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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  8/21/2014 7:07:14 AM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  9.     

It's Death Again

It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'



Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009





























































































































The Reign of Death

Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  10.     

Mother Nature

Don't be fooled, it's Mother Nature –
Evil shimmers in the creature –
Absolutely nil of nice to greet you.
Only your selective mind has
Chosen what to see:
A pretty flower, furry mammal,
Butterflies of flashing colour –
Camels trekking on without a drink.

But do you ever stop to think?
Nature is what nature does:
The tearing up of flesh;
A scrawling victim dashed with toxin,
Struggling flies enmeshed in webs;
The cuckoo after all is just a parasite!

Darwin knew this many years ago –
The struggle for survival of the genes,
Using mighty panoplies of
Organisms: their machines.
But under selfish, brutal drive,
Crushingly, they survive and carry on
Through many generations
– And then again, and yet again...

Mutations, errors, and suffering,
Geological events,
Slaughter of the innocent –
So why be meek and reticent?
Dawkins chose to thunder on
And say his peace – God? How come?
Richard knows that when he goes,
That's it! Oh Shit!

You have a brain to model situations
– Those in which you're under threat –
So to help you thrive.
That is why you drive imagination to the limits –
Because you can…
You control exactly what to see through wonderment.
And so you cheat yourself!
A turning of a blind and silent eye;
Pretend that nature really is a glorious ride
Of beauty – just ignore the ugly side.
But sanity is what you crave
To steer you 'way from this depraved
And chilling life,
That has to face her: Mother Nature.




Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009



























































Nature nature, Mother Nature
Nature, nature do you care?
Nature nature, Mother nature
Mother nature ate yer!
Nature nature, Mother nature
Nature nature are you there?
Nature nature, Mother nature
Mother nature hate yer!
Nature, nature, nature bait yer
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  11.     

'Alone! ' I cried

'Alone! ' I cried again.
'Alone I am with me!
Lonely in a world of mist
Alone, I reach to touch your wrist
And see if I am thee.’

To be alone beside a soul
Afloat, adrift; an empty ghoul
Alone in woe; the yearning flesh
To fill a thin, contorted mesh
Diffuse atop an icy floor, alone.

So much alone in fact, I lack
The tonal vibrancy of life:

I am a song without a tune
alone;
A greying sky in June
alone;

The blueness of a sullen moon
– waning in a starless night–
alone;

Coasting down a weedy pass
alone;
The only image in the glass
alone;

To meet a certain heavy fate
– to turn and shut the knurly gate–

…alone.



Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

















alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone

alone alone alone alone
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  12.     

Teacher

The teacher taught;
The pupils never bought the notion.
Now distraught, he
Slammed the door,
Stomped the floor,
Seeing red.

The noise, the
Whole commotion,
Brought the Head.

‘You need your bed - you're full o' drink! '
He boomed.
‘Cripes! ' the teacher cried
- A stink of booze across the room -
‘You mean that I'm denied
My nightly bottle, comfy whisky?
I'll have to throttle naughty you.
Risky, true -
To see you dead! '

By now the kids had left the room -
Smoking - drunk - singing in the bogs.
‘Annoying little dogs! ' Our teacher screamed,
Dropping the Head -
His face completely cyanotic,
The situation now chaotic.

‘Now that'll do, ' the teacher laughed.
‘I might be daft, but I'm alive
To preach again - surviving those vicissitudes of life:
The challenges; laying down the
Lessons to the brats -
I'm the boss, they're the rats! Give ‘em strife!
I'll make ‘em take exams
Throughout the night - what a fright
They'll have. But first I'll round ‘em up to
To shift the Head.'

They dumped him in the garden shed
Behind the mower
And other paraphernalia
Used to keep the grounds in order.
The kids were good - no disorder
While they did the master's evil deed.


The teacher smiled; he'd been freed
From persecution, diminution
Of his rank: a lowly grade of scholar.
‘Thank you, pupils, what an honour,
Now the Head has gone,
But now I have to see to your
Extinction too. After all, you
Never listen - never do!
And so it's time for you to earn
A just reward - a trip to Hell! '

However, the kids were luckily saved -
Yes, you guessed - the clanging bell that
Ended period two. Depraved and
Sweating like a pig, the teacher
Froze - took a swig anew of gin -
The Deputy Head was coming over:
Teacher had to wipe him out
As well!

The pupils took advantage: scampered,
Screaming.

Finely poised, the Deputy
Crooned: ‘What's the meaning, Teacher-?
And where's the Head, suspicious creature?
Answers came from Teacher's cane -
The heavy-duty rod was in attack -
Poor old Deputy staggered back -
A massive blow had bruised him badly.

Sadly, as he fell, he bashed his skull
Upon the ground - and that is where
The janitor found his body -
What a sight - pitifully shoddy!

But then the pupils cottoned on:
Should they call upon the staff
To see the teacher one-to-one,
The kids would end up having fun,
Since all the school would have to close,
As all the staff would come to blows with
Psycho-Sam -
The name the kids had given to this
Strange demented man.

So that is what they did -
The faculty, sequentially,
Exterminated;
The kids were rid of staff and
Free to roam, though
The teacher lost all interest and
Drove himself back home.

Knocking back a litre bottle of gin, he
Sung a song about the sin
Committed - emitting a din -
And what grin - hideous!
He even wondered where he'd been
Upon that brutal day.

Back at school, in disarray,
The kids were happily psyched again,
Smoking funny cigs, or eyeing adult flicks -
It's how they got their kicks!
At least they weren't a bane
To any staff -
What a laugh!




Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
































































teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter