Tag: Poetry

Musical Memories Recalled

Bob Dylan barely aware

Looking at the crowd

As if he didn’t recall why they were there

Beck as a young man

Becoming something new

Before our eyes

John Lee Hooker singing tales

I was too young to understand

But am starting to now

Lou Reed looking older

Yet still defiant

Equal parts rage and love on stage

P Funk swirling like chaos

Floating on the boards

In a smokey dark haze

Elliot Smith standing like a shadow

Singing with beauty and fear

Shortly before the end

Public Enemy fist raised

Marching and calling out orders

Daring us to move

In my mind

I hear the music still

Feeling the sound

And the pulse

Of the crowd

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

The Heart Will Beat Till It Don’t

The sun will burn till it doesn’t

The heart will beat till it don’t

Worry is a thing I wouldn’t

Do because I won’t

Manage the details and aspects

Of that I cannot control

So I’ll let the world sort through it’s cycles

And easy the burden and toll

Of the weight that sometimes builds up

At the base of my neck and my spine

Listening to wind, rain, and earth’s hum

My thoughts once again mine

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

The Light Shines Down Upon The World

The light shines down upon the world

And I know it to be something

Fully explained by science

Yet this morning

It feels like love

The lighting scorches the ground

And I know it be something

With reasons for being

Yet this evening

It feels like scorn

My soul clings to my flesh

And I know not what it is and

I ponder disregarding it

For lack of evidence of its tangibility

Yet this day

It feels like all I have and

If I am mistaken

I feel not guilty nor the fool

For detecting the charade

Is far beyond my means

Gene G. McLaughlin 2005

You Can Believe

You can believe in rage and conflict

Those are the ways of old

You can believe that confrontations

Make a man brave and bold

You can believe in the language of violence

That ever has existed

You can measure your life by how many conquests

Of which you life has consisted

You can believe in the primal easy path

That has always been the clearest way

Or you can believe you choose for yourself

The road you take today

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

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