Tuesday, March 17, 2026

Oscars 2026 - Specimens in a Glass Cage

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

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

Home - Hello Poetry

 

Oscars 2026 – Specimens in a Glass Cage

 

After watching for a few minutes of given time

Their clumsy humor and predictable set-pieces

Subsuming souls into their toxic clime

 

One realizes

 

That these unhappy creatures are not our species

"Just for Fun" - 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

 

“Just for Fun”

 

Now someday when those demented old men

Are guided each to his courtroom seat

To account again for terror and sin

And face the judgements the magistrates may mete

 

Smoke, vultures, and lies will still stain the skies  

Over rotting blood shed from the shallow-buried dead

While unseeing eyes echo stricken Rachel’s cries

(“An excursion,” and “just for fun,” one of them pled)

 

But we will share the shame in that docket too

When the Almighty asks of each of us

                                        “What did YOU do?”

Napoleon Surveys His Split-Screen Image of Moscow and Teheran - 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

 

Napoleon Surveys His Split-Screen Image of Moscow and Teheran

 

I.

 

Operation Roar of the lion Epic Fury

Little Excursion Art of the Dignified Transfer

 

II.

 

The war is very complete beginning, middle, or end

Four to five weeks unconditional surrender

Four to six weeks very soon short term short term

We’re winning the war by a lot pretty much

It’s not protracted this is not endless

Some time to achieve whatever the time is

Substantially ahead of our time projections

 

III.

 

I will receive the surrender delegation now

 

Whaddaya mean there’s no surrender delegation?

 

Someone’s smoking. Someone’s smoking. Stop it!

 

Is there a little touch of frost in the air?

I Admire You - 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

 

I Admire You

 

I admire you – because, you see, you argue with me

Because

You give your neighbors cookies instead of suspicion

You nudge verbs against nouns and find truth

You listen for music I can never hear

 

I admire you – because you play in the garden with words

Because

          You’re having a love affair with the world

          You help people who will never like you

          You make the sun rise each day with your song

 

I admire you – because you, see, you argue with me

          (Even though you know I am soooooooooo right!)

Dignified Transfer - 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

 

Dignified Transfer

 

Home / Collection Lines / Golden Trump Products

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Signature Hat Show your support for Donald Trump’s

mission with the “White Save America

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a pristine white background, bold “Save America”

slogan, and Trump’s gold signature. Crafted

from 100% cotton with an adjustable strap,

this stylish and durable hat is perfect

for rallies, outdoor activities, and everyday wear.

$24.99

 

 

 

Except for the line breaks, verbatim from:

 

White Save America With Gold Donald Trump Signature Hat | Trump Superstore

Unknown Saint - 25 Cents: 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

 

Unknown Saint – 25 Cents

 

A little plastic statue of a saint

(In context, am I permitted to say “tchotchke?”)

A woman in white with a flowered crown

And a tiny crucifix in her tiny hand

 

She stood between a broken-bladed pocketknife

And an HO gauge caboose without wheels

There was a Barbie with her arms ripped off

And an I LIKE IKE button from 1952

 

The little saint now stands upon my shelf

Gently to remind me of my better self

The Unnatural Abhor a Vacuum - 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

 

The Unnatural Abhor a Vacuum

 

What Happens Now to Kristi Noem’s Warehouse Jails? - The Atlantic

 

With their chatelaine gone all those warehouses

Sheeted in corrugated iron under the summer sun

And encircled, festooned, with razor wire

Stand empty in the desert, waiting for – you?

 

Their industrial disassembly lines

Scientifically designed to rip away lives

And lest they rust away from neglect and disuse

There must be bodies to feed into them

 

Starving on thin soup from stainless steel bowls

And pity the guards – who are starving their own souls

He Could Have Bench-Pressed a Honda - 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

 

He Could Have Bench-Pressed a Honda

 

In his youth he could have bench-pressed a Honda

He posed with cheerleaders whom he was quite fond of

One seated on each arm, his muscles to flout

In photographs their grandchildren now wonder about

 

On the field of sport he could do it all –

His forward passes like lightning would fall

Many a massive lineman fell to his block

And many a quarterback to his gentle knock

 

He was the class stud; I was the class fool

He’s now a janitor at our old school

 

(And I’m still a fool…)

Saturday, March 7, 2026

We Haven't Seen Good Ol' Charlie Brown in a While - 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

 

We Haven’t Seen Good Ol’ Charlie Brown in a While

 

Schroeder tickles the ivories for easy-listenin’

In the Gold Room over at the Airport Inn

Linus is Teacher of the Year at the middle school

Marcie built a chain of prosperous boutiques

 

Lucy waits tables at Franklin’s Lounge DeLuxe

Carefully counting her tips and tattoos

Frieda’s Kuts ‘n’ Kurls features the best gossip

Peppermint Patty is a professor at Penn State

 

We haven’t seen good ol’ Charlie Brown

 

Not since the district court judge pronounced his sentence:

“Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-WAH.”

Kristi Noem's Deportation Flight - 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

 

Kristi’s Deportation Flight

 

The president decided that she

Is a clear and present pain

She needs to go away, said he

(But does she get to keep the plane?)

Inertia, and It's all Your Fault - poem

Lawrence Hall

mhall46184@aol.com


Inertia, and It’s all Your Fault

 

Draggy all through the sugar-cream-coffeed morning

Drowsing over a book while the lawnmower yawns

Idling over the news while the grass laughs at me

Ignored by the weeds in their insolent rows

 

Calvin and his work ethic haunt my idleness

Impatiently urging me to bestir myself

And accomplish something meaningful

In tending the Garden God has given

 

But

 

I think

 

I’ll doze in this lawn chair and dream of you -

After all, what else would you have me do?


Sunday, February 22, 2026

About a Question Pontius Pilatus asks of Himself - 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

 

About a Question Pontius Pilatus asks of Himself

 

The epistemology of epistemology

Folds back on itself with a supplemental twist

To lose itself for the first time again

As a collapsed inflation of nothingness

 

Artificial ignorance regards a void

Densely vacuumed in heavy light

And pronounces it the truth of lies

A dragon-bridge crossing nothing at all

 

It’s on the InterGossip; it must be true

Existence voided in a nonexistential coup

Lunch with my Daughter - 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

 

Lunch with My Daughter

 

If Cinderella had been an attorney

The Ellis County Courthouse would have been her castle

A little stone Babel of balconies and turrets

Swimming up to a Southwest Airlines jet

 

We sat at an outdoor table across the street

A small café’ - Butter & Grace – The Mini

Which we renamed Beurre & Grace – Le Mini

And savoured a light lunch and the cool spring day

 

We savoured music, lunch, a busy street

And watched the peoples of Texas en paseo


Thursday, February 12, 2026

The Modern Science of Imprisoned Sound - 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

 

The Modern Science of Imprisoned Sound

 

If thousands boo the vice-president

And NBC filters them out

Is there a sound?

The 1970s, When Lapels Roamed Wild - 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

 

The 1970s – When Lapels Roamed Wild

 

In the 1970s’ men’s lapels grew wider and wider

And men’s neckties grew wider and wider

And men’ sideburns grew wider and wider

And they all got so wide that they blew away

 

(Poof!)

 

And haven’t been seen since

And in the Darkness Bind Them - 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

 

And in the Darkness Bind Them

 

-from the ring-verse in Lord of the Rings

 

I.

 

I should pity a certain poor old man

But he has established for us concentration camps

Where pity is forbidden

 

II.

 

                          And why is Jeffrey Epstein’s ghost

Our fourth branch of government?

A Night Prayer for You - 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 Night Prayer for You

 

Thank you

 

For the prayers you offered over your first cuppa

For the breakfast you made for yourself and others

For singing along with the radio on your way to work

For wearing your seatbelt and stopping at the lights

 

Thank you

 

For going to work in the heat or the dust or the snow

For tipping the overworked server at a hurried lunch

For the jokes that made the workday better for all

For minding your tongue when the boss said something stupid

          (something really stupid)

 

Thank you

 

For the verse you wrote, the words you read

For your little children whom you tucked into bed

 

Thank you –

 

You made the world a better place today

My Preferred Verb and Adverb

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

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

Home - Hello Poetry

 

My Preferred Verb and Adverb

  

Grow up.

 

In other contexts “up” can be a preposition or adjective, but in “grow up” it is an adverb. As Pontius Pilate said, “what I have written I have written.”

My Brother Lost His Wife - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com


 

My Brother Lost His Wife

 

Which sounds as if he misplaced her, like car keys

But she has gone away, as must we all

Into those far-beyond mysteries beyond our poor knowing

And leaving us vacuums and vacancies

 

And he is sorting out bills to be paid

Her nursing license which will not be renewed

The bits and bobs to be given to the children

Daily remembances in all the little things

 

His days are mysteries

Filling in the great emptiness in his life

                           and all the small ones

Sunday, February 8, 2026

A Boyhood Friend Goes to the River - memorial poem

Lawrence Hall

mhall46184@aol.com

 

A Boyhood Friend Goes to the River

 

 

My soul has grown deep like the rivers

 

-Langston Hughes

 

 

His son visited him in hospital every day

The father told the son, “I need to go to the river”

And so they left the hospital; they sat on the bank

They watched the river, they talked to the waters

 

They listened to the waters and the winds

One more lesson from the river, the eternal flow

The growing-up river, the teaching river

The river, their father-and-son river

 

One day, in silence, his spirit slipped away

And crossed over the river forever

Saturday, February 7, 2026

Wednesday, February 4, 2026

The Galaxy's Guide to the Hitchhiker - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

mhall46184@aol.com


The Galaxy’s Guide to the Hitchhiker

 

A very, very, very, very weak attempt at the Thai Khlong Suparb form

An idea suggested by Emily Johnson

On a topic suggested by an idea from Bulletcookie (sic)

 

       Gratitude to Douglas Adams will be found

  locked in a filing cabinet in a disused room in the basement

 

We are all hitchhikers of the spirit

Thumbing a ride to the moon and stars

And we fall for a pause on Mars

On our tide of discovery

 

And then swing an orbit around

An errant earthling satellite

Sweetly sing to its blinking light

While riding along on a comet

 

Do the stars have a guide to us?

We study our home galaxy

But does our galaxy study you and me?

We are all hitchhikers of the spirit!