Brenz Poetry and Art

Brenz Poetry and Art 🍷📖 Do you really ever "know" someone. Do you open the door and peek, or do you walk in?

Do you close the door, or leave it slightly ajar?.✌️I am Brenda and this is my original poetry and art.

A FLEETING MELODYPaddling against the tidal bore,Now shipwrecked on the shore --The shores of time,A fleeting paradigm.M...
01/30/2026

A FLEETING MELODY

Paddling against the tidal bore,
Now shipwrecked on the shore --
The shores of time,
A fleeting paradigm.
My mind reaches for what was mine before,
Dreams scattered evermore.
Adrift, I search once more.
Who holds the key
That sets me free?
Once more, I hear a melody,
Drifting through familiarity,
Unlocking echoes lost inside of me.
©️Brenda K Christensen 1/30/26

There are currently over 7 million people living with altzheimer's disease. Music is a well known trigger or key, to unlock memories. Even if but for a brief moment. Music. Learn more about recognizing the signs, support, etc:
https://www.alz.org/

THE IRON SKYGreen, rimmed in gold flickering like sunlight,resting where sight begins.Eyes that change like weather,carr...
01/17/2026

THE IRON SKY

Green, rimmed in gold
flickering like sunlight,
resting where sight begins.
Eyes that change like weather,
carrying what I do not speak.

Today, the mirror gives them back in gray.
The Iron sky before the snow.
Like a bitter cold, wintry day,
blowing snow across the desert dune.

©️Brenda Christensen 1/17/26

My original poem. I did use AI to create the image based on my poem.

MUD PIESWhen I was younger,wrought with hunger,there was no supper.Side by side,into his eyes I stared--patient and unas...
01/07/2026

MUD PIES

When I was younger,
wrought with hunger,
there was no supper.

Side by side,
into his eyes I stared--
patient and unasking.
I gently whispered,
we must share.

I counted spoonfuls,
bite by bite,
dog food and mud pies
dampened the appetite.

Hunger has no loud battle cries.
Shame wears its dark disguise.
Pride has no door prize.

Two buddies learning early
how hunger and trust sound.

©️ Brenda Christensen 1/6/26

Rough sketch I made while writing the poem.

THE FORGOTTEN SOULPeering through the darknesswith the look of nothing left at all.Ungrounded gravity,balancing on the e...
12/04/2025

THE FORGOTTEN SOUL

Peering through the darkness
with the look of nothing left at all.
Ungrounded gravity,
balancing on the edge of sanity.
Unlike those that would rather be free,
living under a tree,
than in captive society.
The forgotten soul,
head bowed low,
broken and hollow.
Isolated from society,
Abandoned by humanity.
Living in the agony of uncertainty.
The man under the bridge,
the family living in the car,
we only see from afar.
In those cold waves of change
one either finds his way
or loses his way.
Life, can be as absurd
as a flock of blackbirds
amidst a whirlwind of leaves.
Rumbles of hunger
echoes like thunder.
Unkempt, windblown hair
now damp with rain in the air.
Eyes mirrored the gray darkened sky.
If only I could fly.
A storm is coming, it could be you
or it could be me
in these times of uncertainty.

©Brenda Christensen
12/3/25

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11/25/2025

THE DAY RISES

Born into survival mode
Thrust into the light
Miracles abode

The day sets
The day rises

Each breath a blessing
Each day a lesson

Everything in life
Comes with a price
Each to their own device
Each to their own demise

The day sets
The day rises

Will you be the blessing
Or will you be the lesson

©️ Brenda Christensen
11/25/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/1BVu6A7QcJ/

'Where The Heart Beats'Beyond the depths           of the skyWhere the shadows shift           and bendLingering between...
10/19/2025

'Where The Heart Beats'

Beyond the depths
of the sky
Where the shadows shift
and bend
Lingering between dusk
and the light
That moment
between the silence
and the nothing
Where you feel
those echoes
of the night.
That's
where the heart beats.

©️Brenda Christensen

My original poem.
My original photograph taken on the River Road, West of Lajitas, TX.

I've made the transition from sketching art to painting. This is my first painting and it is my original design. This mo...
07/24/2025

I've made the transition from sketching art to painting. This is my first painting and it is my original design. This moment, my deepest inner strength, resilience, and beauty.

Breath of Life
by Brenda Christensen

This striking piece centers on the sacred form of a female bust, painted in rich, luminous pinks and reds that evoke warmth, life, and emotional depth. At the heart of the chest lies a golden ankh – the ancient Egyptian symbol of eternal life – anchoring the composition both visually and spiritually. The ankh rests over the sternum like a key to inner divinity, suggesting the body itself is a temple of life, rebirth, and truth.

The breasts are stylized with swirling, vine-like tendrils that extend from the earth upward to the areolas, curling like sacred markings or energetic pathways – symbols of both nature and transformation. Below, three large, vivid orange-gold flowers bloom at the base of the composition. Their upward-reaching petals suggest vitality, growth, and beauty born of the earth and body. Tiny blue blossoms on the vines provide contrast – small but potent symbols of detail and resilience.

The background is a rich, deep indigo and navy, enveloping the scene in a sense of cosmic depth or nightfall – a space of mystery, healing, and introspection.

Together, these elements create a mystical visual narrative: the female form not just as a physical reality, but as a vessel of divine energy, creativity, and survival. The piece carries echoes of motherhood, sensuality, the battle against breast cancer, and the timeless power of the feminine spirit.

I own all rights to this photo and to the art created by me.
© Brenda Christensen

07/17/2025
03/21/2025

WHISPER OF THE WILDFLOWER

I dreamt I was sleeping, when I felt warmth on my skin, a whisper in my ear, "are you cured?"
Unable to wake up, I asked "am I dreaming?"
I must be dreaming.
I'm driving a small stick shift car.
Parked in a field splashed with wildflowers.
A young man is exiting my car.
His blonde hair caressing his shirtless back, long and lean.
Sunlight streaming through the sunroof onto my legs.
Drawn to the warmth of my legs, they were so strikingly beautiful, rivaling the legs of any dancer. Softly tanned and teased against a short yellow dress.
My long blonde hair flowing with the gentle breeze.
I could hear the distant sounds of water, like the sounds of a river babbling over rocks, when my focus shifted towards the young man.
He is coming closer and closer.
Though I cannot see his face, I realize I know this man.
In that moment, I know that we are meeting in a time, and in a life, before it was our time.
He placed a wildflower in my hair, just above my ear.
As he touched my hand, I awoke to the whisper of "you are cured my love."

© Brenda Christensen

This poem is about addiction. You can be addicted to anything. It's not always drugs or alcohol. Addiction is addiction....
03/17/2025

This poem is about addiction. You can be addicted to anything. It's not always drugs or alcohol. Addiction is addiction. 🤯💔👀💯

Deep.... down in the darkness       where the light never shinesLost in the midnight hour       longing the ravenous dev...
02/24/2025

Deep.... down in the darkness
where the light never shines
Lost in the midnight hour
longing the ravenous devour
Bound by the fire
embers of burning desire
Deep..... down in the darkness
where the light never shines
Twisted souls
of a different kind.
© Brenda Christensen

11/18/2024

BORROWED TIME

From the day I was born
I've been living on borrowed time
By your Grace, I have survived
By your Grace, I have thrived

I've never given birth
But I've watched a life leave this earth
Time doesn't wait
So don't leave it to fate

I've known joy and I've known pain
I've survived to live again
Choices are made and chances are taken
Life is not meant to be forsaken

I've cheated death more than a time or two
It's life I do pursue
Blessed and cursed with every breath
I still believe in life after death

The cards are dealt
So play your hand
Now I'm calling your Bluff
I'll be cheating death again

Come Heaven or Hell
I'm reaching through the veil
Only time will tell

Seems pretty jacked
The cards are stacked
For in the end
You always win.

© Brenda Christensen

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Dallas, TX

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