Poem : Fly
Immature osprey Learning how to fly Lands in a treetop
Music, Poetry, and More
Here, you’ll find the stuff that Stan Stewart has created: poetry, music, inspirations, staying connected with the present moment, photography, and more.
My idea of a great birthday
Sunday was my birthday. I could have chosen to make it special by doing something completely different from normal. So, I did and I didn’t. I started my morning off in the usual way: coffee and a morning meditation. It was normal. Which made it special. I realized that I’m doing so much of what I’ve
Poem 0189: Family
There are ever-expanding Circles that I am part of. Some encompass just you and me. Others? The whole race. I long to be part of that more Giant whole and often sense The grace in that. Other times, that global circle Is too much abstraction and I long only to join with you In mutual
Poem 0188: Love’s Object
What happens when A heart is filled With longing But its object Is nowhere To be found? ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2012 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 188/1,000
A Poem – Rush (“the rapids”)
Rapids rush downstream, much as a life Does. Fleeting and flowing at each different Turn. Neither fleet nor flow pauses much Except When it gets caught in the boundaried edges of Channel And shore. There, it swarms in eddies of swirl and Even Backwards currents. No longer — for the moment — Hurling And hurtling
Poem: September
Seriously, I know it’s not September. It’s just that September cannot come soon enough. This Summer heat beats down on me. My flesh is damp in response to the roasting I’m receiving, and yet, is not nearly cooling enough. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t relish the idea Of being that much older. My birthday
Poem 0185 of 1,000: suggestion
Just a suggestion: Maybe just for a moment You could smile. Doesn’t matter if it’s On the inside or the out. I am simply knowing that The lack of smiles is Making my insides sad. With this poem, I profess That the rest of this day Will be one big smile Of love for the
jazz poem 4
The bass player’s fingers are doing A tiny, delightful dance; Rollicking and frolicking under The soloing ivories. He knows how to find The rhythm and pitch that Blend to perfection; Interweaving interplay. Far from the dance of two Left feet: this is the spontaneous Movement that flows from soul To soul – his, yours, mine, ours.
Poem 0183 of 1,000: icy rain
When warm (Or even temperate) Rain raps on the roof, It provides a reassuring Rhythm that soothes. When Winter-chilled rain Taps it’s icy fingers on Window panes, It does not soothe nor Reassure. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
An Improv Poem: stillness
I drew stillness From The Deck. Her avatar? A peace sign. Right now, I think my Avatar is A race car. Zipping ahead Without thought For the energy Being consumed Or the loudness Generated. And all this Speed and combustion And noise Is doing so little to Improve on what Was already Here. ~ spontaneously