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The petals on your roses have long fell off.
I’ll be there to plant new seeds.
My flowers have decayed.
But yours will bloom.
I just hope we can share the same water
When even if I’m dying.
The stained red petals on your roses will bring me back to life.
rob kistner Aug 28

Speaking to the sky, she breathes, “It’s a beautiful sunset tonight!”

          “Sunset always is out here,” is my quiet reply.

     We sit at the Oregon coast.
     We watch the autumn sun set into the Pacific.
     We're filled with thoughts of our dear departed friend.

          “Always is,” I repeat in a hollow voice.

She responds. “Absolutely awe inspiring — the golds, ambers, and coppers are amazing!”

     The fiery orb of the sun splashes into the western sea.
     The ocean goes molten.
     Memories flow.

“Look at those waves sparkle, they’re like facets of a golden diamond,” she offers in a tone of wonder.

          “The blues and purples are intense,” is my flat come back.

“The clouds! That coral and pink fire against the vivid white — it’s breathtaking,” she continues, voice lifting.

     My soul stirs, more memories.                                      

          “I knew Gary since we were kids, over sixty years.”
          My voice trembles.
          “So hard to believe he's gone.”
          My voice cracks.

Sliding close, she gasps, “Oh honey!”

          “I do love sunsets,” I whisper through tears.

She looks into my eyes, searches my soul.
“I know my love, I know.”
She sighs, and falls quiet.


rob kistner © 2007
(revision © 2018)
In “Sunset”, a couple sits on the Oregon coast, watching the sunset. The man has just learned of the passing of his friend since childhood. The woman tries to lift the emotions of the moment by pointing out the rich warm colors of the evening — the man is drawn to the dark, more somber hues. They both need this sunset. This piece is a simple study in contrast, the beauty of the sunset agaisnt the sadness of the loss.

I just learned of the passing of a long time friend. It put me in mind of this piece I'd written 11 years ago. I dug it out, tightened it up, and posted it here with thoughts of my friend.

This piece is inspired by similar scenarios I have experienced in my past.
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 10
"I Have No Sympathy"

Some of us want to escape,
To escape the constant pain;
Others...they do not...
They escape to avoid the blame.

I have read these things,
For I must know;
But as for having sympathy -
That is well and truly "no".

You did this to escape
The blame and shame you deserved;
You broke your family and us,
For we never got what we deserved.

You knew full well the fate you would meet
and instead of facing us -
You put a rope around your neck
....and jumped off a seat.

Your family deserve sympathy of course,
but you showed zero remorse,
You did this to them,
And you did this to us.

Some will continue to blame us
For your premature death;
But you are the one who took your life -
leaving us not "fixed" but with more strife.

If I am evil then so be it,
I have no sympathy, not even a bit;
So evil we may be seen,
You left us with more shit.

You knew full well
that justice would have been ours;
You knew full well,
that this had gone way too far.

Nobody knows how many you harmed
but with your death you did so much more;
You escaped justice,....
....selfish to the core.

None of us are stupid,
yet we deal with ignorance;
A victim blaming culture
with no common sense.

You are dead and gone,
You've no need to worry;
But your victims left behind
- we wont forget in a hurry.

You knew you were guilty,
You know you have no choice;
So you left us to deal with
the mess you had caused.

I have many emotions,
but sympathy for you is not one;
We live with it daily....
....but as for you...you're gone.

"Suicide is not a sign of weakness"
so we hear people say;
Well I and others beg to differ -
you were too weak to let us have our say.

I have no sympathy,
and yes that may make me cruel.
But you hung yourself for a REASON,
And NONE of us ...are fools.
Apologies....this one should come with a Government Health Warning :(
Maria Etre Aug 9
doe(s) not always
conve(y) what
(M)ostly (pa)rts my mouth
(t)he (h)eart is
the most
articulate of
"If I Could Give You My Eyes" Series
Joseph Koch Aug 5
A stepped out cigarette is
contemplating it's existence,
Through the eyes of a life-long chainsmoker
I believe this can be thought about in many different perspectives, and can mean many different things.
Kilie Steel Jul 16
It was the forbidden fruit
sticky sweet and dripping
down your greedy fingers
as you watched her
from the corner of your eye

Skin like glass
eyes like fire
a laugh that rings
a smile that touches the sky

She was magnanimous
an unwitting host to your innermost desires

You stole the fruit
and you knew the consequence
but in the end
what did it matter?

An eternity of suffering for your disobedience
or a lifetime of regret from pushing it away?

They said the fruit was poison
that it would steal your breath
and take your soul

But how was that any different from
what she did to you?
How was it any different than
meeting her eye?
I’ve seen good men die
And bad men cry
And everything far in-between.

I’ve seen hate born of love
And a black feathered dove,
You have no clue what I’ve seen.

But you say things like:
“I feel you brother,”
“trust me, things will be okay.”

But you have no clue what it like,
Behind my brown spherical eyes.
Please stop the stupid things you say.

I’ve seen people given hope,
necks tied with rope.
My world is crazier than it seems.

I’ve family members lay dead,
Funerals without one word said.
The world just sucks for me.

But you say it’ll all be okay,
As if you’re clairvoyant.

But you’re not.

You say prayer and hope,
Falling off a cliff? You don't need a rope.
“trust me, things will be okay.”

But it isn’t.

It never is,
Never will be.

You have no clue what I’ve seen.
Here's a good one. Enjoy if you want, hate if you want, don't read if you don't want. Just do whatever makes you happy, thats all which matters.
clever Jul 1
It is nights like these,
When I stand and look out at everything,
That I know neither moderation or mercy.
What am I to do when the stars painted on the ceiling tell me that I Control every game and every play made?
What am I to do when the neon lights on the slot machines tell me
That I am the house, and I always win?
Resistance is unbecoming,
And I can't just ignore what the they tell me.
So I slip my legs over the balcony railing,
Watching and waiting for my time.
All the while,
I feel no sympathy
And I regret no choices,
For, tonight, I do not care about mercy.
No one will be spared.
Semicolon Jun 20
There's more to suicide than what we think it is.
It's not just unanswered questions,
sometimes, it's unasked ones.
For all those out there who self harm, please don't do it. Please don't do it, for me. For your family, for your friends, for all those who care, for yourself. You're not alone in this, trust me❤
For all those out there who are battling self harm, I'm so proud of you, keep going. I love
you, and I'm always here for you if you need me❤
For all those out there who help people that self harm, you're doing a great job. You're beautiful and you're going amazing❤
For all those out there who know people that self harm, please help them out. Tell them they're brave. Tell them they're not alone. Tell them you care. Tell them you love them. Give them your hand, they need it❤

Robin Stacks Jun 19
I know how angry you must be.
I feel anger, too!
Right now, probably all you see
Is emptiness for you.

It isn’t fair. That’s for sure.
Are you painfully asking why
Of all to choose from, God, why her?
How could He let her die?

Soon, an answer will work for you
And its sense will calm your mind.
It may take a year, or a month or two,
But you’ll know when it’s defined.

After that, you may be surprised
When you look up and see
That the world had not exercised
One pause for sympathy!

It kept right on turning,
And it’s still right here.
And by then you will be learning
That you are, too, my dear.

By Robin Stacks
copyright 2017
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