Ink A

weaving of words

Part the I

By:
Caleb Alan Kestner
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Ink A
weaving of words

Part the I

By:
Caleb Alan Kestner
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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

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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 13

Straight Jacket ~ Anonymous 14

Atlas 1 ~ Anonymous 16

Atlas 2 ~ Anonymous 17

Rain ~ Anonymous 19

Winter Oak ~ Lynnette Henderson 20

Ink Splatter ~ stockphoto.com 23

Storm ~ Anonymous 27

Snow Scene at Shipka Pass ~ Commons 26

Autumn ~ Commons 26

Fulmur Falls ~ Commons 26

Zion Angels Landing View ~ Commons 26

Beach ~ Anonymous 29

Cityscape ~ Anonymous 30/31

Moon ~ NASA 32

The Past ~ Cole Thomas 35

The Present ~ Cole Thomas 35

Romantic Landscape with Ruined Tower

~ Cole Thomas 35

Pinecone ~ Anonymous 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
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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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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.
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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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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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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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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
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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
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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

symphony

in silence found

Beauty

of an instant felt

Peace

as worries

slowly melt

Cool

and quiet

city air

Relaxed upon
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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.
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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