weaving of words part the iv
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ItsAweaving of wordsPart the IV
By:
Caleb Alan Kestner
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ItsAweaving of words
Part the IV
By:
Caleb Alan Kestner
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This book is dedicated to my MomWho gave me words.
Thank you.
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Copyright 2009 by Caleb Kestner.
All Rights Reserved.
2nd
Story PressMinneapolis, Minnesota
Printed in the United States
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Contents
IiiXXXX. I are . . . I am
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~12
iiXXXXI. If
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~14
iiiXXXXII. Its
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~17
iiXXXXIII. Fallen
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~18
iiXXXXIV. Ode to an Ode
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~21
iiiXXXXV. Once Upon a Time
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~22
iiXXXXVI. What happens once youve fallen?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~24
iXXXXVII. Wall~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~27
XXXXVIII. Mountain
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~28
iiXXXXIX. Who am I?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~30
iiiiiiiiiiiiiL. Pro Crastinator
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~33
iiiiiiiiiiiiLI. Blessed About the Author
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~35 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~39
iiiiiiiiiiiLII. Goodnight my Love Acknowledgments
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~36 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~41
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If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there.
Lewis Carroll
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I are shattered I are . . . I amfragment
splinterI am the cold
frozen
winterI are inferno
fire
ashesI am shackles
chains andlashes
I are heartachewailing
sorrowI am future
past andmorrow
I are hopelessweeping
sadnessI am passion
rage andmadness
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are beautyfleeting
shallowI am careless
stark andcallow
I are conqueredcringing
choice-lessI am silent
mute andvoiceless
I are teardropssoftly
cryingI am the dead
doomed anddying
I are humanbroken
grievingI am my own
endingweaving
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If
If poems were of poetry as woods were of trees
If sound were of music as air is of breeze
If joy was of laughter as hurt was of tears
If hope were courage as hate is of fear
If food was of hunger as thirst was of drinkIf taught were of learning as thought is of think
If life were of living as dead was of death
If heart was of blood as lung is of breath
If angels were of heaven as demons were of hell
If touch were of feeling as taste was of smell
If people were of right as humans were of wrong
If beauty were of souls as rhyme was of song
If give was of giving as took was of take
If words were of truth as build was of make
If this was of that as that was of this
Then the world would be perfect and all of life bliss
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Its
Peace isnt quiet; its noise you dont hear
Courage isnt brave, its pain you dont fear
Mercy isnt weak; its the strength to forgive
Hope isnt assurance; its the will to live
Good isnt perfect, its striving to rise
Honesty isnt truth; its exposing the lies
Wisdom isnt knowledge, its understanding why
Belief isnt comfort; its willingness to die
Leading isnt commanding, its serving those you lead
Charity isnt handouts; its helping those in need
Faith isnt knowing, its acting when you dont
Love isnt if they do, its even when they wont
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Fallen
By: Caleb Kestner
Falling mirror, slipping through the sky
Dead reflections, never think to question why
Spilling spirals, shattered glass evokes no tears
Greed and hatred, serving banquets of their fears
Murder Martyr, fallen people die to live
Victim Target, hearts too broken to forgive
Once forgotten, memory forgets once more
Perceptions clouded, lives wrapped up in pointless war
Hate breeds death and death breeds hate
Never ending circle, self-fulfilling fate
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Ode to an Ode
O ode thou wondrous words amaze
And lyrical lines astound
From Grecian days long lost in time
Resounds your pulsing sound
Poetic verse from days of yore
A voice that echoes still
Crash like waves on histories shore
A synthesis of will
Melodic beauty sweet and pure
The music of the spheres
Tragic pain that dares endure
The basis of our fears
The power of the mind made free
Laid out upon a page
Vision even blind men see
The workings of a sage
O ode thy legacy still stands
Though years have gone and come
The majesty of all that is
Existence's very sum
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Once upon a time: (Poetry from Photography class)
By: Myself and mmmcoffee
(Recomposed by: Me)
Once upon a time,
a time so long ago
There lived a thing called pumperfumps
that liked to stand in rows
These curious things (called pumpfs for short)
could come in kinds of every sort
Hardly old or softly new
polka dotted, pink or blue
Turquoise, yellow, short or tubby
mauve or mink or tall or stubbyWearing charms or maybe roses
on their arms or tween their toeses
They paint a quite perplexing picture
these pumpfs that come in such a mixture
Dancing, bouncing throwing ducks
(If you rub them they bring luck!)
Falling up and hopping down
Making noise (without a sound)
See them running up the tree
Then right back down (they quickly flee)Watch them roll among the flowers
Back and forth for many hours
Tossing tulips, squishing daises
Chasing stars (theyre very lazy)
And of course when days are done
to their gumdings they will runWhat are Gumdings? You may ask
Answering thats mmmcoffees task
Gumdings are things very hard to explain
Theyre totally different but all still the same
Theyre kind of like beds and they smell really sweet
They have nice looking hands for the rubbing of feet
Gumdings are spun from big sugar canes
And they all smell like brownies if ever it rains
But enough about Gumdings
lets us move on
To talk of a frog and a small pumpf named Ron
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The frog was tiny (about 50 pounds)
The pumpf was squishy (and incredibly round)For something named Ron it made quite a weird sound
Ron what a word
Its amazingly flatIt sounds like a monkey
That looks like a hatNow a Ron thats named pumpf
Or a pumpf that named RonAre interiorly different
(Except for in song)
When explaining them both
Or explaining them one
You must start at the start
And go till your doneNow the problem with me
(As you well may not know)
I forgot where I start
And dont know where to go
So explaining them both
I could never well do
And explaining them one
Is a big problem too
Theres much more to write
But I fear I must quitFor the rest of this poem
Was quite lacking in wit
In our rush to waste time
We both overextended
So the half a page left
is too much to be mendedSo with that and with this
Ill now call it a day
Ive re-said what I said
And Ive naught left to say
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What Happens
OnceYou've fallen?
What happens once you've fallen?
What happens once you fail?Success no longer possible
your heart in shame is veiledWhat happens when you've given up
and ceded to your fears?When hope fades like the morning mist
and pain transforms to tears.What happens when you lose the fight
and know you've lost much more?When the battle finally gets you
in this never ending war.And how are you supposed to cope
when you know it's all been lost?When you pay the price for what you want
and it isn't worth the cost.
Where do you go or turn towhen the world has turned on you?When all you've givens not enough
and there's nothing more to do.You recognize that all will fall
though each in their own way.You stand with calm assurance
that they've not yet won the day.And though it seems that all is lost
and hope itself has fled.As long as you've the strength to rise
redemption isn't dead.
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Wall
Once upon a midnight dreary
Came a traveler wet and weary
His cloak was sodden through and through
Upon his feet more holes then shoe
The road was rough the ground was stony
The man was thin and rather bony
Then all at once the road just ended
His journey stopped his quest suspended
A giant wall stood in his way
As tall as night as long as day
So there he sat to ponder and wonder what to do
To pass this insurmountable obstruction of his view
There was no wood within this wall, nor brick or rock or steel
For it was made of stronger things then those material
This wall was made of all in life that strives to make you fail
Of pain and lies and hardship of dead and rot and stale
At first the man was locked with fear immobilized by shameA thousand things that hed done wrong all rushed to fill his brain
Then as he sat there shaking a shudder shook the wall
Its surface started cracking and chunks began to fall
Then with a sigh of effort the man rose to his feet
Hed come too far and worked to long to let himself be beat
So with a mighty crash the wall did rend its self-apart
And the man strode once more onward through the walls now broken heart
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Mountain
Wrinkled stone sags gently down the mountain's aged face, tufts of snowy hair
stream down his craggy chin and pool softly at his feet
Cavernous lungs pull moist air in through limestone teeth and moss-lined nostrils
to feed his golden veins
All across the mountain a cloak of life blooms and flourishes, entire lifetimes
cascading in and out of existence between the beats of his heart
The mountain sleeps; a giant who dreams of far off places and tells himself that in
a moment he'll rise from the cradle of his birth, stretching out the ridges of his skin
and the granite peaks of his spine
In a moment his eyelids will crack open with a rumble, pine tree lashes fluttering
as he looks with sliver eyes at the world for the first time
In a moment he'll shake off the residue of his creation and with thundering steps
go explore this place that gave him life just moments before
In a moment he thinks to himself as his heart continues its steady beat
In a moment he thinks as he slips slowly back into his dreams
In a moment, as all around him life rushes on
In a moment
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Who am I?
Who am I? I wonder.and whence from have I come?
What is it Im doing?
and when will I be done?
Where to am I going?and when will I arrive?
What for am I living?
and what for should I strive?
What is it Im writing?and have yet still to write?
What is it Im fighting?
and have yet still to fight?
When will true love find me?and how then will I know?
Where is love to lead me?
and will I dare to go?
Who am I affecting?and whos affecting me?
What then is my blindness?
and what is it I see?
What have I to finish?and what have I to start
What was it that made me?And brought to life my heart?
Who am I? I wonder.and what will be the sum?
of all that Ive accomplished,when at last my time has come.
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Pro Crastinator
Yet again behind I scramble
Even my mad dash an amble
Moments left I still waste timeSpinning pointless bits of rhyme
Always later I endeavor
Striving then, achieving never
Running just to keep from movingMaintenance consumes improving
All again commitments makingEver then again them flaking
Of the future ever dreaming
Time betwixt my fingers streaming
Late and lacking deadline loomingMe myself I'm quickly dooming
Always just a moment more
Till the effort I endure
Until there is no time to wasteMy hands lethargic move to haste
Wishing that I could better be
and cure these faults that lie in me
Hoping that I might find someway
to work before the final day
But as I wish and hope such things
time flits away on gilded wings
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Blessing
I pray for Gods blessing on all that you do
Clear sight for your eyes and a path ever true
I pray you accomplish each task your soul gets
Content with your work when the sun finally sets
I hope for your dreams that youll always aspire
That you still feel Gods presence though the times may be dire
That you live every moment and spend every day
That you hoard up lifes treasures then give them away
I pray for you safety until you return
That you grow from lifes lessens and teach what you learn
Remember that while you may be far from here
Through the memories you leave you will always be near
And as time marches on of this always be sure
The love that you give will forever endure
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Goodnight my love
Goodnight my love its time to sleep
and leave the world behind
To free yourself from all lifes pain
and clear your burdened mind
Goodnight my love its time to sleep
and rest forevermore
To fly beyond the gleaming stars
and dance on heavens floor
Goodnight my love its time to sleep
the angels wait for you
Youll never be forgotten
for the life you lived was true
Goodnight my love its time to sleep
your work at last is done
And though the day is finished
the dream is just begun
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About the Author
Caleb Kestner was born on his birthday and has been himself ever since. He iscurrently residing where he is and will most likely stay there until he goes somewhere
else. He, like most people, never reads the parts of a book that start with Preface,Afterword, Introduction, Foreword, Acknowledgements, or About the Author. Therefore
he has decided to not waste his time and will instead provide you with an excerpt fromEbenezer Cunninghams On the Electromagnetic Mass of a Moving Electron It is
perhaps worth noting that "the principle of relativity" propounded by Bucherer in thePhil. Mag. of April 1907 is in essence identical with the statement made in the beginning
of this paper. The principle referred to may be stated thus : that in the sequence ofelectromagnetic phenomena the giving of an additional uniform translational velocity v to
the whole system of electric and magnetic bodies will not affect the phenomena observed
if this velocity v is at the same time given to the observer. The transformation of spaceand time variables mentioned above shows a means of explaining this dependence of theelectromagnetic phenomena on relative motion only; and conversely it is a comparatively
simple matter to show that it is the only means. For it is required, among other things, toexplain how a light-wave travelling outwards in all directions with velocity C relative to
an observer A, may at the same time be travelling outwards in all directions with thesame velocity relative to an observer B moving relative to A with velocity v. If at this
point you are still reading you are to be commended (but probably wont be), unless ofcourse you skimmed to the end, realized that at some point Id begun writing again and
just backtracked until you found where Id started up again. In that case you should beflogged for blatant disregard of superfluous-section-of-the-book reading etiquette (but
probably wont be). This is Calebs first literary work and like most of his endeavors isthe result of many years worth of seemingly endless effort and consternation that came to
a rapid conclusion about a day after he actually started working on it. That being said,much effort, time, thought, and most importantly inspiration, went into creating this work
of words and he would be remiss if he didnt acknowledge the many manifold minds whohelped him along the way. Please turn the page. Unless the you just skipped down to
this point to see if the discussion of electromagnetic electron masses went all the way tothe end, then you should go back and work your way through like everyone else. If I can
take the time to copy and paI mean, write it you can take the time to read it!
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Acknowledgments
First off let me just say if I forget to mention you, its probably because youdidnt matter enough for me to remember, no Im sure you matter . . . to someone ;P.
Honestly though, Im only going to focus on people who effected, influenced andinspired my writing (that I was able to remember, ok, ok, Ill stop). Anyway here goes,
thank you with all that I am for all that youve been.Joanna for being the rubber wall I could bounce my concrete ideas off of. Jill for
believing I could measure up to my imagination, and in doing so giving me theconfidence to try. Jeremiah for being a porcupine patch farming communist and the
perfect devils advocate. David N. for getting paper cuts. Natalie for the magnificencethat is The Duo!. The Joshness for believing our genes combined can conquer the
world! (Provided yours dont by osmosis.) John for being an outgoing, hilarious,
musical genius, so that I didnt have to, and could just use you. James for wanting toread my stuff more then I wanted to write it. Molly for proving that Disco isnt dead.Nathan for being a Kestner (seniority or not). Josh Anderson for moving up here, getting
five jobs, and giving me all the money so I can kick start my writing career (wink, wink,nudge, nudge). Dayna for being so agreeable when it comes to disagreeing. Naomi for
being the smartest person I know . . . who thought Canada was a state. Ben for giving metwo nephews and another brother. April for buying this book (on the off chance I ever
find away of selling it to you). Marcus Dee, you better get your butt moving and starthanging out with me so Ill have something to mention in vol. 2. Raquel and Aunt Betsy,
how could one not be influenced by you. Cheri for the support and affirmation, now, andas far back as I can remember. And for creating a family as awesome as my own
(Keitzells forever!). Calli for giving me somebody to confuse. Rachael Metcalf-Bernard,for commenting, encouraging, and being Metcalf. The OConnor Clan, and all the other
Kestners (including the honorary ones) for giving me a legacy to be part of. Finally, andmost importantly Mary Jane and Kevin Jay, not only are you the reason I exist, youre the
reasons for my existence. You are all that I am, and all that I aspire to be. Dad you arethe greatest user of words I know, but even if you werent youre strength of character
gives more worth to youre words then the most brilliant of wordsmiths could ever hopeto achieve. Youve shown me ways to use words that I never dreamed were possible
(most of them probably shouldnt be). You are the giant upon whose shoulders Imstanding. Mom, Dad may have given me something to aspire to but you gave me
something to aspire with. Every great achievement in my life is built on the foundations
of your efforts. You have poured more blood, sweat and tears into my life then any couldever dare to hope for. From the very depths of my soul thank you. And thank you onceagain to those mentioned, unmentioned and to be mentioned. This Oscar means the
world to me, oh wait crap, wrong speech.
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Its Over!
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Seriously, thats it I didnt write anything else for you to read.
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Why are you still here! I told you theres
nothing else. Go away!
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Ok, you know what, fine, keep flipping pages,I dont even care.
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