rob kistner Aug 11

it's kick stands up eyes cast to the west
this is the day we've anticipated
our escape from the grind
four long-time friends
chasin' adventure
seekin' truth
all in

fueled by the freedom of the open road
we race our way into the sunset
leaning tightly into curves
wind whipping our hair
our knees tucked
heads down

thriving on the thrill of the throttle
embracing the magnificence
living in the moment
not counting time
or keeping track
just being


rob kistner © 1970
(revised 2018)
A little concrete poem I originally began writing while my three best friends and I were crossing the USA, riding our motorcycles.
Very recently I added a third stanza (the opening stanza) that I had pondered numerous times over the years.  I had for years been dissatisfied with how this piece began. A few weeks ago it hit me like a ton of bricks. Begin the poem how the adventure began - "kick stands up"! I posted it today because this is the date we went kick stands up, and took off on our cross country adventure in 1970 - to return home the next year,
Oh, great horsemother in the sky,
Here is a question from a bard such as I,
Are you shooting a racing vet today?
Another horse was destroyed for gain,
This is, of course,
A personal hobby horse,
If a horse gallops anyway,
Why are you whipping them this way?
This is the sport of kings, you see,
Death for a horse, if not its jockey,
Sounds to me like animal cruelty,
Racegoers turn the other way,
Drink some more best champagne,
This is question, better yet,
Does horsemother ever shoot the vet?
We lost another beautiful thoroughbred today, shot by  the racing industry.
Constantine Aug 8
I don't get it
i stood still for so long for this to work
finally we might have the timing right,
so why do i feel like this one is amiss too.
I can feel your love, it feels real this time.
I just don't know if i can say the same about mine.
I'd hate for you to read this.
I promise i love you like i always did
but i think this affection needs to be from a distance.
Sage Jul 17
We are lighting up
just to try them out
See the smoke escape
From darkened mouths

Watch the swirling clouds
meet the horizon
In a laid-back town
Leaving your pure-white gown

In the backseat
Just too young to be treasured
Just too old to be loved
We are driving
We are racing
not-quite-classic car

A place of our own
With cigarette burns
And a world of steel
Needles to numb what we feel

Without a care
Higher than the smoke blows
Burning pavement and open skies
Sending letters of our lies

In the backseat
Just too young to matter
Just too old to run
We are living
We are losing
A not-quite-classic car
Can’t seem to fall asleep.

Played games.
Read books.
Still nothing.

My eyes feeling so tired but my body full of energy.

My mind races full of things I can’t control even though sometimes I make up weird scenarios on how I would want things to turn out.

My eyes restless.
My body energetic.
My thoughts dieing.

Sleep find me.

                        With love,
Good morning guys.
jai Jun 21
i wish i could decipher even a small portion of what is running through my head
each thought that runs thru my mind is in and out so fast i’m not even able to see the image
every fucking scenario of my life for the 50 years is coming and going

every possibility
sometimes things get fast and they get loud and they get extensive and they get intense
all at once
Tara Jun 18
My parents tell me to sleep
I take my sleeping pills
Sit alone in the darkness.
The record skips once
And again
And again
My mind races
Will the record player ever stop

My parents scolded me
The sleeping pills are worthless
I sit with my thoughts
The record player dies
It’s silent
It’s to silent
My mind pauses
When will it return
I take sleeping pills and this is actually something that happens to me a lot. My record player is lovely but the records have their skips....
Vexren4000 Jun 7
Redlining down autobahns,
Highways and twisting side roads,
Country cornfield straight streets,
As the meter passes red,
The car begins to shake,
A violent sound,
Then silence.

liv Jun 4
i swear this website will be the death of me
racing thoughts in my head
how am i suppose to write anything
there’s so many people better than me
yet i’m not really sure who i’m trying to be
i just wanna be anyone but me
late night thoughts got the best of me
i really just don’t know when i’ll stop comparing myself to others
Miira Jun 1
The never-ending chattering
Like a bullet train forcefully dashing
Across the endless tunnel, wondering,
“Is this a curse or a blessing? “

In the bottomless pit, clearly drowning
Clearly struggling
While others are just intently watching
Thinking it’s all just... acting.
Next page