Oh chicken wings
Such tasty glory!
But for the chicken
It can be sort of gory
In truth I don’t know
But if I guessed
Having one’s arm removed
Might make a mess!
Now what makes the McRib
The very best
Is the artful way
It is compressed
Because if the pig
Had any pain
It is hard for me
To ascertain
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
My voice is weak tonight
Burned by the sad black flame
I see attribution
Words I seek to blame
Its simply dissembling
The fire knows my name
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Let’s talk about thunder
The sound that it makes
Earth’s palpable fear
When the storm wakes
All living things pause
As the sky quakes
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Categorized
Indexing
Stored then supplied
Information
On which we relied
Yet the unknown
Still survived
And blind risks
Multiplied
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
The digital world Skinner box
Tightly closely in
In moments of clarity we take stock
Of where we are, but have not been
The time Twitters away
Which causes true dialogues decay
There is little left to say
That doesn’t sound like cliché
Step up away from the digital
Step into the physical aspect of today
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
What is regretted
Should be grasped
And forgotten
Good life is abetted
By short memory
Of mistakes begotten
Rumination
Leads to
Rotten
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Family Polaroid pictures
From the late 1970’s
Always seem to be imbued
With a sadness
Of all the plans
That didn’t come true
In the years before
But seemed possible
For a time
Dreams are never lost completely
Just frozen in chemicals
In a small white framed square
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Each human
Is a decaying civilization
Forgetting things they once knew
Knowledge displaced, replaced
Or misplaced
Lessons once held tight
Considered learned
Now faded
Absorbed into the organic ruins
The civilizations
Grandest city
In crumbles
Moss covered
Flickering in the air
Much like dust
There is a once great plaza
That is now only visited
By pigeons and those who haven’t
Forgotten
The once shining marble
Fountains of fresh water
And vibrant bustle
With little to hold back
The ravages of
Time
Inertia
Hubris
And whatever else
It is best to enjoy the sun
Birds singing
Smells of the season
Cherishing the brightest memories
Past summers have provided
Greed never
Served your cities well
It is endless
And in the end
Does not complete the circle
Mindfulness and presence
Were always your cultures
Finest elements
Those that could persevere
Until something is built
On the newly discovered ruins
Gene McLaughlin 2014
This is for those corporeal blooded beasts
Carrying their consciousness
Like a badge
A scar
A curse
A revelation
Blinded
Sensorially
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
Don’t wear your damage
As blame
But as a life lived
Too close to the sun
Exhibit your pain like art
Let no two joys be the same
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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