Here, you’ll find the stuff that Stan Stewart has created: poetry, music, inspirations, staying connected with the present moment, photography, and more.
Organized and haphazard lists strewn everywhere in my mind Overlap each other in vital fury. Crescent moons of conflicting anticipations fan out before me: They each vie for my attention And none of them win out. For right now is not when I fulfill to-do Lists. It is a time for repose Coupled with quiet […]
Shyly, he lifts the flowers out of the pouch And finds that they have been crushed by Their travels and travails. Still, they are his gift to her and so he Fluffs them up the best he can and fans Them out and holds them Lovingly before her. She knows of his boyhood wound: the
Windows color my view Of a world filled with color. To see them clearly, I must Clearly step outside. This erratic, beautiful, Natural world is truly, truly Breath-taking. And with my Breath gone, I take it in Anew. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2017 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Love. Pain. The way the woman next to me on the subway smells. The way the dead leaf wafts from the tree long after its death. Joy. Frustration. The vibrant sounds of drumming from an exuberant boy. The tiny interruptions to your one, long thought. Spent. Gained. The mild fatigue at the end of a
There is A heart-shaped Rock. We call it Our garden. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2016 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Spring arrived on schedule: March 20-something At such-and-such a time. In my head and my heart it’s still Winter, For the morning has dawned with a third Day of snow since the Spring arrived. Mother Nature knows irony too well. And she does it with gusto. Who ever said this womanly Personification would ever give
There’s a late, Spring snow falling outside. People are dealing with nuclear fallout In Japan. It seems strange how the events of The world and on my back deck Both affect me. The impact of each is profoundly Different. For I still know that it is Spring even with the snow falling. I celebrate the
The local church chimes ring out nine PM. It’s as if they are ushering in an ending, Though I usually don’t go to bed until eleven. For reasons known and unknown to me, Today has filled me to the brim. I can Take no more so far as I can tell. I am happy. I
“Change, please.” We don’t really have to ask for it. We’re changing all the time. Each moment, cells are morphing From what they were into what They will be. It’s astronomical to consider the Length, depth and breadth of the change. By this time next week, everything in you will Be new. ~ by Stan
When the mouth opens And partakes of the air about it, Anticipation fills the void. For in the song, there is no Emptiness. It is full: Of you, of itself, of the world. This song, each song, Sung by the new singer. For temerarious muscle Must move and connective Tissue alongside vocal organs Will tremble
