Scream 2022 Quotes

An Infant Maestro by Stewart Stafford Baby as a bag of cats, Grunting like an Everest climber, Then screaming as if tortured, Followed by innocent, cooing smiles. Drinking milk from a rocket bottle, Tiny hands move with satisfaction, Conducting an invisible orchestra, Sighing in rhythm to his gulps. Bored stares at the ceiling, As Baby Mama changes him, Then eye-rolling slumber, Floating away in the bassinet. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

From The Darkest Depths by Stewart Stafford Salvation swallowed in a bleak abyss, Of impossibly lost and betrayed souls, Swarming screams of frantic contrition, Clawing collisions in a drowning grip. Drops of reason cascade down the vortex, Falling infinitely through the fallen infamy, Snaking doubt constructing every delusion, Of false idols, prophets, and graven images. Scaling its putrescent and lacerating walls, Is a repentant struggle beyond endurance, Then distant dawn appears, growing nearer, Darkness fades and a basking reign forms. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved

One by Stewart Stafford Death riding a pale horse, Warned it was time to leave, No hiding place as dice rolled, I sank to my knees to grieve. Six hundred and sixty-six morticians, Greeted the thing from the sea, Scuttling sideways down the road, It headed for Washington D.C. Navel-gazing, not my thing at all, But the Day of Judgement came by, Grabbing my phone lightning-fast, A dying breath to scream goodbye. Firestorms, tsunamis, the dead resurrecting, The sun shattered into nine, Winds that flayed skin from bone, Jester bells at dawn's last shine. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Ever Wonder? by Stewart Stafford Ever wonder why the gales howl? Screams of the multitude departed, In all those mauling, biting attacks, Life numbed in interminable silence. Ever wonder why woods are tangled? Matted hair from a sprite's dwelling, To catch the lost, nosey and wandering, Their hair caught to make new tangles. Ever wonder how waves roll over white? Sea horses rising and diving underneath, The sun striking their wet necks glinting, A trick of the light of white horses riding. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

The Calling by Stewart Stafford Lightning-scorched gravestones, Leave and follow infinity’s call, Spring off the edge of Flat Earth, Know not what lies there and fall. Silence licks and speaks in tongues, Darkness the ferryman leading on, Fingers caress, scraping skin curses, Talisman whispers the way is gone. Hit the bottom and scream out for air, Fill the lungs with each noxious gas, Decide to rest some in poisoned sleep, Nourish yourself in an extended fast. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Rainbow Days by Stewart Stafford They make us live in monochrome, Autoerotic under a mirrored dome, Regurgitating back this non-entity, Inside I scream it's the death of me. In between bouts of colon screening, Rainbow days in a third eye's gleaming, Silence a throbbing executioner's drum, Brass muffling the demagogue's hum. Shattered manacles I'm going to see, As I'm leaving this world for infinity, Christen horror hurricanes after me, On submerged planet earth, Terra-Firma-On-Sea. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved

As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” That’s a little more than saying, sort of, in general, “Be nice to people.” He said, “As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” I am called by Jesus himself, to live a new commandment – to love as he did. I am to respond to evil with goodness, as he did. I am supposed to do what a mother does when a little child is angry, screaming, in a tantrum. The mother hugs the child and surrounds the child with love and absorbs the anger. That is what I am to do: surround evil and anger with goodness as Jesus did. Am I doing that today?

Dying Hours by Stewart Stafford All debts were settled on Christmas Eve, Fail to do so, and there’d be no reprieve, In the dying flame of a guttering candle, Monies got paid, and cash got handled. When the last customer left to journey home, Quinn, the shop owner, found himself alone, He stared at pooling shadows, no one there, Told himself to hurry, be with those who care. As he closed up, something screamed out, A figure from out of the dark began to shout, A man with no eyes begged alms for the dead, Or any old soup with a thick slice of bread. Quinn said he was a business, not a charity, The man’s eyes opened with some clarity, “Very well,” the man said, “Nothing’s free,” “I’ll drag your soul to Hell, come with me!” © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

In February 2022, in Nashville, Tennessee, Pastor Greg Locke accused six members of his Global Vision Bible Church of being quite literally “devil-worshipping Satanist witches,” two of them in the ladies’ Bible study group. In a video shared on social media, he screamed accusations of “pharmakeia” (witchcraft with drugs, poisons, and remedies), burning sage (a Native American cleansing practice), being Freemasons, and bewitching fellow worshippers. He has also made QAnon-inspired accusations that then House of Representatives speaker Nancy Pelosi was a “demon baby-killing pedophile” and former secretary of state and first lady Hillary Clinton a “high priestess in the Satanic church.” These claims were also made by those responsible for the Capitol riot of 2021 and an attack on Nancy Pelosi’s husband in 2022.