I Come To Take Your Hate

This I write

To make true

Decency is not lost

Love is not diminished

Grace is not absent

I come to take your hate

I will turn the hot stone

Into a cool wind

Fire only consumes

Remakes the world

In its own image

Of ash and ember

This I do

So that you may know your own sound

Breathe

Hear your heart

The beating

Of the engine

Hear the blood

How it flows

With quiet force

The sound

Of your fingers

As you gently

Rub their tips

Together

This is the sound of time

Without the weight of years

This I give to you

Gene G. McLaughlin 2016

 

 

Lonely Hearts And Half Empty Shopping Carts

I understand nothing of your grief and pain

There is nothing I judge equal that I call my own

No stand to take or ground to gain

Your sad song wails over the voices of the joyous

Drowning out so much of the quiet pleasant music

That wraps itself around the world unknown to most

So much chatter of what is missing or not possessed

Lonely hearts and half empty shopping carts

Wandering through the Wal-Mart past midnight

Beneath the smiley faces and fluorescent light

There is beauty in the spaces in between

Seen only by actually looking

Never does it preen

Call out for attention

Seeking condolences or complimentary mentions

The moments existing within themselves only

Devoid of all of the trappings of

Of society and camaraderie

The strings and sinews of you and me

In the night I hear the yells and howls

Like bird calls trying to draw meaning

Out of the cool chill of the sky

Nothing comes forth and the dark spirits

Settle in denying this and that and filling

The gaps with questions and doubts

Hope is the worst thing that came out of the box

It is that which breaks us first not sticks and rocks

So much work so little reward given

For all the devotion to the libraries of ideas

That consumes and dooms us

The song sings to you now if you can pause to hear it

Gentle strings and the Zen beat which is always there

It all lies in the elimination of the white noise

So then the white noise can truly be heard

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Within

Sometimes

I think ahead

Or dwell

In the past

Only in the now

Can I hear

The quiet hum

The nameless song

The beloved echo

Within

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

I Got Nothing To Say

Sometimes the words come easy

The thoughts run free

But the rain is falling cold

The sky is mean and dark

There are sad times to the north

And I got nothing to say

Sometimes the glass is shattered

The precious is no more

But the air will grow dry with comfort

The sky will be clear and bright

The healing will be slow

And I’ll have something to say

Gene G. McLaughlin 2012