Find me a Milk...
oh! lips that wait the taste of every growth
haul the strength that close to weak, await
until the fierce of death shadow the palm that
close, for dine is the end that witness to lose
footprints always mark the navel path, like
chariot that run ready to fight; thou bladed
spears hunted the warrior arms while the wheel
hold the sworn that cut, hail on capture blood,
clashes that never win and tossed the flame of
death return
oh! precious soul reborn, blade me to be born...
poem by Antonio Liao
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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,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Slash me out to go.......
hold your yes that tears, as i capture the halos
of the wind in my sand bag dust, please return
once more in my navel face where narrow unfold
story have i stay
weight my perfume and kiss my tears away,
knocking the doorstep of the window of my spirit
that force me to live, wait me up then. and lewd
me in the sole searching of my soul the
rendezvous of my stint, still swept me off, but yet!
wait me no more in my bosom heart my strength i
own
i leave no regret; as you come, i return as you
leave my deepest affection of my heart, showering
the plateau of my patience as you wept my tears in
my check, touching me, the shadow of my drifted
joy of your palm of tomorrows memories
as you come, holding the stream of hope, never
fade as it was, lurk the certainty of the coming;
willing to hypnotize the moment of the idyllic past
to see me change, you’ve been waiting for, you hold
me in a precious eyelid of tiding happiness of a
broken puzzle of chances of time, where i’ve seen
to rest
now, you’ll always in the edge of the surfing wind,
and ready to go, let the scene of the broken past
remembered of what was today in the isles of
the future ……
poem by Antonio Liao
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My Heart Is Ready
Be witness, good Gethsemane, great garden of My God,
Who fashioned this very body, its arteries and blood,
Who took the stars and made My eyes, put sunshine in My smiles
And now compels Me realise this world and Satan's wiles...
Be witness, good Gethsemane, great garden, day and night,
That I behold My Calvary, yet I must not take flight,
The coward's path has nought to gain, as faith bids Me to stay,
Till Judas sells My soul in vain before the end of day...
Be witness, good Gethsemane, great garden, truly blessed,
Where life still blossoms gracefully surviving every test,
For I am like the Tree of Life transplanted on a hill,
With fruits and flowers healing strife according to God's will.
Be witness, good Gethsemane, of Christ, the great I AM
And His triumphant tragedy, Good Shepherd and God's Lamb,
None other pleases Him to die, atoning for Man's sins,
Though Man himself cries, 'Crucify! ' and kills the Precious Prince...
Be witness, good Gethsemane, of life then death and more,
According to God's prophecy, appeasement to His Law,
One righteous act, one life, one soul, one duty to perform,
Till I have served this mortal role, My blood no longer warm...
Be witness, good Gethsemane, of all these truths to learn,
Yet mark My words, My destiny is that I must return,
For Death has feeble threads to hold the Holy Son of Man...
My heart is ready to unfold My Father's perfect plan...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Bow Before My Death
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
He takes my hand,
And holds me close,
Death embraces me,
He says the time has come,
Beginning now meets end,
He says the fires taken me,
And now it's time to walk,
Walk the path of fates sweet song.
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
The fires stripped me of my sins,
Humility my pride,
Now death guides me through the dark,
And speaks to me kind words,
'The pain has stopped,
It won't come back,
Your senses now are cleansed,
The soul has been washed clean',
He says the end is pleasure.
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
Death's a man clothed in blue jeans,
A white shirt stained with blood,
Death holds a knife,
Death slits my throat,
Death is the end of my beginning.
I lie beneath the flame this night.
I bow before my death.
poem by Holly Heron
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Why Do I Feel Death So Near?
Why do I feel death so near?
Even as I hold my love so dear
I live in a world that’s filled with fear
So do the rest of us as I hear
Why do I feel death so close?
As I live in a state repose
Even when the light shines so gross
There is a shadow moving close
Why do I feel death so nigh?
Even when my heart is so high
With my love in my arms in by and by
A looming death draws by and I sigh
Why do I feel death is imminent?
Even as my love is penultimate
Treating as a constituent
Death do come so relevant
Why do I feel death so bore?
Maybe because it is at my door
poem by Alex Fischer
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The Power Of Thy Sword
Lord of battle I pray on bended knee conquest by the rising sun
I'll wait for thy command with flame and blood at hand
glory and a broken sword.
I'm the master of the world I have no fear of man or beast
Born inside the soul of the world
Riding hard breaking bone with steel and stone
Eternal might I was born to wield.
Let us drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
The clash of honor calls
I will stand when others fall
Open magic doors
The will know the power of my sword
There is blood in my hands there is blood in my eyes
With blood in my voice I scream as you die
Thirsting for vengeance and mounds of the slain
Shaking the forest onto the plain
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
They will know the power of my sword
song performed by by Manowar from The Triumph Of Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Warrior's Prayer
Long since, in sore distress, I heard one pray,
'Lord, who prevailest with resistless might,
Ever from war and strife keep me away,
My battles fight!'
I know not if I play the Pharisee,
And if my brother after all be right;
But mine shall be the warrior's plea to thee--
Strength for the fight.
I do not ask that thou shalt front the fray,
And drive the warring foeman from my sight;
I only ask, O Lord, by night, by day,
Strength for the fight!
When foes upon me press, let me not quail
Nor think to turn me into coward flight.
I only ask, to make mine arms prevail,
Strength for the fight!
Still let mine eyes look ever on the foe,
Still let mine armor case me strong and bright;
And grant me, as I deal each righteous blow,
Strength for the fight!
And when, at eventide, the fray is done,
My soul to Death's bedchamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Death’s Too Near
Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!
Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!
Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Hear The Loud Laugh Of The Angels
trumpeters
of the sky hear the marble
fall from the enduring tears
of the soul;
the vast land, wet the sacred
ground of the flowering nest of truth
lips have capture and spoil
the wind
of salvation, astray to where the
gains of rest restore,
let there be the
miter and staff of Abraham and faith
be reborn
now the melody
have begin and the Angels
hold the urn,
take what is left
tell nothing than yourself that
the day has to close and the curtain
started
to lose for the Angels of darkness
have wish to laugh for joy
catch up the rain and be sober
to wait...
poem by Antonio Liao
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Warrior, Mind and Soul
come to think of it...
my head is tilted toward and against
breaking the wall of enmity, chatting with mighty warrior
victory has come to stay...
i cannot be a slave to the soul that weak, crawling, no not me
i will show my trophy to the simple soul, but the warrior
rejoice with me.
travel in thick darkness, fear nothing but the flies the can touch and reach me soul and mind because strength come within
i cannot stay here any more, lofty in the air ready to fly
because even warrior and the mighty have gone to sleep
rule my world among the simple..
sleep sleep sleep they said but...
no soldier sleep not in the battle unless is ready to be sacrificed inn the shire... yes winner wins and loser lose
all in the shadow of illusion... fear cast away standing
on the hill and say
victory! victory! victory.. to the mind and soul of the warrior
poem by Oluwajobi John
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My Darkest Hour
My darkened eyes for death craves
sacred souls it fails to raise
death will soon be by my side
death soon will save me
God I’m your weakest slave
you can never leave me alone
join shall I soon be damned
for what I did down on earth
I carry this blessed glass of wine
will shove my fear down my swallowed
hypnotized underground demise
close to fragility it ends. Tonight.
Oh sweet death.
Sweet as I can taste
my soul you’re taking
I lay for you
oh death how warm
how warm you feel
your black wings you hold me down
please stay with me always by my side
Loneliness for God I stay
I pray, I hold my hands up
I know you hear me God
I’m asking for my downfall
you’ll cease it all at once
handful of mercy and death
close my eyes for once
close my eyes forever
Seems another attribute of death
cancer and shit, and disease all at once
forbidden to fall, to grieve to die
leave me for myself
by myself.
poem by Rakan Sliman
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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
A Trail of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Night Close
Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned -
No one cried or mourned.
Scorned by all
- My fellow race -
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.
Line of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death in Reflection
Am I you
And are you me –
So each other we can see?
And do you think the way I do –
Feel the pain I’m going through?
Mull on thoughts the same as I –
Wonder why you always cry?
See me shriveled with disease –
Shrinking down on crumpled knees?
Look away from sight of age –
Reading now the final page?
Study you those darkened eyes –
Portentous now of close demise?
Smitten so to say farewell –
For us together in death excel?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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Death death death death death death death death death
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sun And Steel
You killed your first man at 13
Killer instinct, Animal supreme
By 16 you had learned to fight
The way of the warrior, you took it as your right
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Through earth and water, fire and wind
You came at last - nothing was the end
Make a cut by fire and stone
Take you and your blade and break you both in two
Break you both in two
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel - rolling on and on
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel - and it's rolling still
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sworn To Love
My heart is sworn to love
to another, anothers name
etched into my soul
the night in which we sleep
I hold close their thought
that I may never let them go
my heart is sworn to love
my heart is sworn to them
as beautiful as I could speak
no words shall surfice
to praise more that name
I hold close in each night
it is to such devotion
it is to such thought
I find myself forever sworn
sworn to love
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Fantasy
To find my love
I just close my eyes.
And feel her touch
Return to me.
A flame re lit
Before goodbyes.
For all our joys
- Are fantasy.
To feel her lips
Touch mine so true.
I'm lost
In moon blue reverie.
Escaping from this human zoo.
Where my hopes
Still breathe
- In fantasy.
To hold her close
That we are one.
And taste the fruit
From love's own tree.
Two hearts to pump
One blood to run.
And course through veins
- Of fantasy.
poem by Kevin East
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Hail is the Father
strength muscle my heart
suite to fly in the wind of time
nay dark and light
show me the way to find,
even my feet stumble
and die
look all
ashes leave my lips close
holding my
barely breathe
that leads my sweat mistake;
come over look
the hands
that wave, the ocean floor
I call for the clouds taste
the weary eyes that close
I’ve seldom give
feel me not the
Hail gesture of the
Father as the white flame finds
to leave
my soul to eternal
heaven to lie
splendid color cover
my lasting cry...
poem by Antonio Liao
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