That Crusoe Must Have Thunk

I have the kind of

Knowledge you get

From spending too much time alone

Books are my solace

When I am lonely to the bone

I am a dreamer

I am a drunk

I am thinking all the thoughts

That Crusoe must have thunk

I have the kind of old soul

That runs away from pain

I know all about the price of love

And its small and subtle gains

I am a dreamer

I am a drunk

I am thinking all the thoughts

That Crusoe must have thunk

I might have misgivings

Along the way

But the train’s already moving

And the fare has been paid

Some come on now

All you words and songs

Give me that substitute

For which my soul longs

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

The Humming Center

Life is want and hunger

Seeking shelter from the rain

The rage to tear asunder

That which causes pain

In the humming center

Is the still humble fact

The life we enter

Is harder when we react

Our decisions

Unquiet the soul

Self derision

Takes it’s toll

You cannot win

That which is not contested

Freedom begins

When you are divested

The sound

Of the water

The taste of the wind

The embrace of your beloved

Tomorrow begins

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Hoover Moover

Interpreter of Apocrypha

Speaker of sweet lies

Hidden meaning menagerie

Read between the lines

 

Sell vacuums as truth door to door

Cleaning misconceptions cause confusions

Let me show you how it cleans the floor

Harsh vibrations may cause contusions

 

Deny the chaos of dirt and grime

It cleans fast, saves you time!

Hidden meaning in the dust?

Speedy cleaning blood lust!

 

I will come to you as a sheep

But all of me is wolf to core

You dream of cleaning as you sleep

Restful rest no more

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Blue Light Romance

‘Know this’ she said

‘I shall be with you’

Or so I recall

As the blue light

Special blinks

Reaching the case

I quickly put the item

In my pocket

A secret treat only

K-Mart can provide

Walking slowly toward

The front doors

All are watching

Knowing of my sin

Feeling their judgment

And eyes upon me

Perhaps none are watching

None judging

My criminal act of

Rebellion and romance

Going unrecognized

I cross through the doors

No alarms ring and nothing

Notes my passing into

The dingy grey parking lot

I stroll across the lot

Feeling triumphant in

My small success and

Heading across the railroad

Tracks and past the half

Burnt out sign of the

Burger King buzzing like

A sad dying bug

Drunk sitting on the bench

At the train stop knows nothing

Of what has transpired

And I pass him quickly

This is one of my finest moments

I think of what it will change

Walking through the neighborhood

I feel different and walk with

More purpose and style.

Coming to her house I see her on

The porch sitting there and waiting

And I walk up and hand her

The bounty which she has desired

She takes it and looks at it and smiles

And says, ‘It is the wrong one’

Mortification my old companion

Returns quietly and crawls up my spine

Can I do it again I wonder?

And looking at her I know the answer

Gene G. McLaughlin 2005

This Is Not My Pop Song

This is not my pop song

Playing on the radio

My pop song is still playing

On the air waves of long ago

 

I can’t hear the melody

And the harmony sounds bad

Well I think whoever bought this single

Well I think that they’ve been had

 

Well how the hell they dancing and singing

Without losing all their damn breath

I bet they’re damn lip synching

How else they avoiding cardiac death

 

I try to switch the radio dial

But all the stations are the same

I will just sit here quiet a while

And think who I should blame

 

This is not my pop song

Maybe it belongs to you

The song structure is all wrong

The rhythm sounds bad too

 

Maybe I have just lost touch

And start to get a bit old

But this song sucks way too much

If the truth really be told

 

Well instead of sitting here feeling sad

Looking for some new tunes to hum

I am going to just be really glad

I got a box of old LP’s if I need some

Gene G. McLaughlin 2003

Somnambulism

In the blue dark moments of the dream

Happiest with sense of self

Drifting and sifting through the images

By experience informed

To the limits conformed

Knowingly it comes to me

Fleetingly clear to see

Schism of empiricism

Truth beyond my simple science

So foolish to have asked for proof

Leaving my soul detached aloof

Mystery need not be questioned or embraced

Only know to exist across void of space

In the yellow light moments of the end

Joy fades replaced with

Weight all of it reposed

With hope in reality imposed

Gene G. McLaughlin 2004

The Tech Will Not Be Denied

The tech will not be denied

It keeps its own pace and company

You can hear it in the past

The sound von Neumann heard

In the back of his mind

The hum Turing felt

At the base of his spine

The spark the chimp saw

Pounding walnuts between stones

The ones and twos of it

The spiderwebs of it

We stride next to it

Because we are of it

We tell stories

To mask the data

Narratives to help

Ease through our days

Those who face the light of it

Move us forward

To something different

That is still yet us

The tech will not be denied

It moves without consent because it is us

We are its company and its raison d’etre

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

The Quiet Life

I am greedy for the quiet life

For the longing to forever end

Accumulation and achievement leading to

An empty series of dusty rooms

I have already visited

Finding them wanting

Let’s waltz my love

On the porch

While the sun goes down

As the azaleas bloom

And spring comes again

The most important things earned

Are learned by the failures of success

And the victory of the speckled dusty air

Dancing at twilight

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Need/Want

I need a hat

For the sun in my eyes

I need a woman

With shapely smooth thighs

I need a job

With a paying high wage

I need a day

Of a world without rage

I need a suit

Of fine Italian silk

I need to find

Some friends of my ilk

I need a sun

Of bright warm orange light

I need to find

The will to carry on and fight

I need a morning

With no direction

I need a taste

Of a fine chocolate confection

I need a tomorrow

Different than today

I need a map

With a clearly marked way

I need a song

Of sweetest melody

I need for you to long

For something in me

I need a salad

With clean fresh greens

I need the ways

To equal the means

I need a world

Without boundaries or borders

I want these things

In no particular orders

Gene G. McLaughlin 2004

Spring 2005

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

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 stopped

Yet it comes again

The rain

The sun

The bud

The pollen

The flower

The leaf

The fruit

The seed

Unbroken

Just in time

Gene G. McLaughlin 2005