Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Finally, Some new Stuff.....Kinda

Okay, so anyone who might still check up on this blog (of which, there are probably none), I've decided to post a couple things today. One is a poem about the first time I went to South Carolina for college and had to say goodbye to my, well, almost fiance, and the other is a short allegory for losing one's innocence and trying to reclaim it. The reason the blog header has the "....Kinda" stipulation on it is because both of these I wrote over a year ago. Actually, I think the the short allegory might even be 2 years old. Sooooo, now you understand.

What you're going to notice about me right away is that I love love love using metaphorical language and am deeply attached to the allegorical form. I love painting word pictures so that people can more accurately understand what both my mind and heart were seeing and feeling at the time of the poem or allegory's commencement. Word choice is very important to me and, while I do my best to write good rhythm and pace into the literature, I will always favor the words that best represent what I'm trying to communicate. Very rarely do I use the rhythm or pace to communicate a subtext. Rather, I use things that people maybe are familiar with in order to relate to them better. Although, you will also notice that my poetry writing really seems to rise a few notches above my, well, normal writing I guess you'd say. That' not an accident. Like I said, word choice is important and poetry has expanded my vocabulary more than any other thing on the planet, and until you read my poetry you really haven't quite understood who I am. You may have read my other blog posts, and while they are insights into my mind and my spiritual convictions, they most certainly to not fully reveal or reflect my heart and imagination. I save poetry for this alone. I like to write some of these things because saying them tends to actually lessen their blow, and I'd rather not have that happen. I don't think any writer would.

So, here is where I'll explain both the poem and the story, if you'd rather try and figure it out I suggest you stop reading this portion and skip down to the first poetry title. Okay, so, Poem Numero Uno. The premise of this poem is a goodbye. A goodbye to the love of my life as she pulled way from my school in south carolina. In this poem you'll see just how broken I was over this. When you get to parts about the mizen, it means a ship. The ship in this case is a picture of my wonderful girl leaving in her car, on her journey. She is the jaded ruby, torn by her knowing of my reason for coming here and her feeling of abandonment and loneliness. You'll start to understand that I'm giving a picture of myself not to far after that. The water is usually referring to my tears, the trees are referring to my green eyes, the ruddy is used to describe my hair and general complexion. The hollows are my eyes. And the rest is a meditation on my decision to go down after I get finished describing my broken weeping. I go into my reaction to my own choice and how my romantic side and spiritual side were interacting. It starts off broken, moves to anger and mourning, moves to contemplation, moves to enlightenment, moves to remembrance, moves to acceptance, moves to understanding, moves to action, moves to purpose, moves to hopefulness, moves to peace.

The second is an allegory about losing one's innocence. The quick explanation of this is to understand that the house in which this person resides is actually himself....well....it's myself actually. I wrote this when I really desired to have the innocence of my youth back and what the journey from it had been like and how I really could never seem to get it back as hard as I tried. The window is actually supposed to be a backwards mirror into my own soul, seeing myself as a child. I used to think that I had to look outside to find my innocence, but as you see at the very end, i came to realize that the journey to reclaim actually lied within me. Each room's colors represent something. The first is red. In the first stage of my attempt to find my innocence again I was fueled by anger that I couldn't immediately rekindle it and in the process end up hurting myself. This led to sadness, depression, and despair, ie: my journey to the blue room. The blue represents all that and all my weeping and what I was like in that time of the journey. I then moved onto envy in the green room. Envious at that outside world and agnry at the window that I couldn't get to myself because of that window. Little did i know that the world couldn't hand him back to me. But I got tired of envying and therefore became prideful and thought I really didn't need the little boy and that I was better than that, but that didn't last for very long. My pride just led me to more self-agonizing which led me into the beginning of a vicious cycle as i entered the red room again. You'll see that at the end of several loops, I finally realize the boy is inside me and begin in there. Where the next step is, I'm just starting to understand, but I'll save that for part two, which I have yet to write. The boy is innocence. The boy is me. The boy is lost....for now.


A Love Amidst the Briars

The tears have breeched their hold, and now the word is out

My weaknesses take hold, this heart gives reign to doubt

Cemented in my far outreached, I grasp the feigning breeze

The straining takes my will to live; selfishly they’re seized.

A step alone, a step without, a step when you’re not here

Is a step taken in vanity, advancing only fear

A fear of life, a fear of love, a fear of liberty

A freedom I fought not to take. The freedom fought with me

What words to say, what air to take, what kiss for forlorn lips?

What’s this embrace, who is this face, now gone on the homeward ships?

O distant vessel, curse you’re steer, curse the abyss’s path!

But pray dear carry, do not provoke the solitude of wrath

For you, sailed housing, carry what is not to be harmed nor bated

You carry, oh most precious stone, a ruby crimson-jaded

Jaded by the this love so deep, torn for sacred purpose

Oh dear God, control the seas, thwart not Thy consummate purpose

The floods are freed without their lids, the levy rushed to rubble

I stand amongst my darkly sea of salt water and troubles

Oh curse the paradox of this obedient romancer

The hopeless portion left to drown in its own terminal cancer

Abate, abate, the cleansing sea, refine me now by fire

For I’d rather burn amongst the drops than be crushed by their weight most dire

Oh time, a wretched memory, mirror for now and past

Determine not this fate for me, turn about the mast

No! distant thing, a figure phantom, lost to the horizon

This night, this place, this watery grave persuaded not the mizzen

A solemn weep runs stoic now, trickles down the run

The trees inside these open hollows, burn amongst the sun

A ruddy form amongst the shadow, black-blue of the night

But hopeless cannot justify, nor revel in the blight

For here, I stand, from heart so tender, do I now wish it stone?

So that this path eternity-laden, can somehow seem as home?

No. No. God forbid. Take not away the chalice

I’ll drink the thing which I claimed mine. I’ll drink it not with malice.

O blessed Lord, most Sovereign God, what purposes of mine,

Could ever wax or wane against your purposes divine?

For just as You have called me here, drawn to you more nearly

I trust the everlasting arms to hold me sweet and dearly.

The musings of this murderer, this adulterer, this thief,

Cannot be said to be worthy of comparison with Thee

Just as I have seen so fit to obey amongst the briars,

Let this new beginning be the same, bid me not to tire

For she is there, and I am here, for plan not fleshly foiled

And though a distance seems as a thorn, Your healing is most loyal

Cut not the band that ties me there, break not the sacred seal

You know alone, what I can bear, sustain with Your last meal

On broken knee I take to ground, prostate and contrite

Make me meekness, make me bold, plunge me to the plight

For I’ll implore the troubled blue, I’ll question the new stakes

So I may know the morning dew, of each night’s passing wakes

I’ll sail against the cold quick blades, and let them bite and frail me

And be tossed with the varied grades, and pay the frost it’s steep fee

This be done unto the end, of love most tried; assaulted

To show the Healer’s true amends; Abundance now exalted

Make known Thyself amidst the pain, and cause the scars to smooth

So that we will break the strain, fulfill the vibrant youth

Let time to ripen the diverse dyes of coat so lovely laden

With crimson reds of love so deep, its rosen folds unfaded

For when one flesh will grab ahold of coat love labored sewn

We’ll rest in its undying warmth of love we’ll call our own

And there we’ll journey amidst more seas, amidst more edge and shadow

But this we’ll do so willingly, as we venture the unkown meadows

Together we’ll climb the mighty mountains of your own purpose and will

And at the end of each new day, we’ll hold each other still


Written By Brennan Klensch




INNOCENCE LOST


What have you done with my friends?

Where have you taken the little one?

I know he was here, and I swear I never recall taking my eyes off of him, but he just vanished.

No, he must’ve been taken.

YOU!! —Wait, there’s no one there, but I swear I just---

I have to run. I don’t know why.

At least not now.

I keep running, harder, longer, my legs and heart growing tired.

It seems so purposeless. Where am I even running to?

To him? But where do I start to look, I mean, he just vanished? How am I supposed to--?

Maybe if I say his name…no…maybe yell it…no, that didn’t help.

Wait, just then! Just then I just felt him almost! Like he was right here. He can’t be far now. So I run again.

But I find it even more purposeless.

Wait! I see him, Go to run to him, with my arms open, but, they are met with a window, I’m seeing him through a window. The window won’t break or open, I even hurt myself doing it, and I see him fall down, try to break the window, need to mend his own cut and in doing so,

I cut myself.

I tried yelling. Didn’t help. He was yelling back, we were both trying to hear each other.

Now walls surround the window, and a room with a window surrounds me. This room is red, a crimson, near black red. I look and the window is gone, but there’s a doorway on the adjacent wall.

I go through it. The room is blue. There’s the window again, and there he is outside. At this point I know not to run. I just slowly walk to the window, and I shed a tear as I look on his countenance, mourning with me, I want to be there with him. He needs protecting. I look down in my weeping, and when I lean my head back up, this window is gone, but yet another doorway on the opposite wall. I walk through; the room is green, and yes, another window. There he is. I remain where I am, scowling at the window. Not at him, at the window.

I turn my head to see if a window has returned to the other blue room….No, but, yet again, the window adorned with the reflection of green light, has now gone, and one more room. A purple room.

Now, I try and outthink the window, I walk right up to it, scowl at it up close. I’m better than this; I’m smarter than the window. But, I’ve become so busy staring down this paned demon, that I almost lose sight of the child. I become frantic, run back through into the red room, then blue, green, purple, red, blue, green, purple. I make my way across the red from the purple doorway and collapse in the blue room. I wail, and plead to an invisible someone for help. What else can I do?

But, after this, I hear the child’s laughter. I almost jump up, I see the child’s hand drag itself across the doorway as he skips through, I run to each one. He’s always just in front of me, or, is it more that he’s a few rooms behind me. Either way, at least the child’s inside, and I know I’m that much closer. But I can’t go to the windows, anytime I do, he’s back out there, looking at me. I must remain inside and search therein. I must not lose hope. I will never give up.

written by Brennan Klensch


BONUS: :)

Yes i've added a bonus, although calling it a bonus seems a bit self-righteous. However, i couldn't really think of a better word, so, here you are, the bonus is a more straight-forward poem that I wrote about 4 or 5 months ago when I stopped to think about the idea of being a daddy to a son. I'm still working on one for my daughter, whenever she may come. Here's what came out after the thought of the first.

MY SON

MY SON

O my son, my son,

What is it you’ll bring

To our hearts when, this world,

Your commencement song sings

My boy, sweet boy

Will the day ever come

When your daddy will be ready

To father a son?

To think of your face

Brings tears to my eyes

Knowing that one day

We’ll sing lullabies

My angel, sweet angel

Can you ever know

The love that I have

For you now, even so?

I think of the moment when

Lying in my arms

You look to my eyes

And you don’t see the scars

Of a world-stricken man

So young still it seems

How can this little one

Have been part of me?

How have we made

So beautiful a thing

Which now comes

Into this dark world and sings

Of innocence lost,

To a world come undone;

Such a brave song

From my sweet baby son

But no, you see not

This world as this man,

For what it may be,

You just see these hands,

That have sworn all their love

To this treasure most dear.

In this moment, for you,

There exists no fear

Oh my boy, my boy

Though this moment I feel

That nothing could breech

My fatherly seal:

That I’d give my life

For only your thought

If it meant for a day

That you would have taught

This world what it is

And this world, what it’s not

And man in his wisdom

Would by infant be taught

For they’ll see only heaven

And what life should be

In those sweet silent eyes

That, regardless, love me

My child, sweet child

I cannot foretell

Or promise

That I will always do well;

I shake at the thought

Of bringing you up

For it seems but a day

Before I was “grown up.”

I’m scared son, so scared

To do anything wrong

But I promise you this

My love is so strong

Stronger than all

My failures and needs

Stronger than anyone who’d

Dare to impede

On our sweet blessed life

Though it, undeserved be

They cannot break

What they cannot see

I have to admit

I don’t know if I will

Be the best father always

But a daddy I will

In spite of all this

That I fear I can’t do

I’m fearless when I’m there

With mommy and you

In which moment you will

Look into my eyes

Your daddy,

Who doesn’t so often cry

But I weep now with joy

For the boy I’ll adorn

With my love, as I dream

Of the day you’ll be born


Words by Brennan Klensch


Thanks for reading everyone (anyone :) )

Brennan

4 comments:

Tracy said...

In a word...stunning. I hadn't seen the first couple in some time and it was wonderful to read them again. The one written for your someday son made me cry the sweetest tears. How I love the ways God has gifted you with expression. You bless your Momma's heart over and over. Love you...

Jessica said...

Bren, I had forgotten how wonderfully you write. Beautiful, beautiful words, so full of emotion that it's nearly tangible. =)

Ian said...

To say that you have a gift for writing falls short. In truth, Brennan, you have a myriad of beautiful thoughts at your fingertips. The mere taste that these three works supply evokes an instant thirst for more! Bravo!

Brennan said...

thanks you guys, it always means a lot when my friend and family understand and encourage me, so thanks :)