"Now, Soldiers, March Away" - a poem about Veterans' Day

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

“Now, Soldiers, March Away”

 

Veterans’ Day in a Fading Town

 

 

                            Now, soldiers, march away:

And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!

 

-Henry V, III.iv.131-132

 

 

A shuffle now, rather than a march

Between curving ranks of folding chairs

Positioned by students on the old gym floor

While the high school band played the old hymns of war

 

A real lieutenant-colonel with a smooth-shaven head

Costumed in an old tree-suit that needed a wash

Mumbled into a broken microphone

Accepted his plaque, and ambled away

 

The children were nice, the veterans were old

Fewer children, fewer veterans every year

 

                            Now, soldiers, march away

A Thought for Veterans' Day - short poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

A Thought for Veterans’ Day

 

As I drive to the annual memorial

Where people will thank me for my service

And then chant “USA! USA! USA!

          While clinching their fists of freedom in the air

I hope the ICE don’t arrest me

A Signature Hamburger (iconic, farm-fresh, and flying off the shelves) - short poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

A Signature Hamburger 

(iconic, farm-fresh, and flying off the shelves)

 

What exactly is a signature hamburger?

One imagines the difficulty of the chef

Signing her name on the cheesy chopped beef

With a Sharpie blessed by Martha Stewart

"What Has it Got in its Pocketses?" - very short poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

“What Has it Got in its Pocketses?”

 

-Gollum in The Hobbit

 

A little British Army pocketknife

          (Without which a gentleman is not fully dressed)

A pen

A little notebook

Oh, and a volume of Keats - magic indeed!

What about you?

The Bright Light Free Will Four Square Full Gospel Missionary Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ of the Lamb the Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Billy Bob Hairdo and His Worshipful Lady Apostle Tyffanye a-Brangin’ Messages

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

The Bright Light Free Will Four Square Full Gospel Missionary Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ of the Lamb the Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Billy Bob Hairdo and His Worshipful Lady Apostle Tyffanye a-Brangin’ Messages

 

…interrupted my peaceful Saturday morning

To brang me Messages

 

“The evil one rules this world!” proclaimed the Reverend Doctor Master Bishop

“That’s impossible,” I replied, “I know the Evil One;

I used to date her”

The Reverence Doctor Master Bishop

        side-eyed His Worshipful Lady Apostle

 

Amen

They Came Home Long Enough to Take Mama's Car Keys - poem

 Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

They Came Home Long Enough to Take Mama’s Car Keys

 

In fading Kodachrome, in girlish glee

She poses with her birthday Volkswagen Bug

Rockin’ a shirtwaist dress and saddle shoes

Her spirits as high as her bouffant hairdo

 

From Elvis to the Beatles and beyond

And then a series of suburban Fords

And then the children left home – sometimes they ‘phone

And then her husband died; still, there was a Ford

 

The 1950s are leaving the building

In confusion, in fading Kodachrome

 

Our Lives Whispered in the Wind - short autumn poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

Our Lives Whispered in the Wind

 

It’s not at all original to say

          (we’ve heard it on the wind) 

That wild geese in their far-flung flying vees

Are like autumn leaves, like years, winging away

Away, whispered away on an autumn breeze

When God Made This Guy - very short poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

A Certain Ancestor

 

Yes, sir,

When God made him

God broke the mold

Angrily

Pappy, Put Your Pants On - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

An Appeal to Old Men Who Wear Knee-Shortsies in Public

 

From one old man to another

 

Oh, yeah; the chicks will dig your hairy cankles

Your desperate desire for youth and cool

Your wrinkly stick legs from your thighs to your ankles

 

          Please

 

Pappy, put your pants on you look a right fool

Don't Bring Your Humans When You Visit - more DOGgerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

Don’t Bring Your Humans When You Visit

 

Really. Don’t bring your humans when you visit

Yes, I love humans, and I know that your humans are special

But when they burble “pupsies,” “cutest-wutest,” and “most-preciousist”

I want to rip their lungs out and devour them

 

          (says a chihuahua)

 

A dog would never say “kissie-wissie num-num”

And not be driven forever from the pack

And as for babbling “wouldn’t hurt a fly”

Just how incredibly stupid is that!

 

And a dog would never, ever **** on the floor

Except when thoughtless humans don’t open the door

Dogs don’t lock humans in cages to die

Of starvation and loneliness and thirst

 

And dogs don’t drag their humans into other humans’ dens

Without any preparation, and turn them loose

Uninvited, unwanted, frightened and confused

To make a chaos of other humans’ daily routines

 

When humans force dogs into an unfamiliar cave

It’s not the dogs who should learn to behave!

 

She's a Dear Old Thing - poem, Southern Gothic

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

She’s a Dear Old Thing

 

She’s a dear old thing

 

A widow-woman, aged, gentle, and frail

She bats her china-doll blue eyes in helplessness

And others, in pity, see to her needs

Her subtle whispers slice a marriage apart

 

She’s a dear old thing

 

The sympathetic mechanic tends her car for nothing

The minister’s family has her over for dinner

The neighbor mows her lawn at least once a week

Her subtle whispers get a young man fired

 

She’s a dear old thing

 

The local physician is easy on her bill

The highway patrol lets her off with a caution

Friends drive her to her Sunday school class

Her subtle whispers send a young woman to suicide

 

She’s a dear old thing

 

Beware, beware the subtle serpent’s sting

The taut rope’s swing, the pale night-walker’s cling

 

And her, because

 

                               She’s a dear old thing

Don't Bring Your Dogs When You Visit - DOGgerel?

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home – Hello Poetry

 

Don’t Bring Your Dogs When You Visit

 

V: Really. Don’t bring your dogs when you visit

Yes, I love dogs, and I know that your dogs are special -

R: My pupsies are the cutest-wutest-most-preciousist

Doggies in the whole while world give mummy

 

A kissie-wissie num-num – oh, did Sissy growl at you?

She never growls at anyone she wouldn’t hurt a fly

You must have done something to provoke her

Could the dogs play in your back yard; they love cats

 

I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t call beforehand

We just happened to be in the neighborhood and the dogs

Needed a break after their long trip and oh!

Prissie left you a present; isn’t she just the sweetest!

 

Oh, sorry about that broken vase; you know

We keep our house doggie-proof; your furniture

Just isn’t steady I could find you a new vase

At the dollar store – your grandmother’s? Really?

 

I wouldn’t worry about the cats; they’ll come back

I think they enjoy being chased; it’s a game to them

Sissie’s sneezing; I think it’s your musty house

Dogs have delicate noses, you know

 

Oh, how cute – Prissie has just caught a cat!

Don’t you like dogs? I just don’t understand that