Four Horsemen

Synchronized in your ceremony

Bloodless in your coup

Total in your autonomy

Omniscient in your view

Fear of your hegemony

We all bow to you

Creation of disaffection

Idealess domain

Follow in tight formation

Maximize avoidance of pain

Medicate all emotions

So you can’t even fear

No extraneous commotions

Conceal all you hold dear

Jagged in your eloquence

Mindless in your goals

Joy is only coincidence

As cold machinations unfold

End are you near?

Are you on your way?

Four horsemen are you saddling

To ride at break of day

Gene G. McLaughlin 2004

I Stepped On A Rusty Nail

I was fevered

Leg was swollen up to my knee

Black spots on my toes

I took drugs

I healed

I got more days

Lost no toes

I am grateful

The sun looks brighter

People seem more delicate

Their stories seem more important

I was sitting waiting to see the doctor

My fever raged

A mother ran in

Said my child is going into surgery

Said I need to see him

Because it might be the last time

I cried for her

I cried for me

I cried for the size of it all

Then I understood

What I didn’t before

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Orange County, NY 1981

Train rolls by every night

Right round 4 o’clock

River runs by every night

Water is swift and dark

Deer wander past the house

Corn fields are their goal

Dog sleeps silent behind the house

Guardian protector is his role

Clothes pins sway on the line

Wind whistles through the chimes

Train heads further down line

Trying to make up time

Grey cat prowls fields for mice

Mice almost die of fright

Grey cat finds a nest of mice

No option for fight just flight

Old man coughing on the porch

His longs filled with smoke of years

Zippo flames up like a torch

Its been to late to quit for years

Dawn is slowing creeping in

Cars sounds start up on the road

Old man thinks what a damn shame

Children sleeping sound and tight

Missing morning is always a sin

Gene G. McLaughlin 2003

A Toast For A Non-Believer

To those who believe

a sunset or rose

a song or smile

is not a gift

To those who believe

a scar or sadness

a lesion or slight

is not a curse

Yet still believe

It is enough

This is to you

Gene G. McLaughlin 2007

The Black Heart Does Not Need Expedient Means

If you seek violence

The gun will seek you

If you seek strife

The knife will seek you

Things sought after

Are found

When I am wrong

I am wrong in spades

Mistrust and malevolence

Cascade

Like bullets

But my wrongness

Is slow and worded

Defeated by reason

And forceful thought

And I recover

With an absence of blood

The black heart

Does not need expedient means

It needs time and reason

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

No One May Read The Words

No one may read the words

The audience may be silent

Or may not exist

Write it still

Howl at the moon

In the dead of the night

Quiet in the forest

The wolf does not care

It is not heard

By all

The howl is for its pack

To acknowledge the lit night

And the glory of being cold

Hungry and alive

The hunt is for the sake

Of the hunt itself

The words are for the sake

Of the words themselves

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

I Will Shatter Shackles

I will shatter shackles

Even as I strengthen bonds

We are not one thing only

We are our limits

We are our boundaries

We are that which is not on display

And cannot not be mouthed into words

You will fail

You have failed

You shall be carried

You shall buoy those around you

By your considerable weight

Burden is not weakness

Articulation is not communication

That which we do not understand

Still exists in full

That which we cannot overcome

Is not the last of us

Or the end

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

All At Once

All the horrible things you imagine

Happen all the time

All the wonderful things you imagine

Happen everyday

Nothing shocking

Nothing enthralling

All of it

All the time

This is the world

The white noise of extremes

Nothing noticed

Nothing noted

Is it sickening

Yes it is

It it astounding

Yes it is

It is moving

All the time

It is growing

All the time

It is shrinking

All the time

Know its name

Or do not

It lost sight of you

So long ago

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Today I Don’t Have The Devotion

Today I don’t have the devotion

Today I don’t feel strong

Just a living thing in motion

Just a creature trying to get along

Maybe tomorrow will be different

Maybe tomorrow will feel true

Sometimes I reach out to touch the sunlight

And put my hand to my face to know its there

Sometimes the warmth feels all right

When a hot shower hits my body naked and bare

Today I don’t have the devotion

Today I’m slow to move and think

Just a living thing in motion

Waiting until quitting time for a drink

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Summer Heat Decay 1985

Across the highway

I see the rendering plant

Smoking all night

Smell strong of death

Soap to be

Stand up slowly

Plants stink is stronger

In the hot depth of summer

Walk slowly down the road

Next to the lazy warm river

Shad run strong float

Dead and bloated in the water

Payment heats my feet

I walk in the spill off stream

On the side of the hot road

Sneakers wet feet soothed

At hill bottom stream runs strong

Water cold and white

Rolling over the dark unseen rocks

Tall chain link fence

Surrounds stinking sickening plant

Walking in the woods around it

I see a couple in a side meadow

Lateral pants at their knees

Finding some meaning creating

Condensation summer heat

Woods are dark penetrated

By rays of sunlight

Rear entrance of the plant approaches

Behind the truck is my goal

Dump of boxes junks refuse

So ugly decayed I feel more alive

On the mounds of garbage move

Sifting smooth shadows

Scavenging searching securing

My cat sits among them

Champion king victor stud

Amongst all others

He is not amongst my world

Any longer, He has passed over

To the dump primordial beyond

Conventions of dishes collars flea less

Existence, surveying his surroundings

His cock hard teeth bloody with pretenders

Flesh taste of their defeat strong in his mouth

His defeat will come soon, momentarily relatively

On the fumes exhaust waste from the plant

Cancers of progress touches us all

Summer day sweat of heat plant oozes fate

Gene G. McLaughlin 2004