Prose and Poetry Page
the works on this page are excerpts from the anthology "Eleven Twenty-Five"

Destiny's Child

The once welcoming water around me
has clouded into
seventy shades of gray
its cleansing surge
failing to free me from
sullied suggestions
embedded within

I forge ahead
in search of
pearly incadescence
and the shimmering safety
lying only a step beyond

but as I enter
the baptismal bath
the boundary becomes distorted
and I am again surrounded
by a murky moat
which I was never meant to cross

Prebble Q McLaughlin
September 21, 1999


inhaling aromas
a lusty drink
blessed by the fairy's
obliging wand
clouds of dangerous engorgement
splitting at the seams
unleashing beauty
so full and plenty
terrifyingly intense
my bones crack
under the weight
patient exasperation
contradiction by definition
avoiding the obvious
flickering flame
scorching my lashes
disrupted by a breeze
and laid to rest

Prebble Q McLaughlin
November 2, 1999

The Pawn

The mindless chatter
is a hypnotic hum
like a swarm of bees
protecting the hive
I escape this world of wasted words
as I fade into the crowd and become the observer
It's a carefully orchestrated
game of the mind
in which we are engaged
as I watch words playfully dance
from soft parted lips
and eyes radiating heat
like a coal fed fire
It can be seen in a lingering gaze
after eyes have met
or in the furtive glare
dispensed to an unwanted guest
The faces may blur, the venue may change
but after a time it all looks alike
with everyone huddled over the same game board
cunningly planning their next right move
But alone in a corner
sits a kindred soul
enshrouded in silence
like a mystery to solve
She smiles quite broadly
and nods in recognition
So intriguing and painfully riveting she is
and I desperately attempt to avoid her
penetrating stare
But she is a drink from the coolest fountain
and I thirst for her knowledge
around me the sound of voices has faded
and I find I am focused only on one
it is time for me to now make my move
and in harmony I shall join my waiting queen
Together we will laugh in sheer derision
as we watch all the pawns still being played
I shake my head in utter disgust
as I pity these unwiitting participants
in an expertly manipulated
game of mental chess.

Prebble Q McLaughlin
October 12, 1999

The Hat

He thinks I don't know
as he beckons me slowly,
His crooked old finger
in an accusatory wag

The hat on his head,
all tattered and torn,
a fading ghost
in a time of gray

I hear him calling
but pretend not to notice
And I avoid the stare
from vacant, haunting eyes

I feel his presence
like a weight on my back
As his eyes bore holes
deep into my soul
and I flush from the heat

I turn away
as my fear writhes inside,
A gnawing reminder
of the momentary lapse

There will be
another day, another face,
But I'll never forget
that tattered old hat

More vivid in memory
Than in the sum of its days

Prebble Q McLaughlin
November 1995

The City

It grips you
with an all too powerful force

molding you, sculpting you

into its own creature of the night

Blindly you wander into its depths
and forever you are within its clutches
never to be freed

from its incessant call

It beckons and urges you
from places near and far

No matter where you go

or where you might hide

And drawn by this unrelenting force
you must return
time and time again
to drink from the life-giving waters
of the city

Prebble Q McLaughlin
March 1994

The Path to the Place

  Your soul is searching
for its final resting place
in a place unknown
with someone else's face

No worries or doubts
to shade your sight
an empty highway
that leads into night

Nothing to fear
nothing to lose
the path alone
is yours to choose

Please come and enter
the dark, the cold
you are the one
to be so bold

For the leadened sky
in all its glory
is the ultimate place
to begin your story

Prebble Q McLaughlin
November 9, 1995


My loneliness is like a loss of air

suffocating and inescapable

impentrable armor

harming more than it helps

How do I break free

from the tightening grasp

as I am pulled

toward a world

becoming much too appealing

An aching void

enveloped in irony

For it is the center of my pain

yet the comforting embrace

I unconsciously seek


Prebble Q McLaughlin
April 17, 1997

  Little Black Balloon

Over the field

so fluid and free

hangs a perfect little black balloon

bobbing in the perfect tender breeze

like a cocky little marionette

whose gently tugged strings

perform a merry little dance

for my pleasure and entertainment

its black ribbon tail

swishing and swirling

like a perfectly coiled ringlet

in a tussled blonde mane

just above my reach

if only I could grasp it

and float away


Prebble Q McLaughlin
November 4, 1999



My profitable conscious

too honest to lose again

for time matters

and is mindful

of exposed ruin

within my heart

my true needs


Prebble Q McLaughlin
November 21, 1999

Only The Strong Survive

The murky waters of hell
are boiling with savage fury,
Angered by your resistance and
your inability to be absorbed

He ceaselessly feeds you with outstretched arms,
An eternal attempt to breed more of his kind;
Cunningly, carefully
He makes his love,
Stifling your need and desire for others

You will begin to hunger and to lust
without any knowledge of why,
For he is patient and will proceed cautiously,
Sustained by the smug satisfaction that
He will triumph
In a world where
Only the strong will survive.

Prebble Q McLaughlin
June 1994

For information on Eleven Twenty-Five, my premiere anthology,
contact the author at the below address:

© Copyright 2001 Prebble Q McLaughlin.
All Rights Reserved.
Inquiries and Requests should be directed to
Prebble Q McLaughlin.

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