The novel is born of disillusionment; the poem, of despair.

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But Don't Despair

Despair, if you must –
But how's it going to pull you through?
Despair, when you trust
Naught since then there's naught to do.
Despair, should you thrust
Aside your pride, your self-esteem.
And so despair, if it's dust,
The only substance that you deem.
Despair, when a gust
Of slightly breeze can break your stance.
And do despair, when lust
Is your interpretation of romance.

But don't despair, if you can care
About the plight of any other being.
And you can focus on the help,
Support, and altruistic further actions
For the seeing. Be believing,
As despair will start receding
All around – simply since you found
A way to steer you clear
From this: the very cause of your despair!

So give to others; give them all a helping lift:
Despair, you'll find will disappear –
And that has got to be a well-deserved
And saintly gift!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009



Rain of despair

despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair

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Can A Poem Be Written Of Total Despair?

CAN A POEM BE WRITTEN OF TOTAL DESPAIR?


Can a poem be written of total despair?
Of life which has lost its meaning completely?
Can a poem be written of such sadness
That it pains night and day?
Can a poem be so deep in darkness
it will never yield light?

Or is the poem itself the sign
That the darkness is not dark forever
And the pain can go away
And despair too will have its own death
And life will once again begin to believe in itself
Even if only shakily?

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A Poem Is Just A Poem

a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem

a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about

anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's

poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be

a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice

thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist

on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,

need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem

it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so

this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.

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This Poem

THIS POEM

This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.

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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again

The poem the poem the poem again
Rescues me from despair
Gives me hope in a short time
That I am alive again.

The poem the poem the poem-
What would my life be without these poems now?
Where would I search for meaning?
Where would I find again and again
The courage to begin
The courage to end?

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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

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And If I Write Another Poem?

AND IF I WRITE ANOTHER POEM?

And if I write another poem?
What will it change?
What will it mean?
Another poem and another poem
And another poem-

And in them
Is their one true poem?

Even an old man should not despair so much,
But I do.
God forgive me
For this Cowardice.

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Despair Of The Early Morning

DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING

Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.

Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.

Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.

The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.

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Despair Is Darkness

DESPAIR IS DARKNESS

Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.

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I Weep I Weep - For The Lost Poem!

I weep I weep - for the lost poem!
I wrote it in the night
I wrote it in despair
When to my beating mind
There was no light.

I lament for the lost poem!
Was it torn? If no, where lies it?
I wrote it in despair
And now like a lost sheep
I fetch it.

How time passes!
How the black hair
To more graying hair
Will turn!

And in the meantime
My poem my lost poem
I rue.

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This is a poem....

This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.

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The Ravens

They say they were born of dirty blood and death.
For every one of them who was born under this claim
A mother has died.
Healthy they were
The bodies must be cleaned.
They were covered from head to toe in a thick layer nothing but blood.
It was said this is how they were blessed and cursed.
A gift bared in despair.


(Poem in a Story I'm Writting)

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No Unread Poem Will End The Despair I Feel Now

NO UNREAD POEM WILL END THE DESPAIR I FEEL NOW

No unread poem will end the despair I feel now
Nor will a poem read
By one or two.

Should the world say
I am a poet.
Perhaps this would mean something.

I don’t know.
No one knows,
No one cares.

I am a poet only for myself
And for myself too
This begins to be
Nothing.

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The World Does Not Need Another Poem Of Despair

THE WORLD DOES NOT NEED ANOTHER POEM OF DESPAIR

The world does not need another poem of Despair-
Complaint-
The world needs Kindness Joy Love Hope.

And who will give it to them?

Somewhere else young voices begin to be heard
While the old and sad fade away.

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A Poem Is A Cluster Bomb

A poem assemble ideas,
Concentrates experience
Await its time, place
For its own release
A Poem is a cluster bomb

A Poem explodes
Particle by particle
Projectile by projectile
Piece by piece,
Varying impact on the way
A poem is a cluster bomb

Out of a poem come wails
Out of a poem come hails
Out of a poem comes repair
Out of a poem comes despair
A Poem is a cluster bomb

It spreads in ripples
It travels like a storm
It is fashioned in riddles
It can pour painful scorn
A poem is a cluster bomb!

Friday,17th July,2009
Liverpool, UK

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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been

THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN

The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.

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Three Small Morning Poems Of Despair

THREE SMALL MORNING POEMS OF DESPAIR

NO POEM

No Poem
No Life
Nothing to write

ALL THE POEMS HAVE GONE AWAY

All the Poems have gone away
Nothing remains
I am lost
And my Life is lost with me.

THE END OF DESPAIR

The end of Despair
No longer here
No longer there
No longer anywhere
The End of Despair.

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I Was Alone With A Poem I Could No Longer Write

I WAS ALONE WITH A POEM I COULD NO LONGER WRITE

I was alone with a poem I could no longer write-
It was a love poem
A poem of youth
A poem of great sudden happiness
And terrible desolate loss
It was a poem of wild laughter
And a poem of despair which could never end
It was a poem of youth
Of love in youth
And I could not write it any more
Because I am not young
And love that kind of love
The love of the young in all its desperation and beauty
Is far far from me-

I was alone with a poem I could no longer write-
And my life too is such a poem
Where only I am real
And she - whoever she is-
Is never to be anymore.

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Thank U

How about getting off of these antibiotics
How about stopping eating when Im filled up
How about them transparent dangling carrots
How about that ever elusive kudo
Thank you india
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How about me not blaming you for everything
How about me enjoying the moment for once
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you
How about grieving it all one at a time
Thank you india
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was
The moment I touched down
How about no longer being masochistic
How about remembering your divinity
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How about not equating death with stopping
Thank you india
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence
Yeah yeah
Ahh ohhh
Ahhh ho oh
Ahhh ho ohhhhhh
Yeaahhhh yeahh

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