Fat Tuesday/Ash Wednesday

I.

We all got scars

On soul or skin

In churches or bars

We all got sin

In the public eye

Or held within

Raise a glass

Sing a song

Go to mass

Hit the bong

This too shall pass

Before too long

You want redemption?

Not tonight friend

Tonight’s for wine

And vague memories

We all got wars

We all have lost

We all got scores

Of things they cost

Live today

Pray tomorrow

Find a way

To ease the sorrow

Sin not committed

Cannot be repented

The cycle repeated

As He intended

II.

Remember that you are dust

To dust you shall return

Are we more than want and lust?

An engine designed to yearn

Repent, and believe in the Gospel

Even for the apostate and the apostle?

I repent to those I have done harm

Not to those who I do not know

I carry love for those now gone

As I await my time to go

Our 40 days come with no warning

They just arrive

Our 40 days feel much like mourning

You might survive

If it is too heavy to carry

Take it from the pack

If the weight of it overwhelms

Give it back

The intrinsic should not be surrendered

The extrinsic is not judgement rendered

The ashes on your forehead

Are forever made of you

Do not try to wash them away

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