Poetry and other creations by Stan Stewart. Sometimes, it’s just the poem. Sometimes, it’s the story behind the creation.
You think you are entering The void, But this is a life that is Full to the brim. You may not even need To pack a bag. Everything you need will Be there when you Arrive. You just need To open your eyes and Your heart to be able To see in a new way […]
At first, it is a tiny rumble: Like the quiet growl of Warning from a protective canine. Yet it is not so much a disturbance As a natural shift to whatever Needs to happen next. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart ~ Copyright © 2013 by muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.
When you cannot explain Beauty, change, or any of a million other things And you want to explain it away with Magic or Deny it because it’s “Too good to be real”, Don’t be afraid: Approach this and all of life With simple awe And wonder. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart ~ copyright ©
My jet lagged eyes are heavy with Not knowing If they should sleep Or wake. I hold them open to Begin another day in this Distant world. It is glorious to see an Exotic land filled With its own kind of Beauty that is, indeed, Foreign to me. So I am drinking it in with
I’m melting. Not in a liquid way though, For I am also Catching fire. Azure. Not an anticipated, Fiery color. Yet natural and Fully ablaze. Azure ablaze. Looking deeply, Azure into blue into azure Calls forth the flame. The fire is perfected. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart ~ copyright © 2013 by muz4now, inc.
A soft light hovers and sways As I approach the doorway. The voice I hear Is inviting enough. Yet my mind says “no” while My heart says “yes”. I long for these two to be In tune, to harmonize and Symphonize. Both long to sing Together. For now, though, it is more of a dance.
Leaves fall in Autumn and cover the ground in layers Or beds. The top layer is dry and brittle. Touching these may cause them to crumble. Or the wind may simply lift them away to show The next layer down which is warm And misty with the former liquid life, Like coursing veins, that is now Laying
Yes. That is the answer my senses give to The question that has not been asked. No need to wait for the dramatic pause: Trying to slow the beating of my heart Is like asking a dead man to come Alive again. Yes, indeed. Unconsciously, my tongue licks across My upper lip. It might as
Under this soft exterior Lies an even softer heart. It seems to have weathered What sometimes seemed Like pummeling And sometimes seemed Like cradling. Holding on to either Never got this heart Anywhere. Face towards the morning Sun, it awakens to The emptiness of The new day, And seeing the vacant Opening, it is Filled
It’s enough to say I give my love away Too easily. Each time, my soft heart Breaks. I’m not that smart When it Comes down to stuff like Feelings. They do spike My pulse And set synapses On fire. Now with this Pharma Stash in my weary Brain, holding bleary (I guess) Expectations so Unspoken
