When Words Cease

Something is different
Something has changed
Realization; the quiet
No thought or rabble
A clarity so perfect
Nothing to be rearranged

Once it is noticed
It seems to fade away
Nothing to be held
Nothing to be sought
A background to all
No one to see anyway

Stoic Poetry

Into The Wall

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

Dark Beauty

There is beauty in the darkness
A lack of sound; nothing to see
No guidance of poetic thought
Only the purest form of clarity

Words form on pageless pages
Awaiting to see if they are born
Searching for the light of day
And not just fade in the morn

Stoic Poetry

Just A Writer

He lives inside his head
Worlds once only imagined
Through words he has said
Life is given to the pageant

The journey is given
So others maybe see
A new point of view
Of what a life can be

Everyone has a story
One that needs telling
On keyboard or in ink
Inside it is always dwelling

Write it down, tell the tale
Before it begins to fade
Releasing the demons
In silence that are made

Stoic Poetry


The Reason

Writing words rarely read
Threads from within my head
Untied knots, unraveled thoughts
Undoing lies that I was taught

Pieces of what I no longer need
Of some lost and forgotten deed
Wasted time on what I sought
Keeping the truths I have caught

Stoic Poetry


Words are planted gently
Connections made they grow
Word by word, lime by line
Knowing not where they will go

Sometimes they may wander
Randomly without a rhyme
Only to return and mingle
Ripening fruit upon the vine

Meanings can drift and fade
The writer begs your pardon
As seeds are planted gently
In his ever flowering garden

Stoic Poetry

Beyond Exhausted

I am tired, but I try
Doing the things I must
I get through the day
With all I have to give
All I want to do is cry

Still so little remains
I dig down so deep
But it is almost empty
I dredge the bottom
Trying to hide the pain

No one can clearly see
What still remains of me
No one is allowed
The glimpse inside
Of what I used to be

Stoic Poetry


I once had found the answer
Books written without a sound
In a dream it came to me
In the dawn could not be found

Letters moving upon the page
Words no longer made sense
Struggling to recall a phrase
The nighttime I struggle against

Each chance I try to go there
The place where Poetry lives
Only to see that once again
In dreams my words are amiss

Stoic Poetry

This Broken Pen

A broken man with a pen
Is a dangerous adversary
Nothing to lose
And nothing to gain

Nothing to win
And nothing to prove
Writing to survive
To rise above the pain

Words that soothe
That light the spark
Line by line
Verse and refrain

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