The exits of the Ikea
Have been theorized but never found
In its halls
The moans of the forsaken
Make such a mournful sound
Yet when I see
Lingoberry preserves
I find joy is all around
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
The exits of the Ikea
Have been theorized but never found
In its halls
The moans of the forsaken
Make such a mournful sound
Yet when I see
Lingoberry preserves
I find joy is all around
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
The rain the sun
The bud the pollen
The flower the leaf
The fruit the seed
Spring undeniable
Again in its glory
Winter’s toll taken
The fallen both recalled
And unremembered
Now is the time of
The unencumbered
And new responsibility
Awakening comes slow
Then sudden
Like the flood of the
Mountain stream
White and cold with
Anger and breakneck
Speed, ice no longer
Controlling and slowing
Its pace, What did I
Believe yesterday?
It seems so distant
I am who I was, but
There is the reckoning
That maybe I was wrong
Believing the cycle broken
And the world to be colder
Than it once was
Winter is nothing if not
A capable illusionist
Claiming things broken and
The cycle ceased
Yet it comes again
The rain
The sun
The bud
The pollen
The flower
The leaf
The fruit
The seed
Unbroken
Just in time
Overwhelming me
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Gatsby develops Android apps
In the modern day
Daisy has a reality show
That’s a career in a way
Tom is the son of patent lawyer
Who went to Duke to play lacrosse
Nick is still choking on whiskey and words
As his body pays the cost
The world still glitters in the distance
The LED screen cuts down on the glare
It all seems so charmed
Until you finally make your way there
Nostalgia fills the empty
Where music fills the night
I’d say I saw them dancing
But the word fleeing seems more right
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
I went looking for a story
Amongst the oceans
Sands and dirt
Instead I found
A world so overwhelming
I barely see it still as Earth
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
The beat knows my name
Earbuds almost shake loose
Tonite the street knows
I ain’t going to stay the same
Going slip my neck outta this noose
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
Worst thoughts of my mind
Suddenly arrive uninvited
Attempts to ignore only tightly loop and bind
Slowly making it harder to fight it
In the end I find
I must acknowledge it not losing sight
That which comes unbidden
Cannot be ignored away
Attempts to keep it hidden
Invite a longer stay
When the mind is twisted and ridden
Your rituals have no sway
Speak of it
Do not run
They fade away
When faced with light and sun
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
For those whose minds get away from them sometimes.
I awoke to a black blindness
In my bed
Fevered and sweaty I was
Filled with
Growing dread
Yet what I found
Was my cat sleeping
Upon my head
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
The train passes a massive amount of blue lights lining both sides of South Boulevard. I stare out at the cop cars as a large group of people are lined up outside an apartment complex with their hands in the air. They fade in the distance as the train speeds on. I look down at my phone. The train slows up and stops at the Archdale station. People exit and board. As the train begins to move I look out the window again. There is someone looking into my eyes. It is a man running next to the train with a colorful soccer jersey on. His face is heavily tattooed. He looks at me with a slight smile as he keeps pace with the train. After a bit he can no longer keep up. He winks at me, makes a big smile and gives me a thumbs up. I look back and see two policeman running after him in pursuit.
“You know that guy?” a young woman asks who is sitting facing me on the train.
“No, don’t know him,” I reply.
“Well I sure like his positive attitude,” she says nodding seriously. “World needs more positivity.”
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina in 1998. I had never lived in the South before and I quickly learned the phrase ‘bless your heart’ could mean any number of things both positive and negative. It was the inflection or the timing or the smiling or sad face that accompanied the phrase that mattered more. Often later there might be a moment that whoever spoke the words ‘bless your heart’ to you pulled you aside and spoke in a more intimate manner, clarifying their feelings or checking on yours. Sometimes a quiet discussion was the best way to challenge someone or to console them. 1998 was a strange moment in Charlotte. It had been a city forced to change by its own residents, by companies that moved there, by the Supreme Court, by all sorts of factors. There had been far fewer quiet discussions, much more yelling in the years that preceded it. From Julius Chambers presenting arguments for Swann vs. the Mecklenburg County Board of Education in 1971 to Pat McCrory fighting with theater director Keith Martin on Good Morning America over the NEA funded Angels in America in 1996 just two years earlier, the region was always in flux.
It’s been almost 20 years since then. People rarely say bless your heart in Charlotte now and the city is ground zero for a battle over a law called HB2. I don’t miss the phrase much, I never really figured it out. I do miss people who spoke quietly and considered their words though. They were skills that those people had learned the hard way. They witnessed the failures of yelling. People don’t hear you when you yell. They only hear the volume. There is yelling everyday now. Sometime in the next few years we will acknowledge the fact that the yelling did us very little good. We will still have LGBT people and evangelical people as neighbors. They will still live some parts their lives differently than us and it still will not effect our lives much at all. There will be times where we understand that treating each other with respect and dignity is for the best. It will be agreed that all people are entitled to equal protection under the law. We’ll calmly iron out the details. Those will be good times. Then we will forget again. We always do. Then we will yell. Bless our hearts.
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016
The devil is in the details
Yet God is found in the mistake
And the best laid plans of man pales
To when evolution and conditions awake
Gene G. McLaughlin 2016