Poetry and other creations by Stan Stewart. Sometimes, it’s just the poem. Sometimes, it’s the story behind the creation.
The place where I live is infused with Expectation and delight. It is not a common abode. (That would be all too simple.) From edge to edge, it neither Holds nor bars memory. Instead, it invites the present: Dirt tracked in by the dog, Friends dropping by with a Package (literal or not), Seasonal items
you know how when you unroll a yoga mat it tries to curl in the same direction that it was rolled? that’s what today feels like. i just want to go with the flow; or better yet: the curl. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Just for today I put the critic aside, Only offering You … And me Affirmation and grace. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright 2011 by Music for the Moment, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 64/1,000
sing to me about your sadness and about your joy i don’t want to wait any more to hear your celebration or your longing ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by Music for the Moment, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 63/1,000
On the one hand: A turn of phrase Or a phrase of turning, A twisted word Or a wordy twist: They are just words Anyway. Much better to attend To life: Grass, Leaf, Bark, Stream, Snow, Wind, Flesh, and Bone. Blink and you will miss them. The words will stay on the page. Come back
When sunlight hits a crest of snow The combination crackles with Brilliance. Does the snow or the sun know That they have created such a Wonder? Apparently not. For they each Carry on, undisturbed and Stalwart. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by Music for the Moment, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 61/1,000
Well, I can barely remember That day, now. I’m pretty sure it was a Tuesday, But I’m not even certain about that. In some ways it was literally So many years ago. In other ways, the sensations Linger like it was yesterday. It was a shocking grief And the most hollow sadness I’ve ever felt.
Being unemployed has several side-effects: Reduced income, eating away at money saved up For other purposes, and most of all — time on my hands. I kept seeing the time on my hands as a mystery to Be delved into and decided upon. Now, I realize that it is a simple gift. I had seen
In-between, there is that temperature: Frozen water begins to drip And liquid water begins to freeze. Whatever its state, the water Does not anticipate the change. It simply flows or hardens As the in-between requires Of it. As if it were an artist Responding to inspiration, The ice or fluid begins to take On the
Start now. The waiting is over. Actually, it’s been over for A long time. It’s just my body that Thought the old doldrums Were still in vogue. Catch up now with the Train that’s already speeding ahead. I must be agile, fit and young enough Still to grind the unhallowed asphalt Under my heels. Move!
