On Keats, Who Desired That On His Tomb Should Be Inscribed
'Here lieth One whose name was writ on water.
But, ere the breath that could erase it blew,
Death, in remorse for that fell slaughter,
Death, the immortalizing winter, flew
Athwart the stream,--and time's printless torrent grew
A scroll of crystal, blazoning the name
Of Adonais!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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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

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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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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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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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Sinner's Visit from Death
Whence the reek, the sombre clouds?
Those of billows gargantuan;
Of storms immense, blushing black,
Wishing sought of me to assess?
And have I passed? I have?
Hence I hear a knock on oak;
Unwelcomed, dullened cloak
Flowing dourly - it was a bitter breeze.
‘Have you mulled my sins? ' I ask.
‘Have you seen my impotence -
Though observe destruction at mine hands?
Forgive me, I am but Man.'
‘And are not sinners forgiven? ' I excuse,
‘Hence forgiveness avoids me of Hell?
Must my Demons of Sin revisit eternally
And reflect back on me to suffer well
The synergy of vengeance and wrath?
Are you not now pitying of my terror?
See my withering, regretful flesh -
Feel you not my tardy repentance? '
But Death just focused his stare,
That which pierced my pulseless heart,
For I was empty of remorse in all my years.
He knew that - and led me away.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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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
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Death death death
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Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Punishment
There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.
Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.
And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?
And will He care...?
'Tis down to Him.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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No Remorse
No mercy for what we are doing
No thought to even what we have done
We don't need to feel the sorrow
No remorse for the helpless one
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Blood feeds the war machine
as it eats its way across the land
We don't need the feel the sorrow
No remorse is the one command
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Only the strong survive
No one to save the weaker race
We are ready to kill all comers
Like a loaded gun right at your face
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Attack
Bullets are flying
People are dying
with madness surrounding all hell's breaking loose
Soldiers are hounding
Bodies are mounting
cannons are shouting to take their abuse
With war machines going
Blood starts to flowing
No mercy given to anyone hear
The furious fighting
Swords are like lighting
It all becomes frightening to you
Know death is near
No remorse
song performed by by Metallica from Kill 'Em All

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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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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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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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The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Death's Wings
Death was a bird that night
An ugly, vicious bird
Death's claws scratched at me
But flew away when I didn't bleed.
As it flew, darkness fell
Wings blocking out the moon.
Death screetched in frustration
When it couldn't break my skin
Death was too obvious
And realised.
Death swooped low that night
And caught her by suprise
Not a sound left its beak, nor her mouth
And death was silently satisfied.
To strike again was simple
Death had learnt a new trick.
And so began a time
That death shed its feathers.
poem by Danielle Guscott

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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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An Epitaph For Keats
THROUGH one, years since hanged and forgot
Who stabbed backs by the Quarter,
Here lieth one who—while Time's stream
Runneth, as God hath taught her,
Bearing man's fame to men,—will have
His great name writ in water.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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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
death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Beldame of Death
A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!
I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.
I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.
Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.
A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…
'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '
Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:
'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!
Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '
I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...
On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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For Death
Death is
Not a danger...
Death is
Good silince...
Death is
Not a fear...
Death is peace...
Death is
Not for cry...
Death is
Only at happy..
Death is
Not distup for
All... all...
why...!
Death is
Simply with out
Breath...
For others
Not for relatons
And dead body's...
At same time
Death is one of
Birth...
O...soory for sins...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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I cannot forget the month of June
I cannot forget
The month of June
My memories
Take to my child hood
The Sun was hot red
And the sky blue
Hot winds blew
Little Cuckoo flew
In the dreaded heat
From the coziness
Of her nest
In search of water
And food
Couldn’t bear the heat
Of the sun
Fell on the ground
Gasping for breath
I saw the bird
Took her in my lap
Gave food and water
And saved its life
When evening came
The cuckoo flew back
To its cozy nest
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela

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Death's Dance
One cold winter's night amid a storm
I heard a knock at the door
It was Death asking to warm himself
Beside the fire so I let him in
You may think I was insane but quite the contrary
Death is the origins of all our joy and sorrow
For without Death, there is no life
Without Death, there are no drums
Death played his song while I danced
Though I didn't know the steps
All the while my love for Him grew
And when I finally stopped
I found myself weeping...
Because at last I understood.
poem by Robin Pitt

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