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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter  7/25/2014 1:43:33 AM
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  Best Poems From
  MARK R SLAUGHTER (1957)
 
 
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  289.     

My Fossil

Bowels in pain

Thro' wrench of torsion

Call down to
Death's open mouth

Calls back
Thro' woody tongue
Renting drum

He hears

The hideous craftsman
Frames out a box

Comfort for the corpse
Eternal

Thoughts infernal
Open wound of mind

When I carbonise
Fossilise

Will partnered parts of oak

Betray

A sort of cloak?

SU LPH UR

Through the stench

Hell

Drizzles
Upwards!

To go

I croak.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  290.     

My Happy New Year

I tripped,
Fell into a new year.

Heavy hung elusive cheer
Atop a pool of stagnant hope;
A grubby smear upon the faint horizon.

I puzzled in a maze of cancer-blessing fags,
Took to weed; drawing drags, I felt
The desperation surge within.
Search for peace wore ever thin.

If I were freed from self-perpetuation
Of negation – deep depression –
I’d clamber for a life that had a meaning.

It isn’t working.
I think I’ll stick with dreaming
Yet again.




Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  291.     

Not Human

Steely carcass eyes me down
In grit of stance, without romance.
Mulling or reasoning do not exist
In yammering circuits:
You do your job without recourse
With focused aim on driving force.
I just evanesce
Beneath your shining might, regress.

But do you weep or even care?
Have you humour, wish to share?

Do you suffer mental strain,
Let wine enthral, succumb to pain?

Are you graced with living flesh
In sensuous skin,
With heartening pulse to underpin?

Are you blessed with colleagues wise -
Thoughtful patrons to advise?

‘Irrelevant, ' is all I see conveyed,
To force me ponder while dismayed:
You're naught in constitution;
Automaton institution;
Creative destitution
Devoid of resolution:
Alas, you are not human.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 

   
   
 

  292.     

On The Beauty of Betelgeuse

Black up there
Tonight - good seeing
For ‘scopes
And hopes;
Orion reminds -
Betelgeuse is blowing.

Teasing, in a way,
The competition -
Who's to go before
The other? -

Yet we partner, blushing
Knowing - a sort of conscientiousness -
For neither bears control;
We're warming -
The hidden disingenuousness
Is playing out our role.

Betelgeuse's beauty
Bears a legend,
Frowning at the portent
In our stubbornness.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
 
Mark R Slaughter
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Mark R Slaughter