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

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

The Rabbit Hole

Is there a right way for how this goes?
You have your friends, along with foes
Wanting a piece of what you’ve sought
Forgetting your name like they forgot

Some want to see you crash and burn
And they criticize every word you sing
I’m trying to keep from going insane
Isn’t that the way of this whole damn thing

Nobody will hold your hand to guide you through
It has always been up to you to remain true
Nobody can ever truly feel another’s pain
Too often just something else to feign

Today, you should say all you have to say
Is there a right way for being strong?
Still, most are just here barely holding on
Feeling like they’re doing things all wrong

Confess my heart and forgive my wrongs
If not you then who’s left when it has gone?
When all is done, and it’s time to fade away
Don’t point the blame when you can’t find a way

Look at yourself and you might find something
It’s time that we finally get this sorted out
So listen very closely to the sound of your soul
And forget all of the things we complain about

Stoic Poetry

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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

Seeds

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

No One Can Explain

They say they know
Maybe they really do
But when they explain
Something is always lost
Between me and you

Experience is personal
It is one of a kind
In the simple telling
Words cannot convey
A truth you may find

There are many teachers
Who promise true reality
They share the words
Promises of awakening
Yet we remain in duality

Stoic Poetry

Talk

We talk, and we talk
While nothing gets done
The steamroller of dreams
Flattening any that rise

No aberration, no ripples
Levelled and boring
Fitting a mold they made
No matter how hard we try

But we must always try
The very best that we can
Because I have to believe
There is a forgotten plan

Stoic Poetry

The Writer

Breathing life where there was none
In a world of creation
The story grows page by page
Deepest sorrow, highest elation

Chapter by chapter, line by line
Showing what this chaos means
Late at night and early dawn
Arranging words upon the screen

Now nearly finished, take a break
The final words still to be penned
The hero may yet win
That all depends

I will write until it is done
The deadline is close; so is the sun
What started as fun, now so serious
Waiting to be read by everyone

Stoic Poetry