“Darkened Light by Stewart Stafford Ephemeral life fading, As a ground shadow, The cat in the shade, The sun's arm draped. Pose for a photograph, Thousand-yard stare, In denial of expiration, That bodily eviction. Take a breather inside, Too drained for more, Crash and burn out, Let quietus wash over. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathDyingDeath And DyingEnd Of LifeThe EndTerminal IllnessDeath PoemsRunning Out Of TimeDeath PoemEnd Of Life Musings Author:Stewart Stafford
“Thoughts On My End by Stewart Stafford My last moments slip away, On which day, at what time? Snow chilling bones faster? Sweat in blinding sunshine? Halloween, Xmas or Easter? Evening or just after dawn? Pass away on my birthday? Gifts, mass cards all drawn? Will it be in long, slow agony? Or mercifully fast and painless? What will my drug of choice be? Will I be conscious or brainless? Who will be at my bedside? Many or no one, who can say? Kind words or total silence? I’ll hear and be on my way. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathLetting GoMortalityDeath And DyingPassing AwayEnd Of LifeDeath PoemsDeath PoemFinal MomentsMoment Of Death Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Unanswered Question by Stewart Stafford Ask a body why it lies in a grave, And no answer shall ring in your ears, Ask the rat that squeaks like a knave, And there is nothing to ease your fears. See lightning's fiery eye wink a hint, Hear thunder belching out proud, Hail is flicked off like lint, Dumb as a corpse in its shroud. Mourners do splutter and cry, In unison or solitary grief, Hysteria governs their reply, Tongues pocketed by sorrow's thief. Only when you lay in dirt senselessly, Do answers come out of reach, Secrets clouded eternally, To an owl's shrill and wise screech. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.” DeathPoetryNatureGriefPoemMourningMeaning Of LifeDeath And DyingLife After DeathDeath And Taxes Author:Stewart Stafford
“Teardrop Swarm by Stewart Stafford Entombed by verdant prison bars, On land where I once held sway, Drowned in Death's tearful surf, In which we all get swept away. Weep at a rock bearing my name, A vacant space once familiar there, Lost and lingered in limbo longing, Planted in pastures, green and fair. Arch headstones are defiant cliffs, For Reaper's wrath to crash upon, A foundling rage's pristine triumph, In foam white light, multitudes gone. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.” NatureTransformationMourningGrief And LossDeath And DyingReflectiveElegyDeath PoemsLiminalityDeath Poem Author:Stewart Stafford
“With time-lashed features, the aged stoop to bow out of life.” Death And DyingGrowing OldAgeingWrinklesEnd Of LifeAgedEnd Of Life MusingsThe ElderlyStoopBowing Out Author:Stewart Stafford
“No one gets out of this world alive...except astronauts.” Death And DyingDeath QuotesAstronautsBlack HumourGallows Humour Author:Stewart Stafford
“If I wake up in the morning and see a bedroom ceiling, I say: "Another day? Let's go!" If I woke up and saw a wooden coffin or urn lid, I'd probably say: "Oh...back to bed.” Death And DyingDark HumorGood MorningSleeping InWaking Up In The MorningCoffinGood Morning QuotesGallows HumorFacetiousGallows Humour Author:Stewart Stafford
“Death is not the villain of the piece. It is the next phase of life in unfamiliar clothing.” DeathLossGriefLife And DeathGrief And LossDeath And DyingDeath QuotesLoss QuotesNext LifeLife And Death Quotes Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Edge of Reason by Stewart Stafford I do not want to die or take my own life, I cling to the outside of skyscraper metal, Thick, choking smoke rakes my shoulder, Scorching flames lash my back and legs. I showered, dressed and went to work, I arrived early, said hello, found my desk, Then the building shifted, smiles faded, Everything changed, and here we are. God, please take me quickly, I beg you, Bless my loved ones, I hope they understand, A Rorschach test for shocked rubberneckers, I let the air pressure suck me out and drop. The initial relief of vacating impossibility, Turns to violent buffeting in wind currents, Clothes ripped off as I spin, falling faster, Crowds point, the ground rushes towards me. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” SurvivalTragedyDisasterDeath And DyingSocial CommentaryWorld Trade CenterExistential CrisisSeptember 11thTwin Towers9 11 Poem Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Physician's Pageant by Stewart Stafford Can aught endure the masquerade Of this world's blindfolded night? Melancholy's strike doth calm the raving, As babes roused from stillbirth in fledgling light. We know that the womb doth wander, Around the body, causing ills without care, A pessary's charm doth anchor it in place again, As bait doth lure the quarry to the snare. Burn sulfur, rosemary, lavender and juniper, Or foul dung smoke to cleanse tainted rural air. Light aromatic torches in the playhouse and market, Let vile odours and miasmas in these spaces beware. Though ragged contagion and death still doth assail, God willing, some blessed souls still shalt prevail. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” ResilienceDeath And DyingHuman ConditionMedical HistoryPhilosophical PoetryDisease And DeathGothic PoetryHistorical PoetryShakespearean SonnetsRenaissance Poetry Author:Stewart Stafford
“Dead Rite by Stewart Stafford While he lives, hope still clings, The hereafter remains a mystery, If life is but struggle and toil, Then death is hushed serenity. Things he treasured when alive, Trinkets to divide up as booty, The body still lying in repose, Nothing but a fading memory. Lay him down in a mossy grave, Heads bowed in a muttered eulogy, Then back away with platitudes, To the nearest exit from the cemetery. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathGreedSelfishnessFuneralDeath And DyingUsersEulogyInsensitiveDeath PoemMourners Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Feminine Enigma by Stewart Stafford Even lying in repose in her casket, Her aura still a billowing haze, A coffin lid no barrier to new facts, She came back on her funeral day. Creeping sentinels of perspective, Building up new memory mosaics, A spider's web of word and deed, Descending Prozac of the prosaic. The labyrinthine riddle is female, Females are perennially arcane, Puzzles that don't beg solutions, Evening stars of the astral plane. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” MemoriesFemaleFeminineFuneralDeath And DyingFemalesFuneralsMournersDeath Is Not The EndWomen Are Mystery Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Inevitable Tide by Stewart Stafford The inevitable tide comes, To claim every one of us, Whether sufficient breath of life, Is inhaled deep or forsaken. Then let them bend and screech, Their hearsay and homilies, To rake the ashes of earthly remains, In our final resting place. The person no longer lingers, Gone to Paradise or Hell, Purgatory or mere rotting decay, A ghostly rose bled white on binding soil. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathRoseFuneralDeath And DyingGraveElegyDeath PoemsDeath PoemTide Of LifeTides Of Time Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Cliffs Of Consolation by Stewart Stafford Don't fall meekly off Life's precipice, With Death stamping on weak fingers, Cling on, scream, fight the inevitable, For gravity’s jury's karmic reprieve. Souls crash in the surf beneath, The perennial tide of plankton orbs, In effervescent flows above the bluff, Doves flying back when the flood's over. If beyond salvation, down you plunge, Assuage yourself with lifetime efforts, All is pardoned, wiped clean in death, A phoenix risen from bodily constraints. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.” DeathSpiritualityDeath And DyingRebirthPhoenixLife After DeathStewart StaffordThe AfterlifeStewart Stafford PoemsThe Cliffs Of Consolation Author:Stewart Stafford
“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 Author:Stewart Stafford
“If anyone at my funeral says 'it's what he would have wanted', I'll kick the lid off my coffin and throttle them. Or, if I've been cremated, I'll flip the lid off the urn and become a dust storm in their eyes. Only you know what you truly want. Anything else is presumption skewed through personal agendas.” What You WantDeath And DyingDeath QuotesPresumptionCoffinCremationDark ComedyBlack HumourUrnGallows Humour Author:Stewart Stafford
“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 Author:Stewart Stafford