Here, you’ll find the stuff that Stan Stewart has created: poetry, music, inspirations, staying connected with the present moment, photography, and more.
When friends trust me with their darkest secrets, I’m always amazed. It’s as if a whole world is opened to me That never existed before. Tremendous and minute, these worlds Are as precious as if they Were mine. I hold them so and do not Discuss them in poetry. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © […]
(I don’t count on it Though it’s always true:) In the dim light of Early morning, You grace my world Again. Though the radiance Outside is not yet full, My insides are illuminated By a dazzling Daylight. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2010, 2016 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
peel yourself off the ceiling ‘cuz i’m sealing the deal i didn’t have time to write all the good stuff that came to mind all those times with the silly rhymes rip off your smelly socks so i can say something or someone was naked let’s get past the smoulder and smoke and burn with
“We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.” ~ Kahlil Gibran I am stuck between two choices (or so goes the story in my head). With a tiny nudge of affirmation From you, I am reminded that I have The power to choose And so I do. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright
You are an extraordinary woman. I am confounded both by your depth of self and my sometimes-present incapacity to observe your depth. How do I sometimes mistake your wonderfulness for a dig? My ego. My self-protective desire to build myself up and to be seen as someone worthy and equal in your eye. Foolish motivation
I know you want an answer And you want it now. Well, I’m just not ready. Or if I must be ready, Then I can only offer a “Just maybe.” Yesterday, I had a plan and There were times when I thought It was working. Today, while having what I first took to be regular
It’s always essential And not always easy to remember: This morning, I recall it and Give thanks. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2010, 2015 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music. Soren Kierkegaard I smell something in the air. It’s sweet and bitter at the same time. There’s a deep familiarity And a
You do things your way and I do things mine. Not by design. This is just the way it is. It’s not simple, but not really complex. Maybe it will remain a paradox for all time. You get your work done just as I do. Yet the ways we get there bear No comparison at
That tired place behind my eyes Has started. My neck is sore. You always remind me not to Crane my neck forward. Each time I shift my consciousness I notice that it’s craned again. It’s been another long day And we each share The accomplishments and Concerns that are with us After sunset. It sounds
