Mark R Slaughter
Biography of Mark R Slaughter
Mark R. Slaughter is a biological scientist who took up poetry to challenge his written skills. He undertakes commissions and collaborative projects, for which details are available on his website MarkRSlaughter.com. Examples include 'Liquid Rooms', a large-scale work for orchestra and soprano by the Danish composer Karsten Fundal (premiered on 3rd October 2014, by The Odense Symphony Orchestra) , and 'Death of Leaves', a song cycle for soprano and orchestra by the American composer Nicholas Anthony Ascioti. In March 2014, 'Lonely Life' was recited on the BBC by the actor Mark Benson as an introduction to a documentary on loneliness. Further poems such as Marriage and Spring are featured in his pages on the 'Poets Pages' website.
Mark R Slaughter Poems
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,
'Alone! ' I Cried
'Alone! ' I cried again. 'Alone I am with me! Lonely in a world of mist Alone, I reach to touch your wrist
Bitter Blow Of Love
Love! you dealt a bitter blow – You lay me cross the mortal plains, Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
Apparition Of A Butterfly
Upon a fuzzy vista – vision blurred – I tried to focus; nothing ever solid Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked An eye to try again. Through the mist
With glass, I am a man – or so I think! – A role to play when blessed with courtly drink: A gin or two, then vintage port or wine To pep me up and gift me with a shine.
Dawn blushed – betrayed her waking sky To gently break another morrow fine. Night waned – the black receding – highland Reaching for the early morning wine.
Oh beautiful one, adorned with spell To ravage my world as might a sweet angel. Oh beautiful thing, so much at ease: Allure of caressing breeze in touch gentle.
A Valentine In Pain
A dream of hidden death, Embedded in her flowers – Dripping; drenched in nectar tears
Death And I
When death comes I’ll need not love – Consumed, No wreath or dove
A Country Path In Late Spring
The path of mossy ground nestled In between maternal hedgerows, That overgrew atop, dimming down The brilliance of the day.
Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep, Work, sleep, work, sleep, Work, sleep, work, sleep, Work:
My Sneaking Tears
How heavy fell the rain that day From burdened clouds of mournful grey. The torrent forced them stay their height - Composure swayed by onerous might.
Death is in the flower's heart – Why to cry for life of any petal? Death in purple ink of weary pens
You, The Dark
Dark, She is the mind of yours. Icy chill of thought becomes A steely shimmer. Behold a glimmer in the black -
Your intellect humbles with shattering blow!
Omnipotent, you are at one with the world.
There's no need to seek, as you already know:
Explained, reconciled, all so neatly unfurled.
Those complex equations are pliable toys,
And yours just to play with and loosen your mind.
Hypotheses and theories are also your boys -
In your world, together, all cosily enshrined.