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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  1/31/2015 1:11:04 PM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  237.     

White Van Man

I’m not the van I used to be:

Beneath a grind of hypertension

I’m nothing more than
Muscle on a shoulder

Rings threading thro’ his flesh
Upon the lack of sun and regulation

But
He needs me

And I need him

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2013
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  238.     

WINDOW

Wither destination, lonely crowd?
If I could only reach to ask -
Not that I could breach the glass.
Down upon the street they’re marching proud!
Only they know why and wither where.
Window let’s me see but I don't hear.
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  239.     

Witch

Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.

That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.

Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.

O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.

And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.

But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011


































































































Under lust rain

lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  240.     

Women for the Men

To clasp a silken-textured breast
Is nothing but a daily quest
Of preternatural drive.

We wonder of the fulsome fare
Her bra undone might bring to bear -
Disclosing all so we may stare
For hours on end upon the pair of
Why-do-woman's-curves-ensnare-
the-brains-of-men? -

A bleak affair,
And why we still survive!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010




















































































woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter