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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  12/21/2014 4:38:18 AM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  289.     

Ovum

As I view the egg that rests
Inside your head,
I catch the camouflage,
Marvel at the riddling colour –
Splashed, blotched –
How so? –

And oft my eyes adored you
Through that ovum,
Cranium holding oddities of thought
That sparkled blues;
And then I drift down towards
The fleshy, alien-like apparatus assembled there –
As if through randomness –
That constitutes the area
Between your legs.

The sight stared back
Stoically,
As if to say:
‘There are no metrics in the act –
Not if you, the man, would clear
Familiarity, and
Make her come through expectation, anticipation.’

My eyes drift upwards, returning to the shell –
It seemed to render her skull translucent.
Perhaps it was her brain.
Perhaps I need to make her come through a wish.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2013
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  290.     

Paradox

A seething forest borne of kwashiorkor:
Ever-bulging beacons of the famine, calling out,
Calling out across the empty space,

Calling out.

Their brown eyes can't focus -
Burnt horizons blurred,
So what's the difference?
Their eyes again -
Portals to an abyss.

Dryness of bone-stretched skin,
Like a cratered moonscape,
Parches the mind.
Everything is cinder-covered,
Baking darker, as the UV rays team
From an indifferent sun
Conniving with
Precocious drifts of dead ground.

Do they think of Gaia? -
Or even God?

Yet other bulging bellies
- Belt-bursting, blubber-laden -
Hung heavy under mocking pull of gravity.
And overhead - sagging ever further -
Mushy tit sacks poised to jump their bras.
Faces glare with lipstick and eyelash promenades,
While drunken smirks
Further paint the fool.

They're off to binge-brink.

Later, pasty dials puke soup of alcohol and
Grin peculiarities.
Night fades; burger van queues puff at fags
And spatter out ‘f*cks' and ‘innits'.

Do they think of God
Or Gaia?

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011









































































Rain God

god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
god god god god god god god god god god god god
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  291.     

Paranoia

Would you reconsider flesh

of mine

to grace that warm exquisite folding
(cursed upon the monthly moon
that lines the inner you with blood)
in synchrony atop the shaking
making love

Are we not a house of mansions?

I’d swallow your presence
assimilate anew
another woman
just for me
to see you through
should inner shards of reconsideration
dare to claim denial

I’ll be your path to trial:
in isolation
primed
for cold obliteration

You would not dare

for after all
I know you care
about your arrogance –
the weight of breast

BULGING –

prideful glands
that seek out the male promontories
up to raise their temperature

You are the ruins
in naked fall

you must
recall

Pull in your legs
and be prepared;

I shan’t deny

You have to die

And how I’ll cry
For THEM!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2013
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  292.     

Pen It!

The blood of poems:
arterial words
fading in the filtrate,
transudate, exudate; ‘tis never fair -
and even in the hair the letters grey;
a poem is but ephemeral -
so pen it right away!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter