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Famous Stewart Stafford Quotes

“You could clone Elvis Presley and, while the clone would look identical, it would not have the utterly unique life experiences that made The King who he was. After all that time, effort and expense, the clone might choose to be a gardener instead of a singer! There's also the ethical dilemma of recreating all the genetic problems Elvis had due to his maternal grandparents being first cousins.”

Free WillCloningNature Vs NurtureEthics And ScienceElvisCloneClonesElvis PresleyGenetic DisorderThe King Of Rock And Roll
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“December is... by Stewart Stafford December is all that we give, And whatever we receive, It is those who surround us, And those who have taken leave. December is celebrating light, Where only darkness dwells, It is the ripping of wrapping paper, And tempting culinary smells. December is letting go, Of all the past year's fails, And starting anew in January, As time again chases its tail. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

TimeFamilyPoemChristmasPoemsNew YearDecemberJanuaryChristmas SeasonWinter Poetry
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“Inciting Justice by Stewart Stafford They stretched his neck out, On the noose of his ancestors, Bloodied and tattered, he died, No invader fealty in martyr veins. The rope, a country's pendulum, Faces of stone from onlookers, A witch-hunt's hysteria spreads, Mourner's rain fell with temerity. A snowball in a regime's eyes now, Is the next day's roaring avalanche, More then take up arms to fight on, And raise the oppressor's gauntlet. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

FreedomPatriotismRebellionRebelMartyrMartyrdomRebelsMartyrsDying For Your CountryDying For Your Beliefs
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“Quietus Interruptus by Stewart Stafford I've just seen a live mugshot, A home intruder demands I know, Crack out knuckle-dusters or mace, Miscreant justice cold and slow. Should I invite him in to breakfast? Serve rich Eggs à la Pepper Spray! Thump him with my coffee mug, To end this castle siege for the day. An amateur matador from this bull fled, I see frosted breath in a neighbour’s garden, Shirked his curtain call in a magenta dawn, Not even a disingenuous “I beg your pardon!” © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

CrimeDark HumorSelf DefenseSurrealismTrue StoryPsychological ThrillerRobberyBurglaryHome InvasionNoir Poetry
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“Stafford’s Law of Irreversible Entropy states: A system that achieved a perfect champagne alignment in its own era cannot be shoehorned back in once the environment has evolved or degenerated beyond it. This is the Staffordian Duality; it is immaterial whether global prospects improved or deteriorated; it only matters that the metric mirror of the past no longer reflects the current modern sinkhole. The most overcrowded vessel is the one that sails on the golden sea of memories.”

PhilosophyTimeMemoriesNostalgiaInflationEntropyLiving In The PastMonetary PolicyEconomics Impermanence
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“The Ballad of Harry Lime by Stewart Stafford Harry found existence overrated, And its shadow, morality, so outdated, Scurrying rats down here in the sewer, Porcine gluttons in punished manure. Grand aspirations from primordial slime, Lifting up the rock from time to time, Samson, destroying a temple of hypocrisy, And every pillar - hope, faith and charity, They'd had him from baptism's font, Trapped before wording his wants, A heel dipped in brackish liturgy, Silent collusion in mass duplicity. For those who remained in smoky rubble? Rudely awakened from a cocoon bubble: An obelisk erected to grotesque finance, Charon’s fee for a Stygian dance. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

MysteryCrimeCorruptionSymbolismNoirDisillusionmentAntiheroOrson WellesThe Third ManHarry Lime
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“In Absentia by Stewart Stafford Marbled mirror's stubbled face, Hollow grimace back at me, Each line a verdict crease, From a rigged jury decree. Denial's chant, the siren's call, Dared me to climb meeker backs, Those perps and their victims, The fading dust upon the tracks. Deep scars from a traitor's blade, Like from some coroner's skit, Staggering down memory lane, Déjà vu choking on a peach pit. Then karma's trapdoor gives, The past is not a partner sparred, Hubris's caw now a trembling chick, Wet rope creaks in hangman's yard. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

PainTimeJusticeDarkSorrowMemoryBetrayalIsolationDark HumorIrony Of Life
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“A Magic Hour’s Dreaming by Stewart Stafford Is there a sight more fair than wheaten fields, Awaiting the sun's ambush to potently ignite? Colour vibrates beyond the eye revealed, To live, dance and breathe in honeyed light. Nature’s palette, painted hues so bright, Invites the bees to sip and man to dream, Of engineered art, dazzling to the sight, Authored lightning in a celestial seam. The creator’s canvas, mint beyond decay, Invites the inner child to replenish at source, Where Nature’s staff casts shadows away, Friendships bond as a trickling stream's course. An eyeblink flash carved in history's tree, Treasured riches pooled of those by our side. For in sepia’s sunflower memory, We court the hand of an agreeable bride. Fading birdsong underscores this bottled time, In butterfly hearts, the hourglass stilled sublime. Autumn's leaves, ochre embers, curtsied fall, Farewell Summer, until roused in New Year's call. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

TimeFriendshipNature S BeautyNature PoetryGolden HourNature PoemMagic HourNature Poems Irish PoetAutumn PoetrySonnet 18
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“Same Old, Game Old by Stewart Stafford On the first day of the new year, Chronos's roulette wheel rolls, Seeing the thermometer do 60, Scraping shadows off the fridge. Teddy bear plays hide-and-seek, With a giant, grey beast that barks, And an elephant with a rainbow gut, But some things should go AWOL Dinner plate talismans bring cheer, Windfall greens and Jupiter peas, Coins tossed in an oracle's grotto, Marching into the fog of life ahead. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

TimeFutureLuckDinnerNew YearSurrealSurrealismHide And SeekNew Year S DayNew Year Poetry
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“An Aussie January by Stewart Stafford Dead air in the fallen forest, The black goat circled silently, Three hillside crosses sombre, January, warm as an Aussie winter. Boy brandishing a thin, red worm, Cheerful march on raspberry feet, Turning left at the silver potatoes, Leftovers from the gnome’s feast. 4 a.m. wind a rolling bandmaster, Whipping a flagpole cord to a beat, Tingling every wind chime around, The hibernating squirrel missed it. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

WindWeatherAustraliaJanuaryGoatAussieNew Year PoetryAustralian PoetryJanuary PoemJanuary Poetry
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“Cycle of the Midnight Ape by Stewart Stafford Janus creature of paradox, Liquid hostage of conscience, Swinging midnight's ape, On cartwheel chandeliers. This being's bender reveal — Of the existential, maddening itch, To sling aside life’s burdens, And slake its raging thirst. An anthropological anomaly, Naked in its contradictions, A déjà vu loop grinds on, This peerless hellraiser royal. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

IsolationParadoxExcessHuman ConditionSurrealismSocial CommentaryCoping MechanismPhilosophical PoetryComedy And TragedyParty Animals
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“The Reaping by Stewart Stafford Paint a nostalgic landscape today, A harvest gifted once in this way, Stranger's yields come to pass, Only that season's memory lasts. A fallow field to revisit in time, Golden reaping of a private mind, As gleaners, newcomers gather, Reminiscence thickens to slather. As the body grows old like the land, With crop circles on backs of hands, In solstice, your seed does replenish, Past where scars of life can blemish. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

LifeAgeTimeMemoriesMemoryNostalgiaLooking BackHarvestAgeingNostalgic
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“Antiseptic Awakening by Stewart Stafford See the rainbow spattered With dark blood moon juice. This creeping haemorrhage, A lacerated spectrum merged. Bruised trickles not halting, Violations in crimson stealth. Impotent, alleged lifeforms, Ashen foot-dragging below. Casually surrendered hues, The arterial strain's zenith. No colour in cheek nor sky, Bleached by antiseptic snow. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

ExistentialismSurrealismColorsDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryContemporary LiteraturePhilosophical PoetryGothic PoetryUrban DecayStewart Stafford
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“The Ticking Spiral by Stewart Stafford Man - the only creature that knows it dies, Creates structures to measure its demise. To poke and prod with hows and whys; Hours, seconds, melted candles of surprise. From booming birth; to bankrupt death, From nascent looks; to the last breath, The torch is passed to generations yet. To carry forth in a cycle reset. The ticking clock of heartbeats ends, As we say goodbye to family and friends, To return to wherever we first transcend, Time's ever-flowing river never bends. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

LifeDeathTimeLife And DeathDeath And DyingLife Is ShortRunning Out Of TimeSands Of TimePoems About LifeTime Poems
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“Time's Magpies by Stewart Stafford Time’s magpies swoop to taunt and rob, And pluck out hair and gums carefree. Opportunity and energy drained by mob, As we duel pitiless reality. The cat’s jowls swelled in uproar, His gut sags and snarls with pain. Feathery barbs of a matador, Feline fleeing to copse again. A younger cat enters the fight, Ousting the aged tom. Crown prince routs thieving flight, A proud lion of dawn's sun. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

LifeTimeBirdCatCatsBirdsAgeingTime FliesMagpiesTime Poems
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“The Larktown Savannah by Stewart Stafford Pierce the smog-shrouded end of town, A wheezing, mirthless, blushing clown, On the river, logs and sticks past me flew, Ingredients of a swirling, brownish stew. In the bait shop, the condemned crawl, A carvery pub lunch next door for all, The old cinema’s lights are long-dimmed, A long grass lion’s zebra crossing skimmed. Seagulls bomb the blustery bridge; To the water, as to sunset, the midge; An Elvis impersonator’s sparse crowd tell— Rhinestone saviour in Wharf Street’s hotel. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

Dark HumorSurrealismSlice Of LifeModern PoetryIrish LiteratureA Day In The LifeElvis ImpersonatorIndustrial DecayPenny LaneSeaside Town
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“A Martian Midsummer Night's Dream by Stewart Stafford On Mars's pristine ruddy hue, we tread, Above, stars as adamantine algae spread. Phobos and Deimos, twin moons fair, Primeval river beds form a spidery lair. Dust storms tower above dried-up seas, A vast red alien desert, shorn of trees. Oberon and Titania's gamesmanship spite, Quarrel deep in the Martian summer night. Puckish antics stir starry lovers' hearts true, As spells and dreams on tangled paths pursue. On Olympus Mons, Vulcan gods watch and scheme, Echoes of old wars fuelling plans extreme; A Wellsian tome of the tripod Martian foe, Of invasive seeds, spread to Earth to sow. In Valles Marineris, where canyons stretch away, Dead of night gives birth to coppery day. A frontier vision, both opaque and diamond clear, Magical flights of fancy on an untamed sphere. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

FantasyMagicAdventureScience FictionWar Of The WorldsMarsSpace ExplorationShakespeareanA Midsummer Night S DreamRed Planet
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“God's Grand Weather Machine by Stewart Stafford Some say: 'Send storm clouds back to sender; Into God's omnipotent weather machine.' Let them come, I say, and cleanse me, Reborn for the second time as a teen. Improvising with nature's gifted props; Perspective in motion, despite the scene, To go without sleep for fear of nightmares? Insomniac strike - we're dreamers, not the dream. Skies beyond our grasp caress down; As raindrop punctuation marks careen, Spin your watery partner on the floor, Absent of weather critics venting spleen. Thunderous applause greets our every move, Hoping lightning's ovation strikes the forest trees. We shuffle and shimmy as sky spray slicks steps, Dancing to judges' scorecards of degrees. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

Bad WeatherModern PoetryNature PoetryInspirational PoetryNature PoemNature PoemsNature Poems Irish PoetWeather PoemWeather PoemsWeather Poetry
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“The Path We Must Walk by Stewart Stafford From dust, we are conjured, And, to black hole dust, return, Greater than parts that made us, From first breath to a cremation urn. O rake the ashen cinders over, With smiling teardrops past, A speck of dust, every echo, In an inner eye, fading fast. The cheerful moon, light in darkness, A hint of blazing celestial glory, Thawing all terrestrial tension, Life's character, a remembrance story. From fleshly body to a child of light, Weather kissing an empty grave, Wilting flowers nod to obsolescence, Sentiment, memory, unharmed to save. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

LifeDeathHeavenLife And DeathMortalityDeath And DyingDeath PoemsDust To DustAshes To AshesDeath Poem
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“The Procession by Stewart Stafford Let the lighthouse of past lives, With all of the blinding pinnacles, Guide us through death's brief mists. Let the homing dirge of the piper, Move us as sleep climbs upon us, Spear of Selene cresting the horizon. Let the dawn chorus sing in tribute, To winter's carpeted, unspoiled dawn, Setting forth with a crunching mission. Let the cavalcade commence, With all that are smiling and dearest, Assembling within the celestial glare. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

HeavenLife And DeathFuneralEulogyNear Death ExperiencePast LivesFuneralsSpirit WorldElegyThe Afterlife
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“Visionaries know they can't scale intimidating dreamscapes in fear's strait-jacket. If they sail off the world's edge, it is in a freeman's glory, leaving a pioneering legacy unfettered by Luciferian coin. Those with ears turned by doubt remain the faceless crowd. It's truly remarkable how these labours of love, crafted by architects of the imagination and kissed as billets-doux into the world, continue to manifest and influence in ways they could never foresee.”

ArtInspirationFreedomCreativityCourageDreamsAmbitionLegacyVisionariesPioneer Spirit
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“The Surly Caller by Stewart Stafford Pain - stalker at my door; Resigned admission inside, Drags a chair, fills teary ducts, Drapes tingling spider's webs. Grey vista of a dreaded visit, Common or garden victim by force, Pain is the barb to candied joy; Twin-horned teasing tormentor. In rapid eye movement, we dream, It sleepwalks in my creaking room, I hear stumbling footsteps stir, Claws retract in numbing slumber. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

PainSufferingDreamsMetaphorSurrealismStalkerPersonificationEmily DickinsonStalkersSadomasochism
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“A Bloodshot Mind's Eye by Stewart Stafford Hyperventilating loudly, Feverish visions crash in, Flinching ever so strongly, A farrago of the brain's bin. Home is sadly unsweetened, Not like old Lynyrd Skynyrd's, Fell into mashed-up bananas, Looking like a lizard's innards. On a plane crashing down fast, Door closed on a switch to cars, A parachute instantly appeared, And I woke from sleep a superstar. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

DreamSleepDreamsDreamingSurrealSleepingSurrealismSurreal PoetryFever DreamDream Poetry
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“Unholy by Stewart Stafford Horrors walk from out a dream, Apparitions dare reality’s seam, Gnarly fingers excavate blame, Sanity stolen in a hellish flame. No way to think or even breathe, Or kind worldly goods bequeath, For Time’s skeletal fingers snap, Catching souls in a fiendish trap. Visions boxed, then assail again, A phantom grin is no one’s friend, Gasp out awakening perspiration, Sun falls in creeping desperation. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

DreamDreamsKarmaNightmareSurrealGothicSurrealismNightmaresApparitionsHorror Poetry
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“Good Morning Sinkhole by Stewart Stafford Lucky birdshit on my window, A split-second awakening, Another landslide out of bed, Flailing in duvet quicksand. Clawing at the walls going down, Assume precarious crab-walk position, Straining every fibre to avoid collapsing, Land ho! with a fingertip mattress grab. Steadying myself, I drag my carcass up, Shaky leg muscles gain some relief, Retake Altar of Id with a drowning sweat, Survive to face more nightmare carpet rides. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

SleepBedMetaphorSlice Of LifeWaking UpModern PoetrySinkholesRude AwakeningFunny PoetryLandslide
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“My Angel Sleeps by Stewart Stafford My angel sleeps, do not disturb, Painless and gorgeous in repose, In resting flight, I still see her, Her embryonic features now froze. Many times, she called me father, And hastened me to her side, Entwined as one, no one to part us, Now, the earth's youthful bride. Let me cast more soil upon you, To soften your final resting place, My heart's core I leave with you, To claim back when face to face. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

LoveLossSleepGriefAngelMourningGrief And LossAngelsLove PoemLove Poems
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“Johnny's Sh*temare by Stewart Stafford Amber did sh*t in Johnny's bed, She did it while he was sleeping, Right by Johnny's head. Stank awake on a mattress lumpy, He saw what Amber had left him, A hot, steaming grumpy. Browned off, he leapt to his feet, No dogs stained his manhood, Or crapped on the sheet. Now he's sued her for defamation, And they call her Amber Turd, For her reckless defecation. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

SleepDogsSleepingPoopJohnny DeppPrankAmber HeardRude AwakeningDirty JokeAmber Turd
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“When The Lights Go Out by Stewart Stafford When the lights go out, From the seeds of doubt, Phantoms come a-skittering. Slow at first, Then, as if a dam burst, My psyche starts withering. From a dune of sand, Grabs a clawing hand, My heartbeat takes to dithering. Then an immovable object, A vast shadow standing erect, My paralysis is blithering. But come the dawn of day, I can finally break away, My consciousness starts filtering. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

FearSleepDreamsSubconsciousNightmaresSandmanNight And DayLights OutFear Of The DarkSleep Paralysis
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