There is a heart with wings
That flies beneath a golden sun that illuminates its shape
Brightening the dark of its red
Sometimes the heart moves gently
Jostling in the air that surrounds it
It does not lower or fade, at least as the mortal eye can see
The heart is and shall be eternal, from some points of view
Made of paint, nails and wood
Containing a message, if not possessing a name
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Love knows your name
You wear it on your sleeve
Like a pin or bumper sticker
Signifying
What you can conceive
Imbued with
All you believe
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
March is ever undecided
Nothing in the cold wind
Or the warming air
Betrays its mind
Or intentions
I’ll decide
When I decide
March decries
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Eyes on the prize
Hands on the wheel
Earn what I can
Rest of it I’ll steal
All comes around again
This life’s all a wheel
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Linked in my mind
Through the hazy smoke of years
Burned by
Without me noticing
In the record store
They once again look at me
From the dusty bins
Side by side
Their world
That which was
Seems impossible
As today will seem
In 50 years
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
His heart is not stone
But metal
He is of man
Not man
Among the grapes he sits
Fragile
Every dying
He does not smile
He merely is.
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
When I let them measure my worth
That is when I failed
And fell asleep
Now I am awake
And I will fill my life
With that which I value
Not the value
Which they judge me
To be worth
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
I’m tired
Of entertainments
I’m fatigued
By breaking news
I’m fragile
From pronouncements
Of what
I stand to loose
I choose
To recluse
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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