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Famous Stewart Stafford Quotes

“Scientists discovered that 82% of subjects tested for COVID-19 in a study had a Vitamin D deficiency. That makes sense. Exposure to sunlight creates Vitamin D in the human body. Sars-CoV-2 is closely related to the bat virus RaTG13 and other viruses in bats, and they live in deep, dark caves and usually only emerge at night. The lack of Vitamin D made those subjects physiologically similar to the natural host (it's alleged COVID mutated in some unknown vector into a more virulent form) and created ideal conditions for zoonosis to occur.”

“Ground Zero by Stewart Stafford At the rim of the abyss, Among the malignant smoking rubble, And the plane and body parts, The traumatised rediscovered their purpose. In a moonscape of fallen pride, identity, and ambition, The anonymous saved something of the unsalvageable, Searchers with sandwiches and coffee in the toxic dust, Manna from Good Samaritans with unconditional gratitude. As the lungs struggled to take in air, The hearts of each participant enlarged, And found shelter in non-partisan synergy, Becoming a family of former strangers. The lesson of the lost was to stay loving and open-hearted, Not turn away and isolate from life and others, Even when the scars became unbearable, Their stolen affection remained a towering beacon from the ruins. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

“Lazarus Saturday: The Longest Way by Stewart Stafford 'Lazarus, come out!’ said Jesus: A dead man awoke in a burial place, wrapped head to foot on a stretcher; He shook the cloth away from his face. Four days dead; his soul had gone. Tongues lashed the Saviour’s tardy arrival. The Lord, resolute, could overrule death — From the afterlife came his survival. From white-light end to darkest revival, life surging back into decomposing flesh. His chest burned as it rose and fell, bloated and blotchy skin, alive afresh. Lazarus struggled to breathe the dusty air; His body was freezing, deathly pale. At first, he thought he had gone to God; Until his friend parted the ultimate veil. Shuffling stiffly toward the cave mouth, newborn-blind to this second life, The Disciples rushed to unwrap him, His sisters embraced him as a bachelor's wife. Lazarus longed to tell what he had seen, forbidden to impart it to mortal ears. No one questioned his silent burden — The aged expression of Methuselah’s years. Yet from that day, he walked without a smile, The Void still echoing behind his eyes; A living witness to what none should see, Some resurrections come at too high a price. The word spread fast of this divine act, Of the Nazarene’s immense power; That his reach could extend so far, Beyond the ruins of the Babel Tower. As the daughter of Jairus herself revived, And Christ himself would rise on the third day, Lazarus survived Death’s tightest grip — A ransom no earthly king could ever pay. All rights reserved. © 2024 Stewart Stafford (Revised 2026)”

“Society must show that blue-collar crime never pays. Insidious white-collar crime pays very well, and nothing is declared. It's the same reason why Financial Education, probably the most important subject of all, is absent from the general school curriculum - to keep the have-nots ignorant and the establishment's riches safe.”

“The Phantastic Phantasms by Stewart Stafford Halloween Henry sitting on top of a pumpkin he made Eyes are ablaze Morbid Melissa breastfeeding strychnine to all of the babes Her smile never fades Don’t you see that darkness creeping? It’s a nightmare without sleeping Trick-or-Treat Trevor knocking on doors with no head to display It’s his headless way Emmet The Clownface Haunting the grounds of an old children’s school He’s nobody’s ghoul On a carpet of Autumn leaves They’re around every All Hallow’s Eve Sam O’Terry counting the bones of his earthly remains None of them lame Simon-Whose-Head-Hurts taking his 920th overdose Chemically verbose They will always do their worst On October the 31st ©Stewart Stafford, 2018. All rights reserved.”

“The Silken Trap by Stewart Stafford Beware chimera beauty's charm! Faux-demure, eyes downcast. A raging rutting season over her; Spideress-gossamer entrapped. She casts bait with arid hooks, Covertly spinning sentient silk, Soon swept up/wed/heirs sired— Promulgating the snare's traffic. A flash fire of rival suitors ignites, Fans herself to mask her smirk, The webbed game her hand to play— Vault’s hasp clicks shut on her pulse. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“I Once Was A Bee by Stewart Stafford I once was a bee, All striped and dorky, I got crushed underfoot, By Amber Heard's Yorkie. It mashed my wings, I never sought money, Even when it made me, Poop out some honey. As I flew to Bee Heaven, In a mystical fog, She made such a fuss, Of that murdering dog. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

“The Edge by Stewart Stafford Hanging on the jagged edge, Taunted to plunge in the deep, Surfing wild on stormy winds, Cold sweat at pain's brief sweep. Nestled in some whirling gusts, Gooseflesh skin from chilly hands, A mask for a mimicry ball, An everyman's muddled land. Rising from some inner call, Not a fugazi in Kismet's window. The path still fogged from sight, I climb higher, to touch the rainbow. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

“Elysian Way by Stewart Stafford An eviction deadline decree, A woodpecker broadcast, Winter, the incoming actor, About to enter a clean stage. The powder blue sky framed, Fall's aurum, russet and ochre, Dripping opalescent raindrops, A red wedding's spangled confetti. Leaves shushed and shimmered, In moving vertical waves of surf, Trees shrugged slowly to begin, The organic haircut of the ages. Leaves plunged, spun and floated, Fallen comrades littered the grass, Half-assed, surprise resurrections, As swirling spectral mini vortexes. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved”

“Aubergine, Auberga, Life Goes On by Stewart Stafford The Devil is in the oxtails, A foetus lacking the superb, Granny Smith or Granny Shit, Modulation without the reverb. A penguin picked up gingerly, Unaware what had hit his ice, A Matterhorn tuxedo Cha-Cha, Casinoed fits from tumbling dice. O, to have knees of broccoli! Each eye a glittering ruby grape, A peacenik parsley neck surrender, Florid garnish to an eggplant nape. Forgive me if I go daydreaming, Your déjà vu’s recurring nightmare, An offer of hunger strike insomnia, A gun-to-the-head vigil with flair. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”