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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  10/31/2014 4:46:42 AM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  117.     

FROG

France and China feed from your demise,
Restaurateurs are not exactly chums,
Oh how they rave about your tender thighs!
Gourmand orders - another frog succumbs…



Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010




























































frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
Frog frog
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  118.     

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
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

Sorrow Under Mist

Mist -

Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -

Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.

In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.

We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.

But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.

Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011



























































Sorrow Rain

sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

Wallow in the Greed

If you could know how much I make,
I'm sure to see you blush!
To reap the stipend that I do
Will mean, therefore, I look at you
From high above in my success
And say to you, 'Poor thing, God bless.'

The greedy bastard that I am -
I love to drown in bling;
Unlike you – so bloody poor, and
Picking coins up off the floor!
But sorry mate, I'm not to blame –
The fact your bank account is lame!

Come and see my flashy car
Awash inside with leather;
I saw the battered wreck you drive,
Spewing out its oily smog!
Your banger, friend, is such a dog,
Clanking out its dialogue.

I shall die in gleaming wealth,
Floating out in gentle stealth –
Having bought a glowing health.
As for you, my hard-up mate,
You'll fade away a slave to fate,
Surviving on the welfare state.



Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

























































Greed, greed, greed, greed
Greed, greed, feed the greed.
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter