Within Clouds Poem by Mark R Slaughter

A tunnel flared –
The inner glow scorched
A soul:

I had an awful role to play –
To say and not to pray.

I took a bowl of energy –
Tired batteries charged –
River nerves awoke –
For I was just electrons –
Though my attention spun around
To catch those other particles of nature:
Beauty quarks
And anti-beauty quarks –
What the hell are they? –
Ugly; beauty; beauty; ugly.

Life spins within the clouds:
Impossibilities are best approached by lesser mortals
Via quanta of drinks:
Cider blurs
And I concur
I’m neither physicist nor anarchist –
‘Tis best I drift in time –
A state far more sublime for brain
To take the strain
Despite oblivion at the door.

Now, bye-bye world –
Poetry doesn’t cut it anymore:

You can’t romanticise
The quest of science.

I’m just a compromise
Between the eyes of mediocrity.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011