Do you know what makes us great!?
Do you know the delphian feeling!?

I have walked on the sun and slept on the moon
Letting out my own flares
Creating my own current

We have been burnt and suffocated
Leaving ash in our wake
Multitude, overflowing adrift washing away

Do you know what makes us great!?
The ability the see the lights potential and make it shine seen through all the sky’s as a dying star
We are capable
Yet we long for more

Do you know the delphian feeling!?
Our ability to achieve and go beyond, encouraging greed, deception, betrayal
The Light!!
A two headed sword
Cementing history
Creating mystery
Certify Victory

The light beautiful and bright
Yet dark and mysterious.

Rex Verum Regem
Weathered eyes
Watching I
Wondering why
Either the tale is
Or, surely! not yet another
‘Here within the story lies’
I heard you whisper;
And I just thought you meant
‘You made your bed’
(did i steal your whispers?)
So let’s not deny
The bed,
Another tale yet to be said -
Because another fable
Makes me feel unable
To know knowledge.
Then again.
Then again, Maybe it was never meant for
One plus one isn’t always an equation;
Just separate entities
Together again, are you now an
I don’t know where it came from, yet here it is.
In denial of the homicidal
In my mind

Who did I kill?
Eternally enveloped in ectoplasmic ethereal Blood
That’s not really there
It returns to the air
There’s no body here
Oh no
I’m empty I
He didn’t die

What did I kill?
I can’t possibly be aroused by empty notions
That’s not really true
It remains in the air
And the pieces are here
Oh no
I’m full I
Those aren’t mine

I sit and shine
With a smile inside
Fat with the deeds that abide
So say it
Shout it

I killed myself

Double homicide
I can’t deny
It’s not what you think
The old me long dead
The new me is too
The only me is now
And noon
Every day I live, and every night I die. Then the next day comes around and the process starts over again.
rob kistner Jul 6

soon fair summer will arrive
thank god my humor will survive

the winter rains held long this year
but now the sky begins to clear

seasons bow to this interlude
as if to hail my lifting mood

seeds push sprouts through rich warm earth
as nature cycles to this time of birth

buds pop forth through ready limb
streams run fast beyond their brim

bird songs lilt through greening trees
fragrant blooms waft soft the breeze

the hues and sounds of boisterous spring
my bursting heart begins to sing


rob kistner © 2018
Too often the procrastinator, this sat in draft since May.
But I like Spring, so thought I'd share it.
rob kistner Jun 23

on a day
in our future
on a distant knoll
in a sun-drizzled mist
beyond the temporal gate
we will again stand together
rejoined at last in our love
and you will tell me
of the wonders

in this realm
of evermore


rob kistner © 2018
The last sentiments expressed to a loved one who is about to die.
Delivered lyrically, as though a tender prayer of farewell, but not goodbye.
David Lampert Jun 21
At the end of a great writer...

"The most important moments are at the end.
10 minutes in youth may be unworthy.
These last moments will make all the difference to me,
but I will not remember one of them."

The newborn speaks and the men listen...

"Is the soul in the mind of the writer, or in the writing itself?
How does our consciousness pass on?"

The old man lays down his glasses the last time...

"I will now sleep and dream, and in the morning I may cry my first."
This was a dream I had and wrote down right after waking.
Lalima Yadav Jun 20
Of all the places
I have never been before
I carried myself
With weight
Of a million wreath
To reach
Along the endless shore
Under the blue sky
Away from the citylights
That's where
My tears silently
Rolled down
That's when
I looked up back the sky
To start
Healing and blooming
Once again......

Don't forget to tell me how's the poem!!!
nihiliti Jun 17
pale pink moonlight
crystalline sanguine eyes
dual drops to paralyze
time before death knells

prepare, prepare the way
down to the grave
laying to rest the days
done and rotten

bury and decay
burn away, don't stay
don't say you wish
things were what they were

let it die and rise
another day to dine
on the fortune belayed
for the moment you wake

reap what's been sown
follow the trail you know
go down the road grown
from your toils

as afore, so before does death yield new life
There is a time and place for everything they say...
T Jun 17
Constantly on the mind, a burden seemingly undefined.
Monday to Sunday, occuring daily without falter.
A posit ineffable, some would say laughable.
Like silence when broken, cemented in time.
Do not fret, life's not done with you yet.
Your time is nigh, get up and fly.
Leave behind those dark fragments suspended in time.
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