Mark R Slaughter


The Little Pond - Poem by Mark R Slaughter

Brain bits
Upon the ground

SPIT

Contains an element
Testament
Pain
Irreverent
Irrelevant

Thrumming
In a drowned-out
Overtone

A soul floats
Survives
Just



In all I spat
A call

See it
Swimming
Frothing as it swears

Amylase dying
Denatured

Saliva speaks alone
Clears the ire



I feel as grey as lead
Dark death-grey
Accentuating weight
Cold weight
Cold-grey death-weight

My message
Frothing in the dirt
The little pond
Inside us

Outside
Fucks me up

We hide
Inside a mother



I turn to drink

I'll drink to that

Will SHE?
The quiet
Mirrored eyes of

Psychic
50: 50

Love
As 40: 60 -

I'll check for her disguise

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012


Comments about The Little Pond by Mark R Slaughter

  • Silver Star - 3,528 Points Godfrey Morris (7/31/2012 8:07:00 PM)

    Very interesting write. I always enjoy your poems; so unique. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 26, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, July 27, 2012


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