Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)
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I am my father
in little things I see his hand
A phrase once received
turned as my own, I now understand
Rebellion in my youth
to find my own path I took a stand
Only to find later in life
my father was always beside me, holding my hand
Stoic Poetry
Recalling all the tribulations in our life
The constant struggles, pain, disappointment and strife
The battles too often lost and too seldom won
Always forgetting the places where we began.
As we push, toil, tarry and try to carry on
Neglecting the foundation we have built upon
Forgetting the values of a human heart
Paths we have trodden to gain worlds apart.
Now our memories fade, as we grow old
So many stories to tell, some are never told
The past is but a gift that we forgot to give
To lives we have touched as we strove to live.
In our final days, our souls long for home
Drifting refrains of a forgotten song
Of hearts entwined, in the worlds face we frown
Husha, Husha we all fall down.
Stoic Poetry
Original Art by Stephen Allen
One by one all things must go
to the past, forgotten as we grow
dreams of grandeur fall by the way
put aside for another day.
Time to be and time to dream
a time to plan, a time to scheme
tomorrow is another day
we put aside in lieu of play.
Too far gone to realise
how distant now the dreamed of prize
the hunger subsides as our eyes dim
the fever cools and dies within.
The death of dreams, as with all
becomes the dream, the final call
with no regrets, we are all called home
as we write the final line in our tome.
Stoic Poetry
Sailing into a grey sky morning
Seeking light above clouds
Running away to find life
Escaping what became boring
It could be worse than this
To stay and never know
Spreading wings to go
Searching for a perfect kiss
But it’s not so bad, or sad
When love is to be found
Beyond grey sky mornings
The best I ever had
Stoic Poetry
Art courtesy uf: https://artofericwayne.com
I am the force of free will
forged of desire
fate having no dominion
my path is my own
No one to blame
the immovable object
becoming unstoppable force
my actions stand alone
Fault no man
look inward for truth
your lot the fault of no other
accept who you are, never atone
Freedom to choose
never given but always taken
the path less travelled
destinies course not yet known
Stoic Poetry
Original Photography
Before the clock, before time
before we knew, and planned and worried
we simply were
Without tether, drifting free
our life, an ocean without measure
riding currents here and there on a whim
A jewelled tidal pool holds us for a while
leaving if we chose on the morning tide
joyful anticipation without direction
Nowhere to be but where we are
happy buoyant and free
no alarm telling us we must be somewhere else
Stoic Poetry
Narrow slats of wood, ticking time
step by step, gap by gap
follow the rhythm, and the rhyme.
Inside the lines, its safer here
follow the rest, stay on the map
eyes straight ahead, the path is clear.
As if on rails, locked to this course
has free will abandoned me?
maybe it’s time to revisit the source.
Beyond the boardwalk, now I will tread
free of betrayal, beguiled as friends
along my own path I will travel instead.
Stoic Poetry
Alone with thoughts
Beyond the road
Where dawn sings
Where birds shine
Bowing arboretum
Rustling a welcome
Where one is all
Where all are one
No signs in sight
To point the way
Where dawn sings
Where birds shine
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 