Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)
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One blink, one heartbeat
One breath, one instant
This world, and this place
Will vanish in the distance
We take it all so seriously
It is really nothing at all
Yet we are so shocked
When we get the final call
Life can become so heavy
A struggle to stay afloat
But in the blink of an eye
There is nothing left to tote
Stoic Poetry
It used to be a small thing
A tiny street; an Irish town
Children ran and played
With laughter all around
Trees to climb; bikes to ride
Fields to roam all day long
Television was a rarety then
One show; to bed we were gone
Our world was so small back then
So big beyond the garden gate
If we dared to venture beyond
We had better not be home late
Stoic Poetry
Hallways dark and deserted
Places lived but now are gone
Ideals twisted and perverted
Things I used to rely upon
Echoes of once still remain
Ghosts break into the ‘now’
Pushed aside but never cease
Always to return somehow
They are gone but I remain
Playing out the remaining days
Living them out once again
Reflecting on the many ways
Stoic Poetry
Hurry up before you get too old
Before days grow short
When your blood flows cold
We were never meant to stay
Here and gone is so close
But we will find out one day
We’re all the same, in this game
Not one of us is special
And no one is really to blame
Stoic Poetry
The faint tolling; rolling
A little clearer; nearer
In the veil; never to fail
Days will fall; to its call
Given grace; all must face
The final bell; time will tell
And so; we may never know
Where we go; beyond the flow
Stoic Poetry
She said tell me again
How giants were among us
With memories reaching back
Before the greed and lust
Tell me of the gentler times
Of peace and understanding
Before the hunger took us
In a world far less demanding
Tell me of the love and grace
Blue skies and fields of green
Of sharing in a simpler life
Or maybe it was just a dream
Stoic Poetry
In the smallest of things
Smiles given without cause
A hello to a total stranger
Without thinking or a pause
Wrapping arms around a friend
A heart given; without a cost
Just because you wanted too
Nothing can ever be lost
Forget the movies romance
The commercials selling sex
Real love comes without cost
Only needing to be expressed
Stoic Poetry
I read a simple poem today
A short and lovely thing
It stayed through the morning
As it colored everything
The smile it put upon my face
Every time I recalled the words
Blossoms full of a voiceless joy
With words I have never heard
Such a little thing; easily missed
At a glance as the morning began
Embedded in my mind it stayed
It somehow changed who I am
Stoic Poetry
Time is a fickle mistress, stealing life,
Combing the daylight as beggars at night,
Stalking every man with a little knife,
Light from the dark door into the light.
When in a lost moment of idle fault;
I returned to the house in the dark.
The gray deal under the sun’s assault,
To see upon myself some sort of mark.
The old mirror lied within it’s gaze,
The stranger looking back at me,
Gone the vision of my younger days,
As old eyes neglect what they now see.
Stoic Poetry
One day followed the next,
And this life went on,
Endings became beginnings,
Times to be reflected upon.
Nothing was ever truly lost,
But everything had changed,
Each day was being built upon;
Shards to be rearranged.
In time, all will be complete,
Even pieces that never fit,
In this disorder of things,
In this fire that has been lit.
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 