Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)
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As a collective there is more concern with the past than with the present or future
Trodden footprints give comfort
Mourning for the old days, so we keep repeating errors that should have been long buried, never to be revived and relived.
We have always been at war
Amongst aberrant moments
Peace makes us nervous,
Happiest when we uncreate
The world will boil and crumble
Some will carry their signs
The words will keep repeating
With others lives upon the line
Stoic Poetry
Only curtains remain to fall
Broken words make no sound
Falling as they kiss the ground
Living, backs against the wall
Senses now bow and break
When everything is falling down
Smiles that mask the frown
Through every turn we make
Stoic Poetry
I remember standing on a broken field
With crippled wings beating the sky
Facing dogs of war with their nature revealed
And our chances passing and failing
If I could let these memories heal
I would remember you with me on that field
When I thought that I fought this war alone
When I thought that I fought without a cause
Turn the page, I need to see something new
For now my fragile innocence is torn
I will not linger on this stunted view
Like so many rabid dogs of war
Stoic Poetry
Betrayed desires, all the same
But I’m not to blame
Even though I know, I suppose I’ll show
Now I’m naked, just an animal
And what do you want?
I want to change
And what have you got, are you insane?
And I know, I can show you,
Tell me I’m the only one
Tell me there’s no other one
I was an only son.
Stoic Poetry
In this maelstrom what can I do
But face the dark hood
When my time is due
Dark horseman at my back
Stay from me!
That I may face my attack
Or shall I catch the winds tail
sailing on billowed clouds
Put you behind in this gale
On hallowed ground
Where I may fight and defend
Turning and only the wind is found
Stoic Poetry
I am the lowly one
Lowest of the low
Having very little
And needing even less
Holding to a greater good
All others come and go
Content in simplicity
Trying my very best
Am I the lowly one?
Maybe it is so
What I never had
I likely never guessed
Stoic Poetry
Wound tighter than a tin clockwork toy
key unable to turn in either direction
cheap Woolworth’s watch over wound
abused, twisted one too many times
suspended, neither gaining nor losing time.
Silence, stored tension and waiting
for the final snap, everything released
unraveling in a single glorious explosive moment
something has got to give, and when it does
I will have a front row seat to the show.
Stoic Poetry
I don’t need it
I won’t take it
Preach to me
I refuse to hear it
Scream at me
In my face
Push me again
See what happens
Louder never works
Not on me you’ll find
Push me again
I question everything
Non violence
Does not predicate
Self defence
Be very careful
A lifetime of battles
I am a Stoic, always
Reasonable always
Talk to me or beware
Stoic Poetry
I am not quite there yet, someday I may be
A shining example, of what the world expects of me
Once in I while I am angry, sometimes detached
Often a little out of sync, but I feel there is a catch
Every time I try to change, to what you want me to be
The rules you play by seem to change, so for now I will remain me
Stoic Poetry
Speak to me, that I might understand
Why not try some forgiveness?
Take my hand, that I might finally see
Be my light into the darkness
Try to find, on common ground we stand
Not the distance between us
By my side, we can finally be
As life we can openly discuss
Illuminate the differences, try to see the other side
Don’t you be the darkness of common men
Together we are more than alone
More than we have ever been
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 