Nobody Told Death

  

 

Nobody told death

That she had had three children

And that for years ongoing

The father was missing.

 

Nobody told death

They were all very young

And that for not one of them

Was the father around.

 

Who’ll look after them

Was never death’s concern

Because death just does not care,

I have long learned.

 

 

 

Nobody told death

That he was a young doctor

And that he had just graduated

Top in the order.

 

Nobody told death

Of the great investment

That was made in him by others

And the Government.

 

What a waste that was

Some would want to say

But death does not care about such;

Absolutely no way.

 

 

Nobody told death

He’d just had a promotion,

Death simply delights in playing

With one’s emotion.

 

This one must have hurt

Many a concerned heart

Since this recently made magistrate

Was now at the start.

 

But nobody told death

About any of this

And by family and legal fraternity,

He will be sorely missed.

 

Nobody told death

The bullet had gone astray

And it was not for the innocent

On that horrid day.

 

Only a youngster

And still in his teens,

Life blood running in the street,

What a numbing scene!

 

 

 

But death didn’t care

For his allotted time was up

And the means did not matter;

He was out of luck.

 

We come in one way

But we go out many ways

And death is an appointment,

The Bible says.

 

Nobody told death

It was her only child,

A longed-for child in her later years

The odds she defied.

 

Then death took her

At just age number three,

The grim reaper had struck again;

Oh what misery!

 

Nobody told death

Since it made no sense,

Death marches on to its victories

Full of offense.

 

 

If you are reading this

Right about now

Be aware that one day to death

You too will bow.

 

Stewart Russell © January 22, 2026

 

After Death

 

 

How does a person feel

After he is dead?

This is a question

That fills me with dread.

 

I still wonder

As a body is interred,

Is he or she still conscious

As some do infer?

 

What is the state

Of the spirit that departs?

Is it around God’s throne

As some think in heart?

 

Their thoughts perish

According to Job

But according to others,

Bedecked in robes.

 

Tell me for certain

Does anyone know?

Can you show me in the Bible

Or is it your say-so?

 

 

If at the point of death

We are still alive,

Why to prolong our life

Is there such a drive?

 

A believer does not die

According to Jesus

It’s only the body that dies

Hence, dust to dust.

 

He that believeth in me

Shall never die!

Such an assurance from Jesus

Cannot be denied.

 

But what meant Jesus

When he said these words?

It could not be the physical

To which he referred.

 

Did he mean at once

Or at some time to come?

Like for example when he returns

To set up his kingdom.

 

 

Some say immediately

But not convincingly so

For at the passing of a friend,

Their sorrow really shows.

 

Crying and wailing

And many days of grief,

If that saint is alive and well

Mourning should cease.

 

Rather it should be

Much rejoicing and praise

Since the body has been interred

But the spirit is raised.

 

The truth be told

The grim reaper has struck

And as some mostly see it,

Another’s out of luck.

 

How I wish I knew

What occurs after death

And what it really means

To lie at rest!

 

 

We say to the decease

May he rest in peace,

Is there another alternative

After this life’s lease?

 

Like a rest otherwise

Different from one of peace

In which turmoil and war

Never will cease?

 

None has ever returned

From the dead, I mean

To give us a detailed description

Of the post-death scene.

 

In all honesty

I really do not know

But I’d like to see it in the Bible

And not one’s say-so.

 

 

Jesus did return

And is alive forever more

And some day in his own time

We will know for sure.

 

Stewart Russell © February 11, 2024

 

Death Doesn’t Care

 

 

 

Death doesn’t care where you live

Or who you are,

His appointment with you is preset;

That could be near or far.

 

Your money doesn’t matter,

You cannot bribe death,

You cannot buy another minute

Or another breath.

 

Your pedigree doesn’t matter

And neither does your age,

The grim reaper can come a-calling

At any stage.

 

Future prospects may be good

And great things await

But death may decide to visit you

On a romantic date.

 

 

You could be at the movies

Or perhaps watching a game,

Death can just crash you parade

Without as much as a pain.

 

Death just doesn’t care

It is just the way he operates,

He displays absolutely no emotions:

Neither love nor hate.

 

It could be at the breakfast table

That he will come a-knocking

Of that planned sumptuous Sunday lunch

He would just be blocking.

 

Death could visit on a plane

Or just as easily in a car

And all your carefully made plans

Death would just mar.

 

 

There is none more unpredictable

Than the grim reaper,

He can turn the strongest man

Into a permanent sleeper.

 

Death is the most misunderstood

Phenomenon I know

And if he has any emotions

They just do not show.

 

Kings and the commoner

The filthy rich and the dirty poor,

He comes unannounced

And he will push your door.

 

We say he comes a-knocking

But that is not always true,

Whether on a sickbed or suddenly

He will come to you.

 

Whether you are a happy person

Or often sad and blue,

As long as you are alive

Your death visit is due.

 

 

You may accuse me of being morbid

If so, I am guilty as charge

But be aware of this one certainty

Your demise is at large.

 

If you are already dead

Then there is no need to worry,

Death will find you sooner or later

He doesn’t have to hurry.

 

More than once it has been said

That someone had cheated death,

But his number had not come up

Or else he would be at rest.

 

Rest in peace is what I mean

And interred in yonder cemetery

For not even Jesus cheated death

Though he rose triumphantly.

 

If you have a minute to spare

Pick up your Bible and read Genesis 5

There you will find the repeated phrase:

And he died and he died.

 

This phrase came again and again

Except for young Enoch,

Death came a-calling on the others

But Enoch, he could not block.

 

In the words of Holy Writ,

God took him, whatever this means,

We are led to believe he did not die-

He was translated off this scene.

 

Death just doesn’t care, I reiterate,

Whether you are a woman or man,

One of these good days my number will call

And he’ll whisk me away as planned.

 

Remember, that “me” means you

If you are reading this poem,

Hopefully you will complete this verse

Before death becomes a problem.

 

Death doesn’t care about you or me,

He just does what he does best,

And one of these days, unknown to us,

We too will be laid to rest.

 

Stewart Russell © March 5, 2023

 

The Money Trap

 

 

 

Is it really possible

To be trapped by money

And I mean mentally possible

As well as literally?

 

Well, it appears so

Particularly given the facts,

Some have been so trapped

They could not turn back.

 

Picture a millionaire

A multi-millionaire even,

Yea man, way to go-

Not a problem!

 

Project even further

To a multi-billionaire,

With so much money to hand

He definitely gone clear!

 

There is nothing in life

That he cannot buy

And he could live on the hog

Till the day he dies.

 

Of course, at this point

Enters the money trap,

All of those multi-billions

Can’t bring life back.

 

I draw your attention

To the ongoing narrative

Where those five on a submersible

May not even live.

 

Five most valuable lives

Including the CEO

Battling with the grim reaper

Quite a distance below.

 

 

In the briny deep

To view an ancient wreck-

The Titan visits the Titanic

No lives on its deck.

 

The Titanic meaning

Of great force and power-

An unsinkable sea-craft

Ending in horror.

 

Then you have the Titan

A colossus, a giant,

From all the tests done-

Definitely reliant.

 

Life is more than words

Or billions even

And death is not put off

By demigods or demons.

 

It is an appointment,

That is as much as we know

And whether rich or poor

To death we will all go.

 

And so, these five souls

By all means very rich

Find themselves in a situation

That is as dark as pitch.

 

Billions of dollars

Were spent on this project:

A trip on the Titan

To view the Titanic.

 

 

Looks like a money trap;

Oxygen running out

And whether they can be rescued

Is in serious doubt.

 

Two other multi-billionaires

Are planning a cage fight,

One man with all of this money

Just don’t seem right.

 

Travelling to outer space

Is another of their hobbies,

They need to do much better

Spending their money.

 

It is a money trap

And will surely end in death

For money, as I see it,

Can’t buy another breath.

 

If you’ve got more money

Than meets your demands

Then helping the less fortunate

Would be a great plan.

 

Stewart Russell © June 22, 2023

 

Writer's Block

 

 

 

At least twice a year

With this I come face to face,

I know I need to write

But of what, I cannot trace.

 

It is four days now

I have not typed a stroke

Hence, I feel a little guilty

Since last I wrote.

 

On the other occasions

I just decided to write

And before long it was “Aha!”

An issue came to light.

 

Up to now, however,

Nothing is beginning to gel

Yet there are many topics today

On which the people dwell.

 

 

Elections is one of them

COVID is still in the air,

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate

Is still creating some fear.

 

A very good friend of mine

Just went to the great beyond

And he is very much on my mind

Every awaking dawn.

 

He has caused my block,

He dominates my thoughts

And I dare say for four days now

I’ve been quite distraught.

 

 

It doesn’t seem real

That he has passed away

And denial plagues my thoughts

Each and every day.

 

 

A reminder of the year 2017

And a repeat of 2018

When two equally dear friends

Departed from this scene.

 

They died relatively suddenly

At the age of fifty-nine,

And that's the age my friend Stephen

Also completed his time.

 

 Pearline, Michael and Stephen,

Three friends at age fifty-nine:

“A turn on life's road with a pothole"

Suggested a friend of mine.

 

It was at age fifty-nine

That he too had a serious bump

But the grim reaper lost the battle

And was temporarily trumped.

Another friend of Stephen

Is now particularly concerned,

He too is at age fifty-nine,

“Could he be next in turn?”

 

It is amazing, my friend,

How we sometimes think

And these obsessive tendencies

Can drive us to the brink.

 

It’s "one day at a time" for me

In addition to "wait and see",

My times are in the Lord’s hand

And what will be will be.

 

 

That may sound fatalistic,

If so, I am guilty as accused

But this one thing I know quite well,

Jesus, I’ll never refuse.

 

A daily choice we make

Is that of acceptance or rejection:

A choice of death or eternal life,

It is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ decision.

 

‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to the Lord Jesus,

‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to redemption,

Age fifty-nine is not the issue

The issue is one’s salvation.

 

  

Hey!  It is gone!

My writer's block is gone!

I started where I knew not where

But God has brought me on.

 

All credit to Him I give

Now and forevermore,

For even when my mind goes awry

It’s in Jesus Christ I soar.

 

Stewart Russell © January 13, 2022

 

Non-Anonymous

 

 

You know my name

And I know yours,

When I come a calling

It’s a special chore.

 

I love what I do

Most often you do not

But at least, I am fair

I share an equal lot.

 

I cannot be bribed

I cannot be outfoxed,

I treat all alike

Be it the heights or blocks.

 

In palaces I’m at home

So too in the slums,

I catch up with people

Though I neither walk nor run.

 

I deal in turns

There’s none I overlook,

I am very specific

My list is my book. 

 

I care not for laughter

And frowns don’t matter,

I disregard your silence

And also your chatter.

 

I’ve been given a task

And it is my delight

To work twenty-four-seven

Morning, noon and night.

 

I don’t care about you

Or your family tree,

Six feet in the ground

Is where I’d rather you be.

 

That is my purpose

And that is my intent,

Your demise, I mean

It’s on that I am bent. 

 

I don’t care about science

Or your philosophy,

I just come a calling

And you must come with me.

 

Most people hate me

A few bid me welcome

But I really don’t care

When I come you’re done.

 

I am omnipresent

Yes, I am everywhere,

Omnipotent I am not

There’s someone I fear.

 

And until he returns

I will have my way

With saint and sinner

Each and every day.

 

I leave you with a warning

It’s the best I can do,

There is life after me

The Holy Bible is true.

 

There’s judgment coming

I advise, be prepared!

I am not the end

I trust you are aware.

 

 

Like the way I began

I will end the same,

I know who you are

And you know me by name.

 

You are:………………………

 

And I am:………………..

 

By the way, it doesn’t matter

If you write your name,

Whether you do or don’t

To me it’s the same.

 

Stewart Russell © July 2019