Bone-Hill.com

I will no longer be updating this blog, but you can fine me at bone-hill.com on Wordpress.

The Digital World Skinner Box

The digital world Skinner box

Tightly closely in

In moments of clarity we take stock

Of where we are, but have not been

The time Twitters away

Which causes true dialogues decay

There is little left to say

That doesn’t sound like cliché

Step up away from the digital

Step into the physical aspect of today

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

What Is Regretted

What is regretted

Should be grasped

And forgotten

Good life is abetted

By short memory

Of mistakes begotten

Rumination

Leads to

Rotten

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Family Polaroid Pictures

Family Polaroid pictures

From the late 1970’s

Always seem to be imbued

With a sadness

Of all the plans

That didn't come true

In the years before

But seemed possible

For a time

Dreams are never lost completely

Just frozen in chemicals

In a small white framed square

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Ruins

Each human

Is a decaying civilization

Forgetting things they once knew

Knowledge displaced, replaced

Or misplaced

Lessons once held tight

Considered learned

Now faded

Absorbed into the organic ruins

The civilizations

Grandest city

In crumbles

Moss covered

Flickering in the air

Much like dust

There is a once great plaza

That is now only visited

By pigeons and those who haven’t

Forgotten

The once shining marble

Fountains of fresh water

And vibrant bustle

With little to hold back

The ravages of

Time

Inertia

Hubris

And whatever else

It is best to enjoy the sun

Birds singing

Smells of the season

Cherishing the brightest memories

Past summers have provided

Greed never

Served your cities well

It is endless

And in the end

Does not complete the circle

Mindfulness and presence

Were always your cultures

Finest elements

Those that could persevere

Until something is built

On the newly discovered ruins

Gene McLaughlin 2014

June Summer Night Sounds

Singing birds &

A musical ice cream truck

Sound like they’re conversing

On a warm summer night

Discussing the events of the day

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Those Corporeal Blooded Beasts

This is for those corporeal blooded beasts
Carrying their consciousness
Like a badge
A scar
A curse
A revelation
Blinded
Sensorially

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Don’t Wear Your Damage As Blame

Don’t wear your damage
As blame
But as a life lived
Too close to the sun
Exhibit your pain like art
Let no two joys be the same

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

The Sum

Things I was right about

Few

Things I wrong about about

Some

How much in the end does it matter?

To that question I am numb

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Everyone Thinks

Everyone thinks

The other side stinks

That they feel entitled

To that not earned

Like Nero

We fiddle

Don't move to the middle

Whilst we burn

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Deny Their Limits

Deny their limits

They are frameworks of

A flawed failed past

The gospel of joy

Is holistic

Including things once judged broken

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

State of the Internet 2014

Selfies flowing constantly

Into the internet stream

People reacting violently

To opinions they have seen

Upworthy nudging inspiringly

With carefully crafted memes

Cat pics generate spontaneously

That fill all the space in between

Set your phone down quietly

Before you want to scream

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Be Human

Smile

Lose ground

Until

The end

Feel joy

It goes around

Without us

My friend

Be human

Do not fear

Feel love

Do not pretend

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

The Kindness Engine

Kindness is the creation of clarity


Life is never empty of pain


Value empathy not insularity


The path to balance writ plain


Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

She Who Is The Speaker Of Her Dreams

Dreams can die together

They are viral

Every intertwined

Dreams can grow forever

They are vital

Slow to unwind

She who is the speaker of her dreams

Should not be scorned

Embolden this world do not lessen

You have been warned

The dreams which you dismiss

The dreams which the crowd denies

Is that which in perpetuity is lost

And all that loss implies

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Closer To Dead Is Closer To Free

Closer to dead

Is closer to free

Truth no longer

Hides from me

In the corner of my eye

There I see

Shadows approaching slowly

I do not flee

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Charred Organic Postcards

Books disregard

Limits of time

Space and Censorship

They are

The final charred

Organic postcards

Until the fiery

Complete end

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

The Hill

I haven’t a clue what went down at Calvary

Centuries ago

You can put the things in a giant endless box

That I don’t know

I do know much of narratives

The stories we tell ourselves

There are true things in stories

That we create for ourselves

If you tell me Romans might have feared

What they didn’t understand

If you tell me Judas might have betrayed

Someone he loved and respected as man

If you tell me that 3 men were crucified

On crosses plunged deep into the land

If you tell me those that had love for them cried

As the the blood dripped from their nail struck hands

I’d believe you for the most part

I know these stories to be mostly true

I’d believe you at least in part

Because from experience these thing are true to you

People have ever been sacrificed

People have ever been betrayed

Maybe one was named Jesus Christ

Maybe he died today

No narrative sustains

That isn’t one that compels

No stories remain over centuries

That aren’t written in our cells

I’m somber not from a leap of faith

That is not my road

I’m somber for the parts I know are true

Those lying deep within our code

Sacrifice, love, and loss

Things which are often represented

By a lonely hill once bearing a cross

Which many hold when their sins are repented

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Hatred Is Created By Self Narrative

Hatred is created by self narrative

Narrative is human to the core

To find the way to peace

Create stories in your mind no more

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Ecosystem

There are dragonflies

In my earliest memories

There are no clever thoughts

No grand ambitions

Only their loud hum

In the heat of summer

The taste of sweat

Upon my tongue

The feel of damp

On my neck

The river is near

Giving and taking

Sleeping then waking

Frothy then serene

The mountain is near

Giving not taking

Bending and breaking

Its peak still unseen

There is my mother

Provider of food and love

There is my father

Before me and not above

We are of here

This valley

This land

We are from here

Our family

Our band

All I know

Is nearby

Or at least as

The bird flies

The river knew my name

When I was baptized in it

The mountain knew my name

When I walked upon it

I became of here

In my crib

As the wind blew

Through it

I cannot forget

The hum

Of horseflies

Nor the pain

Of their bite

Nor the pull

Of the river's current

It's inhuman might

It all escalates outward

It all internalizes inward

The river takes me elsewhere

The mountain fades from view

When I am motionless

I can hear the dragonflies

Humming there still

When I am motionless

The river carries me there

Once again

The mountain's peak

Still out of view

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014