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
|
Absorption
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
|
BLACK HOLE
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
|
exposure
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
|