Through The Cracked Window (Revisited)
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Hurry up before you get too old
Before days grow short
When your blood flows cold
We were never meant to stay
Here and gone is so close
But we will find out one day
We’re all the same, in this game
Not one of us is special
And no one is really to blame
Stoic Poetry
Time is a fickle mistress, stealing life,
Combing the daylight as beggars at night,
Stalking every man with a little knife,
Light from the dark door into the light.
When in a lost moment of idle fault;
I returned to the house in the dark.
The gray deal under the sun’s assault,
To see upon myself some sort of mark.
The old mirror lied within it’s gaze,
The stranger looking back at me,
Gone the vision of my younger days,
As old eyes neglect what they now see.
Stoic Poetry
One day followed the next,
And this life went on,
Endings became beginnings,
Times to be reflected upon.
Nothing was ever truly lost,
But everything had changed,
Each day was being built upon;
Shards to be rearranged.
In time, all will be complete,
Even pieces that never fit,
In this disorder of things,
In this fire that has been lit.
Stoic Poetry
As rain falls gentle on the field,
Stood by a door with the two windows,
Almost for a moment I had to yield,
Day for the time, night for the morrow.
A star that shines through curtain before,
Has looked like the last night in my life,
Laying with my head up on the floor,
Dumb with an earthly breath of strife.
Looking at the old dust before the sink,
And there you have the theme of the night,
I think the thing I most deserve to think,
In front of the fire in warmth and bright.
Stoic Poetry
Do they really matter?
Falling onto the page
The thoughts of only one
May to others enrage
But I am just a poet
And words are my trade
Nothing was ever meant
By what I may have said
Language is a funny thing
Interpretation even more
But behind my trusty pen
Still mightier than a sword
Stoic Poetry ☺️
I would fight on for you
Through fire and flood
When all is said and done
What is a heart without blood?
Braving blows in silence
Rarely a word being said
Steadfast in the journey
Bleeding to know I am not dead
The sum, more than the parts
There is a value cherished
As the storm will break
And we will never perish
Stoic Poetry
I ruled the world,
Mine to do with as I pleased
Boundaries were laid
Seen as walls to climb
Pulling at the stones
I tore them down
They begged me to stop
Leaving the rubble behind
I piled them high
Building my own
Building empires
That no one else could find
Now I look out at
Those begging to enter
But the gates are closed
Protecting me from my kind
Stoic Poetry
When truth parts the draped veil
Combing the daylight for signs
Marketing another year for sale
Waiting to sign on the dotted line
Standing the ground, a last stand
Long life bent the broken man
Came the fire to break my hand,
They’ll get you in the end if they can.
Stoic Poetry
Walk with light in a darkening world,
Day’s sorrow with her secret smile.
Looking up to the blush of the sunshine,
Open up my dimmed eyes as I walk a mile.
Wearily they looked, without a care,
Youth’s early smile born of ripening fruit.
Wield their dark boughs to the virgin air,
Life grown of cruel moments near its root.
Gazing upon it with an anxious sigh,
Read the blue heavens with naked eyes.
The homage to men, each sun must die,
To smile, in the light of distant skies.
Stoic Poetry
Curtained rain washing yesterday’s dirt
The last barren snow laid to final rest
Swift as a dew from the window at night
Every star slipping across the wet canvas
Everything goes so small without the light
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 