Maybe all songs have been written
Maybe all stories have been told
At least I got enough books&music
To keep me from boredom as I grow old
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Tag: Poem
The Sound of the Engine
It all gets ahead of you
It all gets away from you
All of it happens so fast
It’s not like the eternity
Once pondered and pictured
When you were as high
As your old man’s knee
It’s more of an avalanche
More of a storm
More like a dog’s leash
Taut with a Doberman
Raging and barking
Hurtling forward
Chasing a rabbit
That you cannot see
Momentum pushes you forward
Despite your best efforts
You can set your mind still
Through the passing of moments
Yet you still feel the engines
Churning below you
Which can’t stop for anything
That pay head to nothing
No matter your wishes
Despite this soliloquy
I’ve slowed naught and nothing
The train slows for no one
No stops ‘til the end of the line
So I’ll fill up my world
With the tools to learn
That the sound of the engine
Can be kind of calming
Maybe even relaxing
Even if it knows nothing for me
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
I Will Sing Your Song
I will sing your song
In moments of your silence
I will hear the tune
When sound fades from the air
I will be buoyant
When floods will not abate
I will be the enemy
The object of any hate
You have lost enough
And I care little if I win
Do not be bereft
All we can be judged upon
Are our arbitrary sins
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Bathroom Mirror
The measuring of ones self in the bathroom mirror
In the early pale gray morning
Does not become easier over time
The weight of actions and estimations
Grow ever greater
Like roots of trees intertwined
Becoming ever closer together
Facing the toothbrush and razor
The white stubble of the beard upon the chin
The plaque upon the once near white teeth
There is knowledge that this is yet another day
Full possibilities
Maybe redemption
Maybe failure
In the tasks that lead to that which one desires
To become
To represent
One day at a time says the addicts sponsor
Yet in truth it remains the same for all whom
Walk a path in conscious direction
Toward some specified or worthy goal
To thine own self be true
Said the aged character in the play
And in the bathroom mirror
This estimation
This evaluation
Is true
We are days and decades and sons and fathers in that mirror
Women we have loved and hurt and men we have killed or maimed
We are not our own gods nor can we ever be
Yet in the early pale gray morning with water running
The steam upon the mirror
We can look up and see through their divine eyes
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Approach
Tell me a story
Of the things you want
Tell me your tales
Of the places you haunt
Show me your heart
What your see in the mirror
What tears you apart?
What god says when you hear her?
It is all just instances
Guiding us toward the now
All just hearts and souls learning
The intimacies of why and how
Tell me how I can reach you
And the secrets you know
Tell me how to approach
Where to hasten and slow
Tell me what a kiss means
And when I’d be brazen to touch
Tell what songs you sing alone
What memories are just too much
Do not hold back the burdens
Those that are too much to bear
Do no hide what you value
Or mask that for which you care
Be cautious and careful
For I would be to
But for those things I ask
Answers maybe be slow
Yet please make them true
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Breaking Bread Upon My Table
Breaking bread upon my table
We face and judge our hunger
Faith not in the believing
But in the subtle conceiving
Picture a summer watermelon
Sweet pink fruit it shall be
Pouring water at my table
We face and judge our thirst
Tell me what dreams you dream
Comparisons will be made
Faith not in the compensation
But in the stable construction
Picture a tower of steel
Shining beacon it shall be
World starts in broken pieces
Just as chaos swirled before
Piecing together of faith
So slow, progressing
Occasional progress through
Personalities and paradox
What texture does the world take?
Without the faithful?
Around me days are filled with
Purpose and light, without question
Their hearts full
What pulls them out from beneath?
If it is gone?
If the oblivious dwindle
Do the informed continue?
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Delaware
Like a woman
Sometimes fickle
Always changing
Both delicate and strong
Giving life through the decades
Warm in summer
Bugs fish wood green and lush
Cold in winter
Ice snow wind and shimmering shine
Always alive
Always reborn
My heart will always long for you
Seeking to be reborn
In places of no comfort
Dry foam sterile and plastic
Thinking back to the sand silt and dirt
Muck and wet rotting leaves and horseflies
Smell of shad on your shores
Desperate to spawn
And their stink
Filling the air, life and death inhaled
In one breathe
Sight of eels in the water looking like
Slippery sliding sly snakes of the depths
You have had names before that which
We call you
You shall have more names still
The name we hold in our hearts for you
Will always be the same
No words are needed for it
For just as we need not articulate that
Which our hearts know our mothers to be
Always what you are
Life giver life taker
Warmest and most welcoming
Coldest and most foreboding
Never ever changing
Yet current always raging
Mother River
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
I Heard A Rumor of Warm Wind
I heard a rumor of warm wind
I heard of a tale of green growth
I heard a story of cold’s end
I doubt the veracity of both
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
Thanksgiving 2014
I give thanks for this moment of living
The future has forgotten me now
I give thanks the present moment of giving
The past has shown me how
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
As the Pain Shapes My Path
I’m not done with my damage yet
I’ve got a few more rounds to take
As the pain shapes my path
I’ve got a faith I can’t shake
I’m gonna miss one bit of pain
Before I sleep and then wake
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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