The Ticking Spiral by 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.

The Titan’s Fall by Stewart Stafford

The Titan’s Fall by Stewart Stafford

Colossus ship of the Titans,
Flames of Tartarus in its belly,
Unsinkable beneath the stars,
Champagne popped too soon.

In infinite glacial hubris,
Collided with its own ambition,
Immortal Gordian Knot slashed,
And freezing death crept aboard.

Cantering up Scotland Road,
Trojan Seahorse’s Achilles’ Heel,
Solitary children drowning,
In heartbroken submersion.

The River Styx fell silent,
But for whimpered prayers.
As Charon’s boat of death,
Ferried them to Hades.

The tangled Medusan wreckage,
Once a great wonder of the earth,
Plunged into an underworld abyss –
A terrible beauty on the seabed nests.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

The One Who Moves Me by Stewart Stafford

The One Who Moves Me by Stewart Stafford

Her caress and laughter,
Cast out the darkness,
And lull the choppy waters,
Her embrace, a flowering meadow.

Her absence stills the earth,
Cracked ice on a frozen lake,
Asphyxiating silence descends,
The Faustian poker of loneliness.

Lexicons filled with her silences,
Seismic shifts of stinging rage,
She, in naked imperfection as I,
Together, reuniting in shelter.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved. 

Time’s Magpies by Stewart Stafford

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. 

Ghost Wail Square by Stewart Stafford

Ghost Wail Square by Stewart Stafford

There’s a place that canines shun,
In The Witching Hour stark,
Dogs wandering misty avenues,
Flee from Pandora’s Park.

Nicknamed Ghost Wail Square,
Once whispered as Harlot’s Row,
Twilight cobblestones flooded with blood,
Extinguished collusion’s glow.

Blue bloodlust inflamed there,
In scented carriages and filthy lanes,
Carnivores at the butcher’s block,
As they scattered ill-gotten gains.

At Devil’s Hour, the horror peaks,
Death rattle knocks on doors,
As screams for mercy fill the air,
No rescue missions for whores.

A killer sheltered ‘neath potent wings,
A skittish stranger to the noose,
Then sewn mouths shall speak,
As festering skeletons slip loose.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

The Pit Beneath The Stars by Stewart Stafford

The Pit Beneath The Stars by Stewart Stafford

R2D2’s brother, aflame,
Riptides of amber embers,
A multitude of fireflies in flight,
Under an arras of purple stars.

Laughs and tall tales flow,
A dragon’s belch scorches,
Sparks and choking smoke,
In the moon’s judging glare.

The blaze, burning down,
To a distant starry realm,
Bedtime ticking closer,
Creaking limbs go upstairs.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved. 

The Damned Axe by Stewart Stafford

The Damned Axe by Stewart Stafford

The axe decapitates a head,
Society’s ills get quickly shed,
Can we trust what we don’t see?
The masked executioner’s decree.

A death by hacks couldn’t be worse,
Carnifex of the jingling cutpurse,
Blood is spilt to slake the thirst,
In the name of God, the law comes first.

A pantomime of barbarity,
To lose one’s head so publicly,
And then be held up mockingly,
The crowd disperses hastily.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Proscenium Panther by Stewart Stafford

Proscenium Panther by Stewart Stafford

The actor missed his line,
Whispers from the wings,
Deafening silence hanging,
Another cue came briskly.

A pregnant pause of years,
The frozen player’s lips moved,
Offstage, a mock post-mortem,
The thespian grinned impishly.

After the audience’s first line laugh,
He racked his brain for more jokes,
Flouting the text and all the cast,
O, limelight, of hot-headed hydras.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved

February Soup by Stewart Stafford

February Soup by Stewart Stafford

The February fog,
Turns all into blobs,
Orange street lights,
To Valentine’s Night.

When the wind strays,
Fog’s mantle is grey,
Laying misty bouquets,
On barren, muddied days.

The daffodils of March,
Can cheer up Plutarch,
Adorned in Kelly green,
No sign of foggy screens.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Stars of Fire By Stewart Stafford

Stars of Fire by Stewart Stafford

At the Gate of Pleiades,
Lies the playground of the Deities,
At The Golden Gate of the Ecliptic,
The Gods’ plot and remain cryptic.

Between the claws of Scorpio and Cancer,
At the mercy of the great Zodiacal dancer.
The dilemma on the horns of Aries,
Brushes asides all adversaries.

Venus trails stardust from her hair,
As a supernova across the galaxy flares,
A shooting star is the spear of Orion,
More is the mane of Leo the lion.

Man’s Gemini may someday show before us,
As chaste Virgo or the mighty Taurus,
Or be inanimate as the scales of Libra,
Or spread as Cancer or an unchecked fever.

Perhaps these pilgrims have visited us before,
When Sagittarius took the form of the wise Centaur,
Or when Pisces flopped in an Aquarian boat,
Or on a lazy hill to the Capricorn goat.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.