Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“Trees raised their naked, mottled branches to the sky like mourners stilled in attitudes of grief.”
― Arundhati Roy, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness

“The graveyard is the everlasting home of every man.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

“Stop the pity party! Your sorrow is full and complete when you go through unfortunate circumstances and decide to mourn for life as a result of the unexpected.”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Daily Drive 365

“There lives a weeper
in each of us-
a silent mourner honoring our despair
when our willingness slain by helplessness
continues to resurrect to be slaughtered again”
― Munia Khan

“For what is grief but love in disguise?”
― Ashley Ormon

“The Poe Toaster by Stewart Stafford

They call me The Poe Toaster,
A sixty-year mourner, no boaster,
With roses and cognac, I paid homage,
To gothic Quarles� eternal foggage.

Some call me ghoul, stalker, graver,
Obsessed fan, tombstone trader,
Let him sleep unbroken, still his ghost,
Tomahawk, overdue a tribute toast.

Three roses; in-law, Eddy and wife,
Cognac, exorbitant luxury in life,
Relax, for I was kind, my friend,
Pouring amontillado until the end.

Why I stopped, if I'm woman or man,
Are mysteries for C. Auguste Dupin,
Shipwrecked on Night’s Plutonian shore,
Allied with the silken darkness of yore.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― 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.”
― 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.”
― Stewart Stafford