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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  1/29/2015 4:22:02 PM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  13.     

A Dying Brain

Do you recall how I was once your fire –?
And we, a regal cloud of unity
Meandering through the closing blues of night,
Commanding stars to glitter;
Dawn to blush?

Your answer comes in ever-blanking stares:
A wall that blocks the know,
Damping down the glow that used to emanate
From clear and lucid eyes.
They've lost the will to recognise.

But hear! We are fifty years together –
And once we writhed in pleasure –
Drowning in emotion,
That which was our prime.

You don't recall.
You only lie as vegetation
Scattered on the ground:
A living mound of flesh,
Devoid of any neural mesh
To let you say 'I'm sound.'

Don't worry Dear,
For I'm aware with memory!
I'll tell you how we were.
We have our right of history!

If you could just concur.







Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
















Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember me
Please remember, remember me, remember, remember
Please remember, remember me, remember
Please remember, remember me
Please remember, remember
Please remember
Please
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  14.     

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

   
   
 

  15.     

Pretty-Red Blood

Your blood
Sublime
Bleeds, joins me
In my silent veins

We merge;
Your cries warm
Diverge

We watch one form
Escape
As you submit your ego

The other channels back,
Unnerves your pretty-red breeze of hair -
An elegy presupposed-
Your pretty-red blouse of blood release
Has rendered pale skin rosed
…
I bend inwards;
Your legs let my empty hand
Search inside the hour
Until this blue thickens in my face,
Thickens in your pain

You bleed prettily into eyes
Denied of red;
Mind's mist rubs against your ochred-olive bile
To blind all consternation
…
How still you grow
And how the greenery flickers
In your irises;
Above,
Lashes -
Their youth belies the blackened leaves
Compromising ruin -
You are become the devastation of a forest fire -
Trees denied their clarity of spring skies
Where at clear-blue height
I might have sensed
You bleed cerulean airs,
Ballad-smooth,
Drifting wraith-like
Into my mouth
So I could sing in harmony inside your very words -
Your tongue of cool-coo verse
Whispering other sense
Inside my ears

Now your ovum line
Begs for life begat;
Beyond the seams of death,
A smoother skin,
Pink-breasted backdrop to hard-cast areolae
Promenading ever-eager nipples
Shaking in your nerves -
Their rhythm soothes;
So I'll become the neonate of
Innocence
Like the child that earned its place
In your maternal hold -
Your heart:
Dove-wing beats lending life -
She coincides with heaving cage,
Pulses

I stop to view our cultured lands,
Where I become the regal oak,
Draw in the CO2,
Harden forests -
How they brown up the red skies
When dawn spills its blood across the dying days,
Flushing in the brutal face of winter
Before the grey-white menses
Bleeds its blanket,
Smothering lands

Yolk-eye tears -
The blood-shot white congealed -
Glint in womanhood,
Enter my domain,
Couple with our blood

As we peak,
Your moan is mine;
The valedictory coming
Bleeds purpose, ejaculating far inside
Your dead-black tunnel -
Acidic pathway
Lending to the life-wired swim

Jet-centred now,
Your eyes pinpoint my unclear thoughts
On what we mean as
One -
The age of oneness when we die

No! Bleed not your pretty-red blood! I beg you
Take it back!

Now swollen to darker depths
Your eyes
Take on feline wear: Sleek
They purr
As you lie asleep
Beneath a sheet of ugliness

I watch you melt -
Body, flame,
Soft-pink mind,
Gone!

Light fades,
Brings out the shadow-life
That sinks from greyness of a
Low-slung nimbostratus -
And we and they are one!
…
A chance to think:
Your pretty-red blood I'm here to drink
In solo at the silent bar -
No other soul to goad or mar
My train of thought -
Your pretty-red blood
That I had bought
…
To gloom again: Your comely arch curves
Prettily along a line
To trace out along your slipstream;
But it's lost, as is
The honeyed flesh
That made you beautiful

A will-o'-the-wisp -
Your closing mind -
Sighs ‘Goodnight'

I lean forward
For a pretty-red kiss

Your pretty-red blood
Amiss
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2014
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  16.     

A Valentine in Pain

A dream of hidden death,
Embedded in her flowers –
Dripping; drenched in nectar tears

Now the dream of dying soul;
Confined, a trembling heart is
Squeezing out the ember years

And in her dream of youth,
Abounding buttocks writhe,
Acting out the careless dares

But the dream of hideous beauty:
Self-delusion, begging fears

Evolving from an agonising birth, her
Blacker days eclipsing; draining worth

‘So ugly living calls to die –
Forever in the dreams I cry! ’

Erotic debt; a laughing lie
Were done for her –
A blade for sure!
The dreams to cure!

A calming sigh…

And in a smile of pain
She bled and waned
Her cold pathetic bye






Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010



















Suicide Suicide Suicide cried
Suicide Suicide Suicide died
Suicide Suicide Suicide sighed
Suicide Suicide Suicide lied

Suicide Suicide Suicide cried
Suicide Suicide Suicide died
Suicide Suicide Suicide sighed
Suicide Suicide Suicide lied


Suicide Suicide Suicide cried
Suicide Suicide Suicide died
Suicide Suicide Suicide sighed
Suicide Suicide Suicide lied


Suicide Suicide Suicide cried
Suicide Suicide Suicide died
Suicide Suicide Suicide sighed
Suicide Suicide Suicide lied

Suicide Suicide Suicide tried
Suicide Suicide Suicide ride!
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter