Similar Worlds
The world married to another world,
Pleasing us with its thoughts always.
May it be forbidden to slaughter someone else,
Placing blame on others for their own misdeeds.
Heaven created a slaughter to be known widely
And then the slaughter was not known widely,
Instead there was no slaughter.
For it was the world that held slaughter in its own hands,
Worsening ties with some people elsewhere.
A shining new working planet evolved
And flew one way and only a way that was an orbit,
For it was not a flat world, but round,
Like the balls it contained of spherical shape
Most pleasing to the sight.
Each world was a majestic creation
And these worlds were similar.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
‘To the Slaughter-house’- A Cattle-song!
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cows all go;
We gave men milk and butter, ghee;
They want our beef now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we oxen go;
We tilled their lands and milled oil-seeds;
They want our hide now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we sheep all go;
We grazed their meadows, eating grass;
They want our mutton now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cattle go;
We served mankind as God said so;
Selfish men want our flesh now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we animals go;
Jostled, huddled, unfed, crowded;
Men want our lives now;
This is our last ride, we all know;
We’ve no other go.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-20-2008
poem by John Celes
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Thirteen Lines
A brain peered through stoic eyes;
Yet all it saw was rendered into
Flawed interpretation –
No honoured contemplation of a
Gluon, muon, quark of any flavour;
Nor a vision or conception of its world
Within a universe anthropic in its physical laws,
Inside a boundless multiverse.
All it gleaned and modelled
Bore parochialism well beyond belief! –
Delusional perhaps.
Survival only matters here on planet Earth –
Evolution saw to that.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
na ture nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Den
Brain walls: bio-insulation keeps me cosy
in my hidden room.
Eye balls: bio-windows let me peer and sneer
upon our filthy race, with
Ear holes – bio-microphones – assuming tones
I only wish to face.
Inside, I flit between assimilation,
fantasy, and desperation – each another room
for me to occupy –
as in a nest or burrow, a honeycombed hive –
fathoming which to best survive in;
harbour me from that outside.
Shit! It’s just as bad in here –
I need another den to hide in!
So where’s a niche to keep me from the world,
but also from my rabid head?
Yes, of course –! it’s being dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide suicide
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Battles are won by slaughter and maneuver. The greater the general, the more he contributes in maneuver, the less he demands in slaughter.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
death death death death death death death death death death death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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satans Rule
The wicked smiles n helpless cries
U hav stabbed the world wid ur steady lies
corrupt devils, terrorists, tearing the world apart
what in gods name, to the depth has stabbed your heart
when will this war end, y dsnt sympathy arouse
the world remains nothing but a slaughter house
who will gather these shattered lives
will the world always bow, as satan arrives
humanity isnt prepared for such a hideous sight
where darkness has blinded the sole gathering light..........
poem by Pooja Ladyluck
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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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All on Earth
I died so many times in empathy,
Cried so many rhymes in sympathy,
Dreaming out the horrors in the dark –
Imbibing all the agony. Embark
I must, on travels out from gentle home –
A flagellating path; a track to roam:
I am to Hell to go, to ruin, aflamed,
And there, in queerest irony, be framed
In curse: what all on dubious earth have done:
The race to kill our planet has begun.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Aztecs were perhaps the most successful regime of terror the world has ever seen. They carried out mass murder... staged as an exultant feat of human butchery. They recorded the slaughter in an orgy of death imagery.
Nigel Spivey in How Art Made The World
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Beautiful One
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.
Oh beautiful creature, sail me do,
As floating on seas of halcyon blue tincture.
You beautiful being, gracing charm
And features that render feel of deep texture.
Your beautiful poise in glide supreme,
Gives such like a vista honed as from heaven.
That beautiful art of face ornate,
Not ever to understate or be riven.
Your beautiful flame of pulchritude
Doth dizzy me high, so I conclude always
You beautiful girl forever be
My shining Janette; my guide; my stairway.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
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beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
And see if I am thee.’
To be alone beside a soul
Afloat, adrift; an empty ghoul
Alone in woe; the yearning flesh
To fill a thin, contorted mesh
Diffuse atop an icy floor, alone.
So much alone in fact, I lack
The tonal vibrancy of life:
I am a song without a tune
alone;
A greying sky in June
alone;
The blueness of a sullen moon
– waning in a starless night–
alone;
Coasting down a weedy pass
alone;
The only image in the glass
alone;
To meet a certain heavy fate
– to turn and shut the knurly gate–
…alone.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
alone alone alone alone
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Tabloid Pigs
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
Tomorrows chip-papers looking thin
The hacks and waiting to be hacked
Front page headline ‘Karma wins’
The corrupt uncaring vices you undertook
On which you built your little empire
Is now falling apart around your feet
You have no friends left in this town
Now after every story you ran
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
Come answer to your crimes
Stand, be counted for what you’ve done
In the public interest I do believe
Is what you have always said
You were not journalists or news reporters
Just vile little piggy’s snorting around
In the dirt for what you could sell
Regardless of crime or consequence
Tabloid pigs to the slaughter house
The time has come, last edition
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Coup Detat
On the border
Theres disorder
Now theyve gone too far
Wait for the coup detat
Fragmentation
We dont know who we are
Wait for the coup detat
No choice
Look what weve become
World peace
At the point of a gun
The voice
That calls everyone
Says fight
For a place in the sun
Proud mans daughter
Came through slaughter
But she still bears the scars
Wait for the coup detat
Declaration
cross the nation
Hailed as a rising star
Wait for the coup detat
Too late
To make any plans
The state
Has met her demands
We wait
For the blood on her hands to dry
On the border
Theres disorder
Proud mans daughter
Came through slaughter
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Divorce
Why do we have to slaughter
our love in the gallows
of rudeness and indifference?
Why do we have
to chop off our love
with the sharp knives
of hate, anger and fear?
Why do we have to come
to these gallows
and slaughter our love?
Why do we have to proclaim
the death of our love?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
death death death death death death death death death death death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It's a major part of world history that men are trying to kill each other. It's just one slaughter after the other. We talk about it, but no one's really listening.
America, the Truth
George Washington
did not part the Red Sea,
and lead us into the
Promised Land...
God, not even a white God,
did not tell us to...
slaughter the Native Americans,
and take their lands by force!
we are not the 'chosen people'!
we're just people, people
like all other people
around the world!
first, and foremost,
we are citizens of the world.
any blessing we have received
comes with the responsibility
to share it with the world...
not to force our idealogies
whether for profit or pride...
if we stand for freedom,
it means freedom for all...
regardless of color, creed,
or nationality...
we cannot rise any higher
than our actions...
cannot liberate without
first liberating ourselves...
cannot build a future
without including all
of humanity, great and small!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lonely You; Lonely I
You say you are lonely.
Are you? Come see MY solitary world.
I am lonely:
Not the ‘generally feeling lonely’ feeling –
You know, the ‘I need a cuddle 'cos I’m feeling a bit lonely today’ feeling;
Or the ‘I’m on my own today so I think I need to call up a friend’ feeling.
No, I mean the terror and depression of cold isolation;
That Black Hole of raw solitude;
The nadir you arrive at after a steady spiral downwards, inwards.
And suffocation by the blanket of social invisibility
Which insidiously greyed out your psyche without your knowing.
You know, when you alight on the platform of endless alcoholic days;
When you’re sprawled vacant and naked in the corner of your filthy room,
Oblivious to the scurrying life outside –
That which doesn’t acknowledge your existence anyway:
That’s lonely.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Linger and linger
Ego slaughter
Rock fighter
I wonder
You are here.
Is hiding place here
I know not
Staying behind
You told me clear.
Beginning is the end
You told me again
And I denied
Telling I can win
And I can.
Ego slaughter
Rock fighter
I'm not far
I'm near.
And I wander
You are here
And our love
Linger and linger.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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