be known
throughout the land
if we want change
we must take a stand

NO
stopping is no option

for the times
they are a-changin’

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2008
revision © 2020

 

https://youtu.be/wZ9drv78dCQ
 

NOTE: To read more about folly: CLICK HERE

Aeropachydermicide

Aeropachydermicide: recklessly causing the death of someone or something by actions that result from the foolish belief that one is so smart and powerful that one can make an elephant fly.

 

Aeropachydermicide

  • Debunking the ridiculous theory of human dominion.
  • ~

    somewhere between our petrochemical insanity
    and our reckless dance with fractured atoms
    we believed we were the miracle
    and it all went seriously awry

    we fantasized we had dominion
    that we understood the vast unknown
    could control the raw chaotic
    that we had figured out the why

    so we delved into dark science
    with no regard for frail nature
    flailed our way across the planet
    belched our leavings into our sky

    we so bought into our egos
    that we perceived ourselves as gods
    that we were capable of anything
    perhaps make the elephant to fly

    but we humans lost sight of balance
    did not comprehend our place
    as only one of precious many
    we let the tipping point slip by

    now we wonder what will happen
    to our misbegotten dream
    stare through disbelieving tears
    as we watch it slowly die

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 10/3/11
    revised © 2019


     

  • Click below to check out more poetry at dVerse:

    Poetic: Theories of Everything and Anything


     

  • Check out more poems on Toads

     

    35C6DAEF-40AA-452C-885C-C373E1DE84F6
    Hi! I’m Edgrrr, rob’s shih tzu.

  • Slithered


    The Snake Charmer, Henri Rousseau, 1907

     

    Slithered

    •

    ever hissing ever hissing
    the smooth slithered snake
    stealthily winds its slender self
    to slowly settle in the shadows

    to set its searching sights
    on its unsuspecting prey
    an ever patient sentry
    coiled to seize its precious prize

    with surety of purpose
    this silent sleek assassin
    will strike swift and certain
    never missing never missing

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2011

    • linked at Magpie Tales

    Ship of Dreams

    …I have always loved the fantasy art of Dean Morrissey and James C. Christensen, and this week’s prompt at Writer’s Island put me in mind of their highly imaginative and captivating work, which in turn inspired the poem below, with its “tongue-in-cheek” ending…

     

    Ship of Dreams

    •

    fantastic is this spell I’m under
    magic of a splendorous kind
    a world of cornucopic wonder
    treasure troves of dreams to plunder
    in this kingdom of my mind

    here I live a life enchanted
    here no fear of any threat
    sorrow is by joy supplanted
    no limit to desires granted
    what I want is what I get

    fantasy’s elaboration
    a god of pleasure I ascend
    soar in sweet hallucination
    in ships of my imagination
    oh, would this dream but never end

    Epilogue

    well now, oh dear, that was a bit much
    somewhat carried away it seems
    euphoria finds me out of touch
    with reality, good sense, and such
    perhaps I’ll temper my daydreams

    throttle back my vision quest
    bring fascinations down to size
    moderation will serve me best
    but dreams are so hard to repress
    no limits when you fantasize

    • • •

    rob kistner © 3/26/11

    • written for Writer’s Island

    • art piece at top by Dean Morrissey

    ________________________

    …below is a sample of the fantasy art of James C. Christensen

    Masquerade

    …this poem was inspired by Halloween 2010 prompt #27 at Writer’s Island.

     

    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

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    Emerald Eyes

    This poem is offered in response to prompt #25 for 2010 at Writer’s Island,
    also offered “off-topic” to the October 15th prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

    Emerald Eyes

    •

    emerald eyes captivate
    fix me in their gaze
    lift me
    carry me
    to the realm of unfinished dreams

    they strip me of fear
    longing
    of inhibition
    to render me transparent

    I rise weightless
    unburdened of care
    an untethered being of pure moment
    soaring through universes within universes

    a traveler in time and space
    ever-expanding consciousness
    aware of all
    riding the strand continuum
    drawing it forward
    reeling it back
    slipping all temporal bounds

    a being of universal presence
    adrift in the infinite now
    lost in the mystery
    veiled in those emerald eyes

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    Over The Edge

    This piece is offered in response to visual prompt Mag 33 at Magpie Tales seen at bottom of post,
    also prompt 22 at Writer’s Island,
    and prompt #135 at One Single Impression.

    Over The Edge

    •

    From down there, down there,
    it’s coming from down there.
    From where — down there?
    Yes Sis, I swear!

    That horrible smell
    that’s filling the air,
    the one that’s most certainly
    impossible to bear,
    is coming from that women
    with the massive blue hair
    sitting alone on the patio chair,
    on the deck of the house,
    that’s below us — right there!

    What a putrid aroma,
    you’d think that she’d care.
    There are simply some things
    that one never should share,
    like the stink that is rising
    from that patio chair,
    on the deck of the house
    that’s below us down there.

    And the hideous color
    of that mountain of hair —
    I can’t help it, can’t help it,
    I can’t help but stare.

    It’s a tangled and horrible monument to
    a disgusting and eye-blinding
    shade of bright blue —
    and it’s causing a feeling of nausea too!

    I must look away my heads starting to whirl,
    and I feel that my toes are beginning to curl,
    I fear over the edge here I’m going to hurl —
    and I don’t want to do that in front of a girl.

    Maybe I’m wrong
    but I would assume,
    if one’s going to bathe
    in a noxious perfume,
    they’d at least have the manners
    to exhibit some pride,
    and not foul the ozone,
    instead — stay inside.

    Not to be the forecaster
    of gloom and of doom,
    but keep the eco-disaster
    contained to one room.

    And if you’re chromatically challenged my friend,
    consider the others that you might offend.
    A monumentally grotesque rat’s nest of blue,
    is not something I care to look at on you!

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010


    Mag 33

    Believe

    This piece is offered in response to prompt #19 at We Write Poems
    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


    Believe

    •

    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

    • • •

    • poem above borrowed key line from the song “Fireflies” by Owl City

    _________________

    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

    For No One

    …this piece is in response to prompt #17 at We Write Poems,
    and prompt #69 at Carry On Tuesday,
    also the September 1st prompt at Three Word Wednesday…




    For No One

    •

    the cadence
    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 self”
    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

    • artwork by Aynaku, embellished by: rob kistner 2010

    Elton The Elf

    I wrote this in response to the spirit of the July 26th prompt at Big Tent Poetry


    Elton The Elf

    •

    an angel-eyed velvet-clad curious elf
    was sitting alone on a leaf by himself
    quite lost and he didn’t see anyone else
    he was scared and he hid and he tried to be stealth

    “I wish I was home like a good little elf
    ‘cause I left my big glasses on my bedroom shelf
    and this is no a place for a song-writing elf
    these damp woods are not very good for my health”

    his mother warned “Elton, you’re a wee little elf,
    don’t go wandering off in the woods by yourself
    take Bernie along, and your cell phone as well,
    dear son please consider your fame and your wealth!”

    but wee little Elton was a quite stubborn elf
    tired of playing piano in his room by himself
    bored with being a world famous rock ‘n roll elf
    with gold records – Don’t Go Breaking My Heart was his 12th

    you know it really is hard being a curious elf
    curiosity is why he’d snuck off by himself
    now he’s lost and can’t find his way home without help
    sometimes its dangerous being sneaky and stealth

    could this be the end for sweet Elton the elf

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010

    Always Options

    …in response to the 10th prompt of 2010 on Writer’s Island, I offer a perspective on perspective…




    Always Options

    •

    he came upon divergent ways
    that stretched beyond the road he’d trod

    he would go forth this was his mind
    but had no notion which way that was

    the pathway left was sparse with step
    the roadway right was traveled plenty

    leaning low to great extreme
    he examined close the evidence

    it came clear that those who journeyed left
    were light of weight with timid step

    while those who traveled onward right
    wore finest boot of heavy heel

    he thought on this for quite some time
    until at last he knew for sure

    he started neither left nor right
    but instead went straight ahead

    he hacked and carved and blazed a trail
    into the new for those who’d follow

    wise in life possessed of logic
    he realized to where he’d come

    the threshold of a new frontier
    too raw for the sated too brute for the weak

    those that would survive and prosper
    would be among the enlightened bold

    it would be those who’d choose this trail
    full of promise made by his hand

    with spirit full and muscled zest
    he whacked and chopped and cleared the way

    for those who’d come who were empowered
    to seize possibility — a bright new world

    • • •

    (haiku)

    •

    trail forked this spring morne
    white-tails chose the woods instead
    always more options

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010



    • dedicated to the visionaries who see beyond •

    Blue Temple

    …response to prompt #14 from Magpie Tales



    The image of this plate above, this week’s prompt at Magpie Tales, immediately put me in mind of serenity. Also, while the plate may be Chinese in origin, it also made me think of the ancient Japanese poetic form called tanka.

    Tanka are 31-syllable poems that have been the most popular form of poetry in Japan for at least 1300 years. As a form of poetry, tanka is older than haiku, and tanka poems are evocative.

    During Japan’s Heian period (794-1185 A.D.) it was considered essential for a woman or man of culture to be able to both compose beautiful poetry and to choose the most aesthetically pleasing and appropriate paper, ink, and symbolic attachment—such as a branch, a flower—to go with it.

    Tanka have changed and evolved over the centuries beyond the traditional expressions of passion and heartache, and styles have changed to include modern language — but the form of five syllabic units containing a total of 31 syllables has remained the same.

    Each line of a tanka consists of one image or idea. One does not seek to “wrap” lines in tanka, though in the best tanka, the five lines flow seamlessly into one thought or feeling.

    This particular visual prompt also sparked my recall of a simple, but wonderful piece of art I discovered a few years back, entitled “Blue Temple” by Vorffy.

    So here I present my tanka entitled “Blue Temple”, including for your pleasure, the Vorfffy art piece of the same name.

    _____________________________




    Blue Temple

    •

    birds in the blue sky

    sampans on the blue waters

    blue temple gateways

    serenity is sacred

    approach with your heart open

    • • •

    rob kistner © 2010


    NaPoWriMo #29

    This is my Twenty-ninth, and penultimate post for National Poetry Month 2010

    ____________________________________

    …this poem was inspired by D.S. Apfelbaum’s day 29 post at readwritepoem…

    ____________________________________

     

    Space Is

    •

    a lightless void of soundless vacuum
    spinning masses of revolving orbs
    hurtling fragments in crystalline vapors

    molten cores
    mingled gasses
    dead husks
    black holes

    magnetic icefalls
    plasma rain
    liquid lightening
    solid clouds

    attractions and repulsions
    of precarious fragility

    a frozen dance of chaos
    on the tentative edge of balance

    unfounded fear
    unquenchable wonder
    unrealized dreams
    ultimate frontier

    relativity’s fabric
    tangled in the cloth of time

    reality’s illusion
    set in fantasy’s foundation

    ceaseless hope
    endless adventure
    unexpected catastrophe
    boundless courage

    humankind’s triumph and sad folly
    the seductive promise of the future

    our salvation
    infinity’s threshold
    the eternal question
    the elusive answer

    the everlasting bastion
    of never-ending truth

    a longing call
    a constant listening
    a driving force
    a reason why

    fountainhead of myths
    spark of religions
    and other superstitions
    home of the gods

    magnificent obscurity
    a source of mystery
    font of knowledge
    cause of fiction

    the unknown of the unknowable
    nothingness absolute

    the billions and the billions
    ever expanding everything

    …space is

    • • •



    rob kistner © 2010

    ____________________________________

    artwork entitled “Infinity’s Door” by: rob kistner © 1998

    ____________________________________

    …see what offerings are this day at readwritepoem

    NaPoWriMo #27

    This is my twenty-seventh post for National Poetry Month 2010
    • one acrostic
    • one tanka


    ____________________________________

    • inspired by Carolee Sherwood ‘s day 27 prompt at read write poem to write an acrostic

    ____________________________________


     

    Evolution

    •

    Even in chaos nature finds balance.

    Violent floods beget fertile fields.

    One thing ends, another begins.

    Life is a cycle of birth and death.

    Untamed wildfire creates forest ash.

    The ashen remains nurture growth again.

    In the caterpillar lives the butterfly.

    One thing ends, another begins.

    Now and forever, the mandella spins.

    • • •

     

    ____________________________________


     

    Stone Fox First

    •

    garage sound check great

    groupies at the ludlow door

    allmans soon to start

    damned duane is still m-i-a

    we stone fox boys are ready

    • • •


    • acrostic and tanka by: rob kistner © 2010

    ____________________________________

    …check out who’s gettin’ acrostic at readwritepoem

    NaPoWriMo #22 – The Gaia Suite

    This is my Twenty-second post for National Poetry Month 2010
    • an Earth Day message
    • two tankas
    • one prayer


    ____________________________________

    • • Happy Earth Day • •

    ____________________________________


    • Go and visit the Earth Day Action Center 2010, and please — be aware!




    An Earth Day message:

    These are some thoughts I would like to share on this Earth Day 2010. It is from my heart, and expresses my great concern for this planet earth, and all of us who are traveling aboard her. If you are not in the mood for heavier fare, you can skip down to the poetry below this message.

    For the rest of you, I see our global society becoming more and more desensitized to killing, suffering, the dignity of women, our failing stewardship of this planet, and the value of life in general.

    Popular art reflects culture; it has in all of history. The ongoing proliferation of movies, video games, music, comic books, our dress and personal trappings, TV, even the TV commercials; this all cast a disturbing reflection of the direction a core section of the people of the earth are moving. And the less than subtle movement to cast doubt, even ridicule, on those who believe that the care of this world needs our attention NOW! One might argue that any of these individually is perhaps moot, but taken as whole, it begs to be examined — I feel.

    Our children and adults alike, spend hours playing graphic video games in which the sole purpose is bloodletting — maiming and murdering, in the most violent and gruesome ways. There are many wonderful video games, but the breadth and depth of the “snuff” games is cause to pay attention.

    The gladiator-like fighting cultures that have arisen in recent years is something to look at. These are no longer the staged violence of pro wrestling, in itself a bit unsettling – these are real blood for the sake of blood. In Rome, the rise of gladiators was a sign of the accelerating decline of the Roman Empire. We may not be there yet, but what does this current, rampant thirst for blood have to tell us?

    Another litmus that has always reflected the culture, is the impact of man’s religious constructs. Too often, the role they play is the manipulation and repression of his freedoms. I have nothing against the numerous religious constructs man has created. For those so drawn, they are a place for the safety and certainty they require.

    However, when radical religious minorities begin to attempt to dictate and rule the masses, imposing their constructed values and fundamentalism, especially when they claim it is the will of god – we’ve got to take serious notice.

    These are the signs that point to the stripping of freedom of responsible individual thought and personal rights – and essentially, eradicating the essence of personal responsibility. Today, with the rise of the repressive extreme fundamentalism that we see around the globe, it is akin to the eve of the dark ages. I don’t think we will descend to those extreme depths, but what does it mean when we have so many who would lead us there – even if, in some cases, it is unwittingly?

    I so want to champion optimism — but I cannot and will not turn a blind eye to the signs I see. None of us had better do so. We all need to become proactive for balance. That is the key. Balance the extremes of this world; ecological, social, moral, financial, and the like.

    To be proactive I have started this creative blog, Image & Verse, to begin, in my small way, to penetrate the root sensitivity of our society. I firmly believe the embrace and expression of creativity is the key to elevating our human species.

    I write poetry, speaking in sparse focused voice at times, entertaining lofty and beautiful thoughts at others, also embracing our human sensitivity and sensuality, and holding a mirror to reflect what is beautiful, or to reflect what I see as troubling — because I believe poetry has the power to penetrate the human psyche to greater depths than any written form.

    Poetry actually has the ability to alter people on a level that strict written word often cannot. If I write an essay, I make you think; maybe even alter your opinion. I write a poem, I have the chance to make you feel something, in your core – that can alter your hardwired being. I believe this.

    I think we urgently need to probe to these depths of the human psyche now, to send out these altering sparks, because I think there is trouble brewing, on some fronts, that could have dire consequence for the long-range future – of the planet and humankind.

    I also write poetry to celebrate, to lift up my own spirit, to have hope, to see possibility – to protect my personal sanity.

    So let us dance, sing, embrace the beauty and the miracle of life and this magnificent world in which we live, and seek joy and truth – but let us not be a Nero. Our Rome is beginning to smolder.

    –and so it goes–
    …Rob

    ____________________________________

    …this art piece immediately below is entitled “Gaia Yields” by: rob kistner © 2007…


    The Gaia Suite

    Gaia Weeps

    •

    man seeks dominion

    frail balance has been disturbed

    gaia is weeping

    man clings to his arrogance

    denial does not absolve



    Gaia Yields

    •

    seeds push seeking sun

    sky is pulling with spring rain

    gaia yields new life

    if man is responsible

    the balance can be restored



    Prayer For Balance

    •

    mother gaia you embrace us
    carry us safely
    as we hurtle thousands of miles
    every hour of every day
    through infinite space

    you provide for us our every need
    sustain our bodies with your abundance
    nurture our spirits with your beauty
    your endless wonders

    your need is simple

    that we live in balance with your rhythms
    with our fellow travelers on this amazing journey

    that we know gratitude
    humble stewards of your countless gifts

    for millennium upon millennium
    we lived in harmony
    attentive
    reverent
    but we’ve grown arrogant

    foolishly
    we believe we have dominion over you
    over all in your realm

    in pursuit of intellect we lost our sense
    our equilibrium
    lost our way

    even as we watch you suffer
    we cling to our ego
    to our destructive delusion of supremacy

    we do not see
    do not understand

    please forgive us
    be patient
    do not forsake us
    we can learn
    we must learn

    love for you is still strong
    among your wayward children

    this voice of love cries out
    please listen
    it resonates more loudly with the passing of time

    precious mother gaia
    grant us time to again find our way
    our humility
    our center

    the balance

    • • •

    • tankas and prayer by: rob kistner © 2010

    ____________________________________
    …thanks to Catherine for her prompt, and check out the other offerings at readwritepoem