The Art of the Spider

The art of the spider is patience
Its poison is held in reserve
For when the web breaks unbidden
Or if the prey works up the nerve
To resist that which nature intended
To swerve from the course of its fate
The spider’s unseen strength
Is the will to sit and silently wait

Gene G. McLaughlin 2021

Homeless Words

Sometimes

Words together

Sound good

To the ear

Devoid of meaning

And homeless

In a notebook

They hum

Waiting for your pen

To guide them home

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Stores We Tell

A damsel in distress

A knight striving his best

A nautical tale

A huge white whale

Imagined realities

Fight life’s banalities

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

Words Like Thunder

Words resonated more

Before they were written down

Crashing like thunder

Confined to only sound

Now they are echoes

Lost and found

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

That Crusoe Must Have Thunk

I have the kind of

Knowledge you get

From spending too much time alone

Books are my solace

When I am lonely to the bone

I am a dreamer

I am a drunk

I am thinking all the thoughts

That Crusoe must have thunk

I have the kind of old soul

That runs away from pain

I know all about the price of love

And its small and subtle gains

I am a dreamer

I am a drunk

I am thinking all the thoughts

That Crusoe must have thunk

I might have misgivings

Along the way

But the train’s already moving

And the fare has been paid

Some come on now

All you words and songs

Give me that substitute

For which my soul longs

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