Mark R Slaughter Poems

If you could know how much I make,
I'm sure to see you blush!
To reap the stipend that I do
Will mean, therefore, I look at you
...

The sky is always changing –
Can't it settle down?
Shades of blue, then reddy hue,
Puffs of grey and white;
...

Winter was at war.
Her subterfuge:
Crumble grey-white flakes upon the scene.
...

A flower stands erect upon the stem.

Odd:
It bears the naked flesh of many men –
...

Still an irritating wind;
Vestiges of stubborn grey –
Jibing us of recent winter blight.
...

Now back when I was 28,
I met and loved a 38 –
DD!
...

A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
...

Not a vision, apparition – blue-cold shroud of ghoul,
just a sense –
only that you know
through psychic penetration;
...

Under reassuring gaze
These fingers find a route -
Slide thro' gaps of blouse
To warmer lands
...

Dipsomaniac - his elbow
Resting on the bar: that man was
In the pub throughout his life. He
Never really stopped to think,
...