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A weaving of words By: Caleb Alan Kestner Part the I 2 A weaving of words By: Caleb Alan Kestner Part the I 3 2 nd Story Press Minneapolis, Minnesota (I make no claim to the illustrations; they are in no way my creation, unless otherwise noted. If you happen to know the author of one of the pictures listed, as anonymous, please let me know so I can give them proper credit.) Printed in the United States 4 This book is dedicated to my Mom Who gave me words. Thank you. 5 6
Citation preview
Ink A
weaving of words
Part the I
By: Caleb Alan Kestner
2
3
Ink A
weaving of words
Part the I
By: Caleb Alan Kestner
4
Copyright © 2009 by Caleb Kestner. All Rights Reserved.
(I make no claim to the illustrations; they are in no way my creation, unless otherwise noted. If you happen to know the author of one of the pictures listed, as anonymous,
please let me know so I can give them proper credit.)
2nd Story Press Minneapolis, Minnesota
Printed in the United States
5
This book is dedicated to my Mom Who gave me words.
Thank you.
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Contents iiiXiiiiiI. The Sparrow ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 12 iiiiiiiiiII. Madness ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~15 iiiiiiiiIII. Atlas us, a… ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~16 iiiiiiiiIV. Coffee Rain ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~18 iiiiiiiiiV. The Tree ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~21 iiiiiiiiVI. Ink ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~22 iiiiiiiVII. Storm ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~24 iiiiiiVIII. Seasons ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~27 iiiiiiiiIX. Sleeping in the Sand ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~28 iiiiiiiiiX. Silent ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~30 iiiiiiiiXI. Good Morning Moon ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~33 iiiiiiiXII. Life ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~34 iiiiiiXIII. On a Stair ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~36
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Illustrations Sparrow ~ Anonymous Straight Jacket ~ Anonymous Atlas 1 ~ Anonymous Atlas 2 ~ Anonymous Rain ~ Anonymous Winter Oak ~ Lynnette Henderson Ink Splatter ~ stockphoto.com Storm ~ Anonymous Snow Scene at Shipka Pass ~ Commons Autumn ~ Commons Fulmur Falls ~ Commons Zion Angels Landing View ~ Commons Beach ~ Anonymous Cityscape ~ Anonymous Moon ~ NASA The Past ~ Cole Thomas The Present ~ Cole Thomas Romantic Landscape with Ruined Tower
~ Cole Thomas Pinecone ~ Anonymous
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27
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29
30/31
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35
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37
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“True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, as those who move easiest have learned to dance.”
Alexander Pope
12
The Sparrow I once shattered broken fell into deep an empty well Screaming as I falling did many out the fears I'd hid Landing hard I hardly knew wherefore what I next should do Deeply lying shadow shroud 'round me echoed silence loud Thus remaining wonder I feeble dare to chance a cry Or resting wait till strength return as quick away my life does burn Deep above me sits the sky little caring if I die Freedom midst it's clouds does reign above a prison built of pain As I bemoaned the fate of me did land a sparrow on my knee And staring I my breath did catch to see this life upon this wretch Then knowing I to death was bound fell dead the sparrow on the ground Time reversing backward spun up where to first I'd begun Answer none I have to give of why once dying now I live Ever recall shall I that day in terror hopeless as I lay How all I had did fail me when I fell to pain a prisoner, and how but a simple sparrows fall did thus return to me my all
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Never get into a brick throwing contest, with a rubber wall.
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15
Madness
Is it madness to question the truth of a lie? To look past the answer but never the why?
Is it beauty to revel in things that don't last? To pass by the catch in pursuit of the cast?
Is it hate to object to beliefs not your own? To turn from a theory and favor a known?
Is it love when it’s only for those who love you?
And if loves based on lust can it ever be true?
Can a world that’s so broken at last be redeemed? Is a wish in the end ever just what you dreamed?
Are there reasons for sorrow? Is there purpose for pain?
Can a heart once its lost be completely regained?
Can contentment reside in a soul that wants more? Does peace ever balance the anguish of war?
Is it better to give then to get or to gain?
Is the shame of a sin just as bad as its stain?
Is the only reality that which we sense? For a sheep does the universe end at a fence?
Is it madness to question what the world says is true?
Perhaps, but I will and I have and I do!
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Atlas us, a... Atlas us, a world do hold on our shoulders bent and bowed. All our might to hold on high, the pieces of a falling sky. Once upon a time ago. Mighty pillars held it so. But time their glories turned bereft, foundations remnants all that's left. Once composed of all the world. Nations gathered, now lay hurled. Shattered systems careless strewn, left to rot amidst their ruin. Majestic once the world their own. The sun upon them ever shown. Now reduced to shadows only, broken, angry, scared and lonely. Their weighty hubris crumbled mass, ticking through time's hourglass. Of all the earth a few were master, till rivalry gave birth disaster. As clouds of war did roar and rumble, the sagging sky began to tumble. Then rose two giants from the ashes. Who saved the sky, between their clashes. And grabbing hold the pillars tattered. Each the other smashed and battered. On and on the giants battled, as the blows the heavens rattled.
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Colossus both, though juxtaposed,
Titans, different each composed.
Us of copper, steel, and stone. Them of iron, flesh, and bone.
"Come" we pleaded "all unwanted". "Obey!" demanded they undaunted.
Growing ever each their powers,
striving each for heavens bowers.
At last one giant finally falls, down upon its iron walls.
Victors we, alone now standing,
all the world of us demanding.
Tower us above them all. Holding heaven, lest it fall.
As Atlas was, in ancient verse,
to bear this burden we are cursed
No other recourse can there be, none who can take this weight from we.
So here we stand, and stand alone.
The world about our ankles thrown.
At us a world with hate may cry, but on our shoulders sits the sky.
18
Coffee Rain
Coffee rain falls softly from a mocha colored sky
A jazzy wind sweeps by me
as my feet begin to fly
The drops beat out a rhythm that I can't help but repeat
Emotion that flows through me
from my fingers to my feet
Life explodes like cymbals as the whole world comes to life
Rushing puddles sweep away each worry, pain, and strife
Before my eyes flash memories
of times long lost and done
Memories of moments that might still be yet to come
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20
21
The Tree
Frozen fingers, twigs upon a tree
Oaken heart, slow and steady beat
Squirrels resting, acorns stored away
Swirls eddies, across it's roots a brook does play
Snow falls, a frozen blanket warm and white
Fall's forgotten, the world drifts into winters night
Ancient oak, branches spread to cover all
Aged tree, bent by time still standing tall
Solitary sentinel, a mountain made of wood
Creation's bastion, symbol of all good
Shining stars, reflecting down on icy lands
The Tree, through life and death forever stands
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Ink
A transformation, white to black Wet to dry, it can’t change back
A metamorphosis of sorts From paupers holes to wealthy courts
From thought to word, from mind to page From weak to strong, from dunce to sage
From worthless to priceless, from empty to filled From hidden to shown, from skill-less to skilled
From pointless to perfect, from dead to alive From ugly to beauty, from shrivel to strive From fallen to lifted, from tainted to pure
From tawdry to simple, from sickness to cure Ink flows forth to trace a path
Lines of beauty, peace or wrath Present moments carved in past
Saved for futures yet un-cast Ideas build and thoughts conspire
Imagination to inspire All that is or still might be
All that was persevered in thee Words unmeasured
times unknown All by this are simply
shown Ink
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24
Storm Towering thunderheads black as night
Purge the sky of rays of light
The slow warm breeze transforms to wind
Trees seem to shiver as their leaves begin to thin
The largest dome I've ever seen now covers up the sky
A shifting maze of balconies laid out before the eye
An indescribable feeling far too vast to be contained
Roars throughout my body and plays havoc on my brain
The heavens gaze upon the earth as clouds begin to cry
Like all the hosts of heaven looking down from up on high
The air becomes an ocean as the fire starts to dance
My mind screams "Run! Take cover!" but my heart is too entranced
The booming voice of natures almost more then I can stand
As scattered blasts of liquid light are flashed across the land
Then all at once it’s over as the final raindrops fall
A noisy stillness fills the air as birds begin to call
The sun returns to warm a land now purged of all its grime
As if to say the darkest days will clear if given time
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26
27
Seasons
Winter Frozen lakes and crystal rivers Cliffs decked out in diamond slivers Blinding white and moonlit glow Spinning hours paint the snow Drifting snowflakes fill the air Weaving coats for trees to wear Serene perfection, silent, still A void of noise that doesn’t fill Pure white blankets sleeping land Deadly beauty is at hand Autumn Orange and yellow, golden, red A thousand shades by trees are shed A floating army, billions strong The wind barks out the marching song The air is crisp and smells of frost The lack of bugs is worth its cost The world is calm the day is at its end Earth turns to sleep as slowly night begins
Spring
Daylight brightens, nighttime flees
Buds emerge on barren trees Waking creatures rise from hollows
Misty rains and downpours follow Melting snow fills surging streams
Flowers bloom for golden beams Spring is birthed in all its glory
Life beings a brand new story
Summer
A sloping hill a steady breeze A cloud filled sky and rustling leaves
A starry night a moonlit land A burning beach now cooling sand
Wisps of water froze in air Dance across the atmosphere
Shifting shadows flash and dance The world is hidden then enhanced The world is warm and all is bright
A summers day is bathed in night
28
Sleeping in the Sand
Sand sifts softly under a setting sun
Long grass lists lazily in the evening breeze
Coconuts take root in dunes, their journey done
Short trips down from swaying trees
Leather bound books lay cradled in the sand
A broken conch their only true companion
Winding down a pocket watch hangs ticking from a hand
Its owner splayed out, sleeping in abandon
Grey is the fedora, worn, perched upon his face
Perfects the moment, frozen, caught in times embrace
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Silent
Silent
nighttime sits on high
The moon
six stars,
the earth
and I
Liquid
darkness
all around
A
symphony
in silence found
Beauty
of an instant felt
Peace
as worries
slowly melt
Cool
and quiet
city air
Relaxed upon
31
a concrete stair
Sterile glass and metal rise
Glory spun
that slowly dies
Heaven’s splendor
softly falls
Down upon
these concrete halls
Mirrored structures
soaring fly
Capturing the very sky
Perfect moment
slips away
Returns again the
dawning day
Lost
forever
to the past
Forever futures
yet
un-cast
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Good Morning Moon Good morning moon and how are you? A beacon in the inky blue. Glistening crescent up on high, floating there amidst the sky. Stars surrounding near and far, illuminating all you are. Softly down cascade your beams, warming gently waking dreams. Spinning in the vaults of space, cosmic clockwork marks your pace. Time itself your passages schisms, into months beneath your rhythms. Oceans ebb and flow in time, to the measures of your rhyme. Lifeless yet your faces change, as you through the heavens range. Good morning moon and do you know? How many see the light you show.
34
Life
Life is but a given day
A moment till we pass away
For what we are is not what we've been
It's what we're now and will be then
And though too quickly we may fade
The world by such as us is made
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On a Stair
Pinecone lying on the stair Every other step is bare
Buildings soar on every side Deep within them people hide
How was it you came to be On a stair across from me
All around me lifeless stone Glass and metal make their home
Skeletons that brush the sky Marked and measured weighed and tried
How then is it you appear In he midst of all that’s here
Calm, collected, there you lay Peacefully as if to say
Build your greatest, do your best Work unending, never rest
Make you man your grandest thing But still it life you will not bring
And yet a pinecone on a stair Can live and climb the very air
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Continued in . . .
Human A
weaving of words
Part the II
By: Caleb Alan Kestner
http://www.aweavingofwords.blogspot.com