Distant Farewell

  • LONG-FORM, FREE-VERSE, SCI-FI ADVENTURE/LOVE POEM

  • Far-Worlds Corp research space schooner “Thadius”

     
    Distant Farewell

    ~

    “I’ve watched
    golden fire clouds,
    hanging in pale green skies,
    over the azure seas of Toluras

    I’ve seen the copper leaves
    of the parmus fronds
    flashing from indigo mountains
    in the crystal mists of Gemin.

    I have beheld exquisite beauty
    in my rich, full life
    but none so beautiful
    as your eyes tonight”

    this Artheo whispers
    his breath warms
    the tender lobe
    of my eager ear

    he presses his lips
    softly to mine
    with gentle passion
    bids me farewell

    now three hours past
    I linger in the bittersweetness

    I can still taste him

    here I am
    hurtling through space
    standing on the aft deck
    gazing

    reliving the kiss
    a sudden chill
    shocks me sober

    been here, done this
    precisely this
    in every detail

    impossible

    it’s my first time aboard

    a foreboding grips me

    I shiver as I watch
    the jade-sapphire orb
    grow smaller
    less relevant

    it now recedes
    less visible
    through the carbon-Lucite

    zero-g frost
    forms and obscures
    this breathtaking view
    of the lush planet

    our home planet
    Gaia

    a place
    some now on board
    will not again see
    for fifteen years

    if they are
    counted among
    the fortunate
    who do return

    we race
    exceeding light-speed
    toward a distant
    call for help

    unknown destiny
    in uncharted space
    with no idea
    what we will encounter

    the call made it certain
    no good lay ahead

    36959008-29B1-417B-B92B-2DA45555B906

    I am Sephias
    going to Topiarus
    to return
    in a year’s time

    I am distraught

    the anxiety
    of separation

    intense pressure
    permeates the crew
    who go the distance
    to the edge of space
    to answer
    the cry for help

    it is contagious
    I feel this too

    I feel ungrounded
    each time I choose
    to leave my man
    to go on mission

    my soul mate
    Artheo

    our love is deep

    it has withstood
    these essential
    separations

    we understood
    when I joined Far-Worlds
    that separation
    came with the program

    but knowing this
    makes it no easier

    my anxiety
    is heightened further
    given this mission’s
    uncertainty

    at Far-Worlds Corp
    we are involved
    in new-resources
    exploration

    we’re scientists
    not trained spacetroopers

    our expertise
    not military

    this ship
    the Thadius
    is a space schooner
    solar-wind powered

    a research vessel
    not a fast and agile
    battle cruiser

    not suited
    for space combat

    the security force
    we have on board
    trained to defend
    not to attack

    they protect us
    from known threats
    on our journeys
    through known space

    this mission’s different

    the unknown
    makes this dangerous

    the Dextorium
    was an advance ship
    sent to reconnoiter
    9 months ahead

    the Dextorium
    did in fact carry
    a battle-trained
    spacetrooper force

    but it has now
    fallen silent
    for many months

    the green glow
    of the interstellar
    contact indicator orb
    means they’re out there

    but silence
    not a word

    stream

    to take my mind
    off things disturbing
    I drift to Artheo
    to our last kiss

    he presented
    a calm brave face
    at our goodbye

    but I knew better

    now together
    two centuries
    rest assured
    I know my man

    as decorated Primests
    of the Science-Sect Elite
    we are privileged
    with three birthing cycles

    to improve the human strain
    a 40-year
    no-birthing period
    our second
    now nears its end

    soon
    we will enter
    our third
    free-birthing cycle

    we both welcome
    the sabbatical
    of twenty years
    that it affords

    we’ve begotten
    families
    in prior cycles
    and love them both

    we now dream
    of this newest family
    our near future
    holds in store

    this coming family
    is most important
    in our lives
    Artheo’s and mine

    state edicts dictate
    3rd cycle families
    caretake their fosters
    as health declines

    as we move closer
    to our stand down
    and cryogenic
    hibernation

    this new family
    will be our comfort
    as our current life-phase
    draws to a close

    as I reflect
    I am disrupted

    a sudden chaos

    panicked commotion
    on the foredeck

    there is great alarm

    I rush forward
    in time to see
    a startling scene
    begin to unfold

    there
    directly in front
    of our speeding ship
    menacing fields of energy

    they begin to spread
    linking together
    with apparent logic
    forming a grid
    blocking our path

    acting intelligently
    as though a sentient
    living thing

    6FF94A1C-DB1C-4C39-817D-5A5A040E2050

    they are immense
    and they are many
    as they assemble
    into a spherical net
    continually expanding
    as far as one can see
    it is there

    spread far too vast
    to travel around
    their advancing speed
    we cannot outrun

    as we approach
    the pulsing web
    their acceleration
    becomes exponential

    no doubt we’re on
    a collision course

    suddenly
    my senses jolt
    I stagger back
    in shock and awe

    it is now quite clear
    what fate befell
    our advance party
    and it appears others

    they’ve been, well
    they’ve been absorbed
    by this horrific
    electronic death-mesh

    we are defenseless

    we on the Thadius
    can only stare
    frightened
    but spellbound

    the crew’s emotions
    now run the gamut
    tears fill most eyes
    as hell approaches

    then I see more clearly
    in the eerie violet
    sphere of energy
    closing upon us
    tiny multi-color specks

    B0BAAB26-E387-4921-9D3B-3F363F9CACA8

    captured life-energies
    of the Dextorium crew
    and countless others
    that have come before

    their vital essence
    has been consumed
    by this entangled nightmare
    that now besets us

    their images flicker
    in and out of focus
    trapped in the grid
    held fast and hopeless

    empty faces
    of complete surrender
    translucent
    dead eyes
    living ghosts

    this thing is coming
    this host of evil

    terrified
    I feel helpless
    so confused
    and so alone

    its then I rush
    to my solarcomm
    to send a message
    to Artheo

    holding a Droon orb of light
    bravely I begin
    first sharing poetry
    as is our custom

    IMG_8614

    “we have walked quietly hand in hand
    in the emerald meadows of Telma
    sharing its golden angelfruit
    sweet as our stolen kisses

    we’ve heard the haunting call
    of the coral winged Lellurt
    in Droon’s violet skies
    over teal Darpin Bay


    now fate deems we part
    see this Orb of Light
    it is my true heart
    when I am gone
    it will shine on
    sweet Artheo
    it is my love
    eternally”

    “right now,
    I want to hear
    your soothing voice
    my precious love.”

    “I would give the world
    to hear your voice.”

    I am speaking
    in a tone controlled
    yet laced with longing
    and melancholy

    “I love you my dearest
    but something bad
    is happening now
    here where I am”

    “there’s a chance”
    then I must pause
    collect myself
    to start again

    “there is a chance,
    I may not return
    to you again,
    to our sweet life”

    here my voice quavers
    and then it cracks
    as I try to add,
    “or — to our children.”

    grasping for courage
    I go on

    “if this is
    to be my end
    it falls to you
    to raise them now”

    “please let them see
    they’re loved forever
    protect them well
    and keep them safe”

    it’s now a struggle
    to form the words
    but filled with love
    I press on

    “remember my eggs.
    they are safely stored
    at the Off-World Corp’s
    Reproductive Center.”

    “my surrogate
    has been selected
    she is tested
    and bonded pure”

    “you must see
    our new family born
    Zenus and Rennar — born

    please promise me!”

    choking back
    so many emotions
    I now fight
    to conclude the message

    this is the last
    I will ever send
    to my beloved
    Artheo

    these are the last words
    he’ll hear me speak

    moonfall2

    “these children,
    Zenus and Rennar,
    will be the final connection
    between you and I”

    “remember forever
    they are a part
    of each of us
    my darling one”

    “he and she
    will care for you
    and see you through
    your dimming years.”

    “they will love you
    as you’ll love them
    give them my love
    tell them about me.”

    voice faltering badly
    I rise to finish
    and share with Artheo
    my final words

    “god, oh god,
    how I want you
    here in my arms
    my one true love!”

    with that,
    my heart breaks
    as I stare silently
    into the screen

    teardrops streaming
    down my cheeks

    12 hours later
    the message arrives
    on Artheo’s
    commstation screen

    he is gripped
    by disbelief
    at what he sees
    at what he hears

    consumed by horror
    unable to move
    he stands trembling

    frozen by grief

    as he sees
    my message end
    my image flickers
    and then it fades

    Artheo
    falls to his knees
    without sound
    silent for some time

    then
    with a growing mix
    of fear and sorrow
    on his ashen face

    he throws back his head
    thrusts up his arms
    straight and stiff
    fists clenched in anger

    clenched so tightly
    nails
    cut into palms
    and bring forth blood

    bloodied hands
    whitened knuckles
    stab at the stars

    he keens and moans
    then begins to wail

    the guttural
    heart-rending wail
    of a man bereft
    soul-gored
    devastated

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2008
    (revision © 2019)

    The artwork above is by: Hera, of Stockholm, Sweden

    __________________

    And So

    “sweet memories of my youth”

     

    And So

    ~

    and so
    I think of her
    and wonder

    what was the fire
    that burned so bright
    and raged so fierce
    as to consume complete

    our essence
    left embered char
    smoldered ashen

    that in its heat
    and fury
    could not sustain

    back I drift
    to fall upon
    the tenderness of youth

    the satin skin
    the comely gaze
    the velvet touch

    a silken voice
    rising
    to lust and longing

    to impatience

    to immortality

    its soulful siren
    so seductive
    the nectar of all forbidden

    the breathless joy
    of sweet innocence

    when the wonder
    stirs to every mystery
    and the spirit lights
    to every spark

    igniting passion’s pyre

    to leave one spent
    in blissful ruin
    at story’s end

    tender memory
    of the throaty whispers
    of promised pleasures
    sweetly secreted
    in her virgin kiss

    and so
    I think of her

    remembering
    with no regret

    savoring the subtle linger
    harbored in my heart
    of the taste
    of her lips

    long ago
    at seventeen

    ~ ~

    “lips lush as cognac
    open softly to kisses
    urgently linger”

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 2019)

    ________________

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    click here to read more poetry at dVerse

    Clarion Stones

  • revised for Lillian at dVerse Poet’s Pub


     
    Clarion Stones

    ~

    all those years ago
    in the time of dangers
    they were placed in secret
    as a silent beacon
    in that deepest night

    waiting for the day
    when the shadowed world
    would waken from the nightmare
    shed its narrow petty ways
    and embrace the way of light

    stacked by those of vision
    blessed in hope and courage
    one upon the other
    like knowledge upon learning
    these standing stones of peace

    hear them call across the ages
    and beckon us to rise
    to step into the future
    to envision a new dream
    to let fear and hatred cease

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2010
    (revision © 1/22/19)


    67F4B295-9233-407D-934F-9CA3C5A2B3F5
    stacked stones in Sedona red-rock desert

    _______________________

    These sculptures are called cairns. A cairn is a human-made balanced stack of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Cairns have been, and still are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present. They are stacked as landmarks, direction finders, memorials, and also spiritual reasons, among other purposes.

  • Check out more shedding at dVerse:

    Shed some light on this today!

  • There Is A Darkness

    “I already wrote an original poem about my ‘night terrors’, entitled “In Darkness”, for Laura Bloomsbury’s September 10th ‘Making Much of Madness’ prompt, but this past piece was so on the prompt, I wanted to include it. I had posted a new revision of this poem for Laura’s prompt, but it wasn’t as positive — so I took it down.”

    EA24B3AE-E893-4D6A-9E65-95AB2949C743

     
    There Is A Darkness

    ~

    there is a darkness
    slinking
    in the corridors of my mind

    it frightens me
    because it is me

    the uncertain me
    in the ruthless grip
    of the devious unknown

    it lurks in shadow
    collecting the dark matter
    that steals into my days
    bleeds into my nights
    that ensnares me
    in times of weakness

    it seeks to find
    a corner of my soul
    in which to hide
    to sulk
    to secure a foothold

    this awful seed of depression
    endeavoring to take root
    to grow

    seldom does it sustain foothold
    for now
    restrained
    kept at bay
    by my inner-dwelling light
    which still has purchase
    that thankfully
    still seems to hold sway
    over my inner darkness
    violence in check

    this darkness
    has great cunning
    but I still find light enough
    to stem
    the pitch black

    the dark demons within
    the ones that strike out
    that belittle
    and dress down others
    that easily find fault
    criticize
    insult

    driven by my pain
    my anguish
    my angry insecurity

    but I will always seek the light
    and the meds
    so by and large
    my demons are controlled
    pray they always remain so

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

     

  • Click to check out more “mad” poems at dVerse:

    Tuesday Poetics: Making much of Madness

  • Click for more confessing at dVerse:

    dVerse Poetics: The Art of Confession in Poetry

  • Wolf Moon

  • The full moon each January is called the “Wolf Moon”. The full moon this January 2019 is a very rare “Super Blood Wolf Moon

     

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    Wolf Moon

    ~

    wolf moon hangs heavy
    in the january night sky

    bulbous moist orb
    rolling damp
    in a cold chromium fog

    wet slivers of cloud
    smear themselves
    across its face

    irregular

    like translucent sacks
    of moonbeams

    breathing
    breathing

    glassine billows
    oozing
    soaked with midnight

    stars float and spark
    glinting
    dripping
    shivering

    flash points
    in a wolfen eye

    frozen splintered crystal tips
    diamond chips
    pinprick rips
    in blackened space

    they wink and wane
    and sputter

    shattered bits of silvered light
    snapping here then not
    behind the ghostly white vapor
    that slithers
    through the firmament

    the world devoid of color
    aglow in sterling grey
    a negative of day

    thick and chilled

    filled with the sound
    of stalking after-dark things

    lupine spirits afoot
    prowling
    growling

    the hoarse breath of the beast
    festers a howl
    harrowing deeply this dank night

    nocturne

    the sorrowing hour
    to lay bare your soul
    in pale introspection

    in grief of secrets

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2007
    (revised © 2019)

    18C38E95-0CC6-4CBA-862C-2204934AB6027BA63C9E-0765-493D-A6D1-3BDEB94C9F46
    photos of the Super Blood Wolf Moon of January 20, 2019

    __________________

    The story of the “Super Blood Wolf Moon”

    IMG_9249

    This past Sunday, January 20th, at 9:12 PM PST, we here in the Pacific Northwest witnessed a rare spectacle in our clear night sky – it was the totality of a full lunar eclipse of a Super Moon. Super indicates closest proximity to earth. This first full moon of the year is always known reverently, as the Wolf Moon, which is appropriate given the deep, ancient ties between wolves and January’s full moon.

    For instance, the Gaelic word for January, Faoilleach, comes from the term for wolves, faol-chù. The Saxon word for January is Wulf-monath, or Wolf Month. Meanwhile, the festival of the Japanese wolf god, Ooguchi Magami, is held in January. The Seneca tribe links the wolf so strongly to the moon, they believe that a wolf gave birth to the moon by singing it into January’s sky. The Sioux tribe calls January 20th’s Wolf Moon the Moon When Wolves Run Together.

    This particular wolf moon of January of 2019, will be a “Super Blood Wolf Moon”, and will be fully visible to all of America after sunset on January 20. An exceptionally big, bright, red moon will be dazzling in the sky. It’s a total lunar eclipse, meaning the sun and moon will be perfectly aligned on opposite sides of the Earth. The moon will be completely covered by the Earth’s shadow and take on a reddish “blood moon” tint. Red due to dispersion of sunlight through earth atmosphere.

    The eclipse will occur with the moon at it’s closest to the Earth, making the moon appear brighter and bigger than usual, known as a supermoon. This coming “super blood wolf moon” is a very rare celestial event! OK, so this might be a little myth, a little mystery, and a bit’a “my gosh!”… but it’s fun, and will be a fascinating event to witness. To pay homage to January 2019’s “Super Blood Wolf Moon” I have written this poem to honor the proud lone wolf.
     

    click here to read more poetry at dVerse

  • Serenity Totem

  • Lillian at dVerse wanted us to write about what’s hanging on our walls. A variety of these Serenity Totems© hang on my studio walls. They are a series of original cylindrical art pieces I create and sell.

    B1B6D216-551D-4ECF-BA4C-C1058062DE50Entitled: “Sierra Gold” – by: rob kistner, 2017

     

    Serenity Totem

    ~

    couture fabric remnants
    all the way from Paris

    supple leather cuttings
    scraps secured in Denver

    links of golden chain
    my wife’s broken necklace

    small wood and metal findings
    recycled from the Goodwill

    the 7 found-pieces assembled
    to create a striking talisman

    a tasteful visual accent
    affixed to this Totem’s front

    hand painted oaken dowels
    make up the wall mount plate

    all these special treasures
    gathered lovingly

    cut and measured carefully
    then assembled with precision

    on rigid spiraled cylinders
    that once archived my drawings

    now crafted into an artwork
    hand-signed one-of-a-kind

    to be a beautiful addition
    to a most unique collection

    to be on display and sold
    at a coming juried art show

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    IMG_7132J

    Pictured is the assembly station in my Serenity Totems Studio

    This art piece pictured at the top here is called a Serenity Totem. I conceived this original artistic concept, and have been designing, creating, and selling these for years. They are made from all reclaimed upcycled materials, and found objects, mounted on coated, spiral bound, fiber board cylinders. On some I may also incorporate elements of trim discards of handmade Japanese Chiyogami Washi fiberstock. The cylinders intended purpose is archival storage of my furniture design blueprints and my digital artworks. Each Serenity Totem is a hand-signed, one-of-a-kind creation. I make them in four diameter sizes: 2″, 2.5″, 3″, and 4″. I have them hanging all around my studio where I also write. I create and sell these under the name Serenity Totems Studio.
     

  • Click here to see what’s hangin’ at dVerse:

    Come hang with me!

    ____________________

  • I created the two Serenity Totems pictured below entirely from recycled discarded/discontinued materials found in remnant bins, cuttings barrels, thrift stores, flea markets, and garage sales. * 36″ tall.

    IMG_9275
    by: rob kistner, 2007 ~SOLD~

    IMG_9276
    by: rob kistner, 2009 ~SOLD~

  • January Rain

    2DBE48D1-D83D-4264-BDAA-AA70DF8030B7

     
    January Rain

    ~

    January in the Pacific Northwest, finds wild nature in a period of recovery and renewal. Nature’s flowering plants, grasses, and brush, will be blessed by the nurturing rains that fall with the new year. Mighty evergreens pause, and deciduous trees go dormant. Our vast forests are rejuvenated by this period of rest.

    Streams have come to new life as the rains replenish their flow. Rainbow, Brook, German Brown, and Cutthroat Trout become active as waters rise and cool. Bear, deer, cougar, elk, coyote, big horn sheep, pronghorn antelope, hawk, osprey, eagle; the varied, plentiful wildlife of our region have begun their winter rituals.

    Our winter’s January is a peaceful time of rest and restoration here in this breathtakingly beautiful region. A regenerative calm lies upon the lush land, as the season of sky-water has arrived to quench nature’s thirst, and revivify her energies in this utopia.

    January rain
    pure life-giving sky water
    bless this land you love

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

  • More January contemplations at dVerse:

    Haibun Monday: January

     

    32AD0E85-B0A5-4D6D-B19A-E51CD04E0C53DAY 10

  • How Thin the Veil


     
    How Thin The Veil

    ~

    as I lie
    alone
    in the dead of night

    burglar moon at the window
    having stolen the colors of this day

    the world chill and quiet

    I wonder
    how thin the veil
    between here and gone

    and what will be the final breath
    the beckoning breeze
    the courier gust
    to part that curtain

    to lift me
    shed of mortal husk
    and carry me through

    to where
    to what
    I do not know

    only that the day
    the hour
    the moment
    draws ever closer

    as I lie
    alone
    in the dead of night

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2012

    Golden Morning

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    Golden Morning

    ~

    across the meadow
    last night’s dew clings
    fondly to the old-growth

    wrapped in crystalline embrace
    it adorns the stately cedars
    as if diamonds
    that sparkle in the morning sun
    a splendor befitting their beauty

    this Spring day begins bright and crisp

    bird songs lilt
    carried on a light breeze

    I see you afar
    approaching on the path
    backlit by sunrise
    your hair golden in dawn’s glow

    lover beholding beloved

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

    I watch you
    as you stop to rest

    in this moment
    my love spills over
    floods ’round me
    until I am consumed

    your lips sculpt a smile
    I’m swept away on passion’s tide
    on this golden morning

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2007
    (revision © 2019)

    Blue


     
    Blue
    ~

    This is Tanka Prose, similar to Haibun. Instead of the Haibun’s Haiku ending, this features a Tanka, of my composition, at its close. The 31-syllable Tanka has been the most popular form of poetry in Japan for over 1300 years. As a form of poetry, Tanka is older than Haiku, and Tanka poems are intended to be evocative.

    During Japan’s Heian period (794 to 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 or 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 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 do relate, to evoke a cohesive feeling. The feeling here is serenity.

    birds in the blue sky
    sampans on the blue waters
    blue temple gateway

    blue is the soul of serene
    let it calm your restless heart

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    ________________

  • This tanka was inspitred by the wonderful art seen above. It is entitled “Blue Temple” by Vorffy.
  • Through The Veil

    17AC3974-35B7-41EC-B1BA-4EFDB9ED3DB4
    “Infinite Instance” by: rob kistner © 1997

     
    Through The Veil

    ~

    I am nearing the veil
    soon to push through
    to see that which
    is not shown us here
    on this side
    of that gossamer curtain

    unable as we are
    in this manifestation
    to comprehend
    the incomprehensible
    the infinite secret
    the truth that bursts to light

    but when I push through
    I will ride that light
    in all ways through time
    simultaneously at once
    at the eternal instant
    the open door of forever

    existance will be no more
    I will be absolute
    indivisible from time
    absorbed by all of space
    a joy so profound
    as to be pure energy

    I was given the gift
    of the briefest glimpse
    beyond the veil
    I was not ready
    I again near the veil
    I am ready now

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

    alwaysoptions

  • This is a contemplation on crossing over. On April 6th of 2017 my heart stopped while in the hospital, the night I was recovering from a heart operation. The memory of that lingers. It is the memory of that experience that has inspired this poem. To be sure, this is an idealized imagining of what crossing over may be like. However, it is informed by an amazing and singularly unique feeling of blissful well being that had filled me that night, and from which I was grudgingly roused by the act of being awakened, from what I thought then, was sleep. Very soon thereafter it was confirmed by my cardiologist not to have been sleep. He explained to me it was a state that could have remained quite permanent, and I was about to receive an urgent Pacemaker implant. That night still holds mysteries for me.
  • Shhhh!

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    Shhhh!

    ~

    are you going with me to the coast
    if so we will be leaving at first light
    the need to be on time is uppermost
    I want to be there settled in tonight

    the party promises to be a blast
    crazy friends drinks and food of ev’ry kind
    these soirees have been epic in the past
    if we are late we will be left behind

    tomorrow it is breakfast on the beach
    it’s there we meet our hostess for the week
    she’ll have the masks we’ll need there’s one for each
    remember after that we do not speak

    then to the yacht where wondrous games are played
    magic – this high seas silent masquerade

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2019

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  • Hope

  • For society to have a real chance we need quality education!

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    Last Hope

    ~

    I lift myself quietly
    very quietly
    from beneath the sheets
    soiled with neglect
    soaked with my nightmares

    I am again awake
    from another dark night
    that began with fear
    fear I might not survive
    and ends in sorrow
    realizing I did

    I rise
    make my way carefully
    past the shallow-breathed crumple
    that lay milky-eyed
    in a heap on the floor
    un-moving
    save a twitch of the head

    a head which now harbors demons
    where nocturnal angels of sweet release
    had lain down lush upon it
    in fevered embrace
    lustfully conjured
    by last night’s spoon and lance
    still skewered silver in the soured vein

    this wreckage is my mother

    I stop but for a glance
    verifying life
    then move on head down
    angle to the bathroom
    to the scum-brown bowl
    to wash my face
    lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
    that hangs bare and lonely

    strange eyes
    hold me in the mirror
    broken as my heart

    eyes of knowing
    eyes of sadness

    grief courses through me
    weighing upon my being
    burning into my heart

    I want to cry out
    but there is no one here to hear me
    no hero that can help me

    driven by instinct to survive
    by urgency to flee
    I shudder away the paralyzing despair

    in this dank food-less morning
    in this ruined single room
    in this coat-less chill of predawn
    I gather up my books
    step lightly through the door
    down the damaged stairs
    into the hostile streets
    heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams

    I duck and dodge
    in and out of shadows
    praying to once again avoid the evil
    that lurks and slinks
    among the garbage and graffiti
    of these crumbled bricken’d canyons

    that rolls slow and lethal
    gripping cold blue steel
    in predatory drive-by

    evil
    seductive as a smile
    deadly as a snake

    evil
    which if diligence should fail
    I fear will consume my soul

    deliberately I continue
    until at last I find my way
    to the building
    to the classroom
    to my teacher
    to my desk

    to the only hope
    to which I dare cling

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2011
    (revision © 2019)

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