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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  7/10/2014 12:18:03 PM
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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.     

Heaven

Paving stones
crazy on the floor
belie their role of cogitation -
they feel our feet

And as I stagger on
they find my catastrophic state of play
a little too amusing, and
laugh upwards
to penetrate the black of heavy eyes

And I shall smoke to see myself in Heaven
Heaven
and I shall drink to see myself in Heaven

Ol' Sack-O'-Bones the cat
stray as any stray can be
shows he has a sparkle in the eye
or shall he ever die in filth;
hard-honed skill, his pornographic pill of life,
rips apart a Rattus rattus
then he looks out
across the spent fields
tattoos of my rent facade
laughs upwards
to penetrate the black of heavy eyes

And I shall smoke to see myself in Heaven
Heaven
and I shall drink to see myself in Heaven

I walk ‘n' talk another while
the drink, it brings another smile
in my pause to finger junk that jumbles up the bin
might I have a win: a cottage pie
that never saw the microwave
before the violation
you know
the mandatory dates
and so I mutilate the morsel

Does it eye my desperation? -
laughing upwards
to penetrate the black of heavy eyes

And I shall smoke to see myself in Heaven
Heaven
and I shall drink to see myself in Heaven

We and I and life and them
the people making Man
observe inwardly
we're all guts ‘n' blood ‘n' stuff
melding in with failure

I know upon the drab horizon
lives another Man
mowing lines in parallel
pandering to snobbery
runs a route in every day
arriving in his air-conditioned greyness
wife ‘n' kids betraying him in every way
as long as he can have another pair of legs
to open for his only goal of sanity

then He turns
laughing upwards
to penetrate the black of heavy eyes

He knows my song:

And I shall smoke to see myself in Heaven
Heaven
and I shall drink to see myself in Heaven


So here I try to stand
peering o'er the cliffs that oversee eternity -
that ocean sprawls beneath a heavy head of grey -
how am I to comprehend the being?

Looking up I see the overhanging Providence
Laughing down upon the world

to penetrate the black of heavy eyes

He knows the fact that I am wrong

So I shall smoke to see myself in Heaven
Heaven
and I shall drink to see myself in Heaven

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2014
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

Juno Gave the Summer

A sun for hearts – tempered rhythm in her flares;
The naked tan – bikini line a cry for stares;
Gregarious green, beguiled by colours en rapport –
The park’s alive! So what’s to hanker after more?

Children scream while parents dream their fantasies,
Igniting under brilliance –
They think they share resilience to the
Ultraviolet hues;
To lie displayed au naturel
Is what they’d rather choose!

And Helios peers at lovers in their
Heady worlds: vibrant leas to
Roam in hand; calming seas –
Satin sand insensible as
Water runs her ripples cross the
Shore – so like the park, it really
Cries for very little more!

In the garden, roses clamber for attention –
Pouting blooms, wafting scent –
Our floral monarch June’s event!
And fingers green receive the praise
From toiling hard for coloured blaze.

Compelled, I walk the countenance of sunny June
As Mother Nature danced amok in her saloon
Of roaring life, that came of youth in early spring
And nurtured in maternal warmth beneath her wing.

Eyes bedewed, I mellow in a reverie
– Hope renewed –
As Juno saw to suckle me with
Quintessential summer.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
All rights reserved


See the link below for notes on this poem:

http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm




























































































June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
Summer summer June summer June in summer summer
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

Mother’s Cry of Late

</>Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!

What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!

Now go you well!
Amen! ’

What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.

‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

































































































soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter