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Mark R. Slaughter

Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty

And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation

Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy

They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes

I rot
(They fade)

To be the plant
(They'll water)

I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter

Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind

That I of soul
Remain eternal

Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot

Flirts like a ballerina

STOPS

Wonders of the world

My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future

I'll wait
For his appraisal

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012










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A Trail of Death

death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death

Submitted: Thursday, May 10, 2012
Edited: Monday, May 21, 2012


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I pontificate as Death approaches -

Comments about this poem (A Winter Message by Mark R Slaughter )

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  • Anthony Di''anno (3/19/2013 4:32:00 AM)

    Who knows when death will come knocking? I died in the back of an ambulance once. No bright lights, trumpets etc. I was given CPR and came back. Up until that point I hadn't really cared about being alive. After that point I value each day. The best thing though is that the thought of dying no longer frightens me. It seems that dying freed me up to live my life.
    I enjoy your poetry Mark. It digs deep.

    2 person liked.
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