Narrative Poetry Quotes

“So I perversely circle the late stars, drowsier and drowsier, sleepily longing for something.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth”
― William Shakespeare, The Rape of Lucrece

“Lazarus Saturday: The Longest Way by Stewart Stafford

"Lazarus, come out!" Jesus said:
A dead man awoke in a burial place,
Wrapped head to foot on a stretcher;
He shook away the cloth on his face.

Four days dead, his soul was gone;
His sisters berated Jesus's late arrival;
The Lord did not doubt his power,
From the afterlife came his survival.

From a white light end to a dark revival,
Life cascaded in decomposing flesh,
His chest hurt as it rose and fell again,
Bloated and blotchy skin alive afresh.

Lazarus struggled to breathe in dusty air;
His body was freezing and deathly pale;
At first, he thought he had gone to God,
The voice of his friend told another tale.

Shuffling stiffly to the cave's womb exit,
Newborn-blind to his second life;
The Disciples rushed to unwrap him,
His sisters embraced away their strife.

Lazarus wanted to tell what he had seen,
But was told it was not for mortal ears;
His sisters had to respect this wish,
Overjoyed to live to Methuselah's years.

The word spread fast of this act;
Of the Nazarene's immense power;
That his reach could extend so far,
To the world far past Babel's Tower.

As the daughter of Jairus resurrected,
Christ himself arose on the third day;
Lazarus was in Death's grip tightest,
Miracles that blood money cannot repay.

© 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Backchannel Negotiation
by Stewart Stafford

I slumped out of the tarot parlour,
Drifted past the neon sandwich shop
with more than angel food for thought,
Replaying the revelation on a mind loop.

She said don't worry—which I did,
Everything I had dreamt or wanted
were my riches of decades past
on a distantly hazy New Year’s Eve.

That night, I chatted up a Hollywood starlet—
A shooting star rising across my eyeline—
Beautiful face and eyes, but acned skin,
It was her friend who drew my attention.

I began to leave, but sprang backwards—
A jack-in-the-box popping up for her number.
Marriage and two children flowed from there,
The sated universe hummed, the psychic said.

© 2026 Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“A Heaving of Hooves
by Stewart Stafford

Branches form a star-shaped dawn,
Hammering ale-soured heads forlorn.
Drunk to dull the bow-stave’s strain,
Bent low, then rose upon the battle plain.

When failing flesh and blood
collapses into dung and mud,
Fury’s flaying poleaxe blow
slashes and culls noble and low.

Hacking peasant adversaries,
Schooled by seasoned mercenaries,
Tavern-stale archers loosing at will—
Hooves thunder, death screams shrill.

The King and standard guard the rear;
Their presence quells each ragged fear,
Dismounted, routed—formation lost:
A butcher’s bill of carrion cost.

© 2026 Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford