Unremarkable

Never going through the motions
That would be a waste of time
Giving it all to everything
And no one can see the signs

There is no reward sought to find
Just making his way in the world
Always giving gratitude
In silence without a word

There are many unsung heroes
That we pass along the way
Many things we will never know
Others go through every day

Stoic Poetry

The Becoming

Falling into the becoming,
one with the stillness.
Only a mere reflection,
of the drowning.

Hiding the pretending,
that is not mine.
Surely, we are all living,
for something else.

Stoic Poetry

Windy

Has the wind blown too hard
In times that weren’t in the cards
Did you struggle too much
In everything that you touch

Were the lessons learnt too hard
In that lousy hand of cards
Was the plate served too much
With nary a soft gentle touch

But you have played fast and hard
When you traded up those cards
Turning life into so much
With your gentle Midas touch

Stoic Poetry

Regrets

There have been times I have been lost
Never once stopping to consider the cost
Others I have been ahead of in the crowd
Always looking back and bragging aloud

Never did I stop once to think much about
Ones who truly needed a way to get out
As I left them all far back in my wake
That to help them just how little it would take

Stoic Poetry

The Weary Wanderer

I came upon a sad man,
walking along the road,
I asked him where he was going,
and why the heavy load.

He looked at me with tired eyes,
burdened by his fate,
said he was seeking solace,
from the weight of life’s debate.

We walked together silently,
the road stretched on and on,
sometimes the heaviest burdens,
are the ones that can’t be gone.

Stoic Poetry

The Cure

Raw sterility assails senses
Bleached of an outside world
Entering, virus within virus
Nature flexes and unfurls

Try to kill what lives within
Alien chemicals wield death
The lesser of two evils fight
Only to give one more breath

Quality is rarely in question
But alive claims the battle won
Cures worse than the disease
Cost and pain are often one

Stoic Poetry

The Garden

There is a hidden path
Beyond the secret garden
Walking during a fever
My delirium lit the way

People I have never met
A place so strange itself
Beings with others faces
Everything, bright and gay

Morning broke, as did I
This path was left behind
I returned upon my bed
Even as I wanted to stay

Stoic Poetry

The Grail

The space to consider, without a sound
Infinite possibilities, where creation abounds
Sitting in silence, the freedom to explore
A place filled with rooms, without any doors

This place is a refuge, I would invite you in
But no one else can enter, the depths here within
For light floods this place, let the outer world pale
As I sit here writing, alone in my Grail.

Stoic Poetry

The Dance

There were times, as there always are,
Times to recall Autumn’s farewell.

Golden leaves drifting down,
Whispering tales of time.

A farewell to old friends departing,
Their laughter fading upon the wind.

And we await our turn to join them,
In the dance of falling leaves.

Embracing the inevitable,
As life and death entwine.

Stoic Poetry

The Trip

It has always been a one way journey
From the beginning to the end
There are very few to show us
Upon even less we can depend

There were never any signposts
And precious few to show the way
When we did no-one would listen
When so many chose to stay

Scattered along the wayside
The souls who thought they knew
Some who never left that place
And those who have lived are few

Stoic Poetry