In pain
Or distress
Or in the end
You don’t remember
The cause of them
At the end of it all
You recall
The who
The what
You love
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
In pain
Or distress
Or in the end
You don’t remember
The cause of them
At the end of it all
You recall
The who
The what
You love
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
The opposite of pain
Is acknowledgement of pain
The path to control
Is the acknowledgement of none
Fate’s not my future
It is what I’ve done
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Mercy an element of kindness
Worth it’s weight in salt
Cruelty a symptom of weakness
A soley human fault
They are equally
Us
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
Money is what we say it is
Paper or power or both
Life’s meaning is what we say it is
Winter’s stagnation or spring’s green growth
God is what we say it is
The center or nature or the all
The season is what we say it is
The heat of summer or cool colors of fall
Love is what we say it is
Passion or desire or hope that binds
Struggle is what we way it is
Something to overcome or accept in our minds
Rebirth is what we say it is
A continuation or the world born anew
The new year is what we say it is
May it ruminate quietly or speak in volumes through you
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
Sometimes I hope for validation
A small token to keep me afloat
Sometimes validation doesn’t come
It then matters less than it did a moment before
Because it has to
There is an urgency to life
So little time in all
There are always the inspirational videos
That tell me to live fully all time
That fill me with guilt
For not being a star in the sky
Shining brightly
I’ll be grateful for the moments
I have strength to live life fully
Avoiding people and things
That tell me that the quiet slow moments
Have no worth
I need no one on a wall poster or internet video
To tell me life is short
I am cognizant and know this fact already
In kindergarten
They do not teach you
How to live in quiet desperate moments
That are plentiful
Where you are alone
Dealing with yourself
Your failures and inactions
You learn how to negotiate
All of it for a while
When you are not distracted
The reality of it all sinks in
Some good and bad
In one package
The fact that we are resilient
Is not clear to us
Until we are
So much of life is waiting rooms
Sitting in the car alone on the highway
The glare of cubicle lights for eight hours
Folding laundry and ironing
Filling the dishwasher
Raking leaves
That is alright
I give you my token of appreciation
For the mundane things
Validation
For the things they don’t make internet videos about
The quiet filler
Of which your life is built
Where you can find truth, balance, and health
As easy as anywhere else
I absolve you of the guilt
That your existence is not elevated all the time
By the spectacular
Carry on
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
Doorbell rings who is it?
It is the postman once again
Postman what do you carry?
I bring you complications
And the dawn of a brand new day
I bring you salutations
From the voices of yesterday
Did you not expect it?
My deliveries are always on time
Could you not deduce that?
I would arrive at mornings chime
Looking at the postman
I can see jest in his eyes
He knows my years are more than a few
And I can see through his guise
You bring me what I did not expect
Maybe means to fill some needs
Or something from a past once wrecked
Maybe new growth from a bag of seeds
Mr. Postman I know enough of fate
To approach all things with doubt
I know there is never a clean slate
Nor a risk less route
But I shall not fear the unknown
That is just the same as being blind
Or disregard paths that are shown
Out of fear that they are not mine
Mr. Postman what speaks to you?
Tell me not I know it is pain
Mr. Postman you are not alone
And in each moment there can be gain
Bring me what you will sir
I am not afraid
Bring me what you will sir
Without calligraphy or masquerade
I know what you deliver:
Spirit always questing
Spirit always true
Spirit never breaking
Spirit always renewed
Spirit blind with sorrow
Spirit bound with pain
Spirit gently borrows
From the hearts small and subtle gains
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
Broken in my own way
But I like it all right
Spackled and duct taped
Rusty and worn
Don’t have a single emotion
That hasn’t been torn
Scarred across the knuckles
Sad in the heart
Most things mostly my fault
At least in part
Just a missing button
On a worn threadbare shirt
Style is no different
With one button gone
All things go out of fashion
Before too long
Pick myself up, dust off my shirt
Head forward in time
Not a one of us hasn’t been hurt
To not keep moving is the only crime
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
Emma Bovary’s Facebook posts in the modern day
Remain ever misconstrued
Her tweets don’t express the love with which they
Are carefully imbued
That which emerges and disrupts
Might not affirm and renew
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013