The Muse

The poet writes in dark of night,
Recounted jewels from my brow,
Through all the day and heavenly light,
Brings a new smile at new art now.

Shedding the soft note in every line,
Steal up the sermon against my time,
Before this kind sweet muse of mine,
The search for memories once sublime.

Stoic Poetry



Creation, beyond thought
Beyond the  image and word
It cannot to be communicated
It was never formulated

Often wrapped up in speeches
Never in complete awareness
It cannot be used or sold
In the market, to be haggled

Misunderstood by the mind
Without means to touch it
The sharp instrument of logic
Always misses the point

Stoic Poetry

On The Horizon

The event horizon breaches
Sunlight washing a world
Upon crystalline field’s
Frosted diamonds shine

The point of no return
As the new day breaks
For all to see; few do
The eternal cares not

One world of many, alone
Le point verge, of this one
Never to be denied or lost
Observing the point of all

Stoic Poetry

The Verge Of Sanity

Some might say it is a break
Others may call it a boundary
One we are forbidden to cross

Between the ‘normal’ world
To a place filled with unknowns
Where sanity is free to roam

Once it has been experienced
There is little reason to return
Not knowing the side or the loss

Stoic Poetry

The Greatest Lie Of All

A lifetime of building
Castles upon the sand
Never thinking about
Foundations on which we stand

Illusions of grandeur
We live our day to day
Striving further upwards
Thinking that here we will stay

Creation, born of destruction
As all things must surely fall
Yet we cling to what we know
Living with our back against the wall

Stoic Poetry


Every word is priceless
A jewel in life’s crown
So easily given and taken
Too quickly thrown around

Words can move mountains
Or bury in the deep
When silence can be spoken
Or given for others to keep

Stoic Poetry


To walk along windswept shores
Ties curled in cool wet sand
Blustering clouds drift above
Knowing exactly where I stand

I can’t fix what’s meant to be
It only hurts when I breathe
Whispers tend to crucify my mind
Ocean waves help me to believe

Stoic Poetry

Natural Gifts

While our spirits entwine with forest delights
Thoughts become gentle among natures sights
Learning to hear what life’s natures gifts are worth
Inviting us to see the wondrous beauty of Earth

As forests can stir feelings some may never feel
The subtle answers given by nature are very real
Urging us to listen to instincts we forgot we knew
Learning to walk lightly as other creatures do

Stoic Poetry

The Edge

Beyond the edge of memories 
lies a place without time
Where the ebb and flow 
are the rhythm and the rhyme

A place beyond all things
Where everything begins
To where all things return 
And endless possibilities sing 

This place most primordial
Breathes birth into the world
No past, not even a future
Where our present is unfurled

Stoic Poetry