The Dance

Freshest rain defines the day,
Blue as a bedroom to the dawn,
Wild for the way, the slender ray,
Yet never this light could be gone.

She said full of feelings and grace,
“The moon is just a black sky valley,”
Struck as by a hard hand on my face;
“Why do we wait so and dally.”

Swift as a stroke against the sky,
When I was young. I had the chance,
The leaves were spent with all replies,
Finding the last place to break its trance.

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


The past is not to haunt us
As much as we may have thought
But reminders of errors made
And the lessons they have taught

Maybe they are unpleasant
So we keep them locked away
Burying them down deep
But they still rise another day

Holding them to the light
To be seen for what they are
A time and place denied
Just one more battle scar

Stoic Poetry

Lay Me Down

Lay me down within the waves
Let the tide wash me away
Upon distant and rocky shores
So I may write all the long day

Roil the ocean upon this shell
Crash upon this fragile mind
To open the deep locked places
The perfect words I may find

Stoic Poetry


The things you wanted
I found them for you
Things get broken
Tears must be shed
There was never a clue

Childhood memories
Sometimes take me away
The things I hoped for
Chasing through a life
Seem silly now today

Turns have been taken
This path now is clear
Step after stumbled step
Always moving forward
Has led me here

Stoic Poetry