Sunday, March 31, 2024

Unthrifty Loveliness - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Unthrifty Loveliness

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 4

 

I had told her how beautiful she was

(she knew that through the mirror, mirror on the wall)

For her bold eyes were upon herself

As she magicked with lipstick and mascara

 

I had hoped her blush was for me to gaze upon

Her hair, her perfect lips, her slender hips

Over candlelight at the Starlight Roof

Then the telephone, not nature, called her away

 

I had told her how beautiful she was

That sports-car guy, far handsomer than I

Had said so too

Saturday, March 30, 2024

The Discount-Store Patriot and the Bible Salesman - rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Discount-Store Patriot and the Bible Salesman

 

Two greedy old men a-shakin’ their Jesus cup -

No, son, for that I ain’t a-standin’ up

Look in Thy Glass - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Look in Thy Glass

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 3

 

I look in the mirror and ask, “Who is that old man?”

They said I favored my mother when I was young

Red hair and freckles, and an impish grin

But later they said I had to become a man

 

She had her April, and then so did I

And there are Aprils enough for everyone

They are not my Aprils, but they will do

Every April reflects our youth back to us


I look in the mirror and ask, “Who is that old man?”

I miss my mother

 

Friday, March 29, 2024

Battle Stations Aboard the Bismarck - poem

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Battle Stations Aboard the Bismarck

 

When general quarters sounded that morning in May

Did a seventeen-year-old apprentice cook

Rushing to his topside battle station

But remembering the chief’s daily admonitions

 

And the way his mother kept her kitchen clean

Notice on a galley table a speck of dust

And pause to brush it away

When general quarters sounded that morning in May

A Tattered Weed - poem

 

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

A Tattered Weed

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 2

 

Scene i: a lawn chair beneath a shady oak

 

Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered weed

After my morning’s work, creaking into my chair

And reaching for my iced tea and a book

Sipping on both for a vision of youth

 

My Hercule Poirot body is made almost young again

By strolling through Arden with Rosalind and Orlando

(Only for a while; they would much rather be alone…)

And then the iced tea tells me of Ceylon

 

Okay, sure, sometimes I feel like a tattered weed

But sometimes - forever young

Thursday, March 28, 2024

The World's Fresh Ornaments - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Word’s Fresh Ornaments

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 1

 

The world’s fresh ornaments – children at play

In a springtime glow of iridescent greens

A sweet Creation scene of little bare feet

And puppies’ paws scampering across soft lawns

 

Bold pirate ships patrol the honeybees’ pool

And mockingbirds offer flights to the tops of the oaks

A line of waving crocus borders this Narnia

Oh, could there ever be a happier world?

 

The sun, the green, the bees, the endless day

The world’s fresh ornaments – children at play

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Look at How Much Sevin Dust is NOT in the Container - photographs

                                                      Brand-new container just now opened

Sevin (r) is good stuff, but while we admire the biologists and scientists who make gardening and food production possible, the alligator-shoe boys in marketing are not to be trusted.




 


Sunday, March 24, 2024

My New Career as a Doorman - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

My New Career as a Doorman

 

“The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom let us attend!”

 

-in the Orthodox liturgy just before the Nicene Creed

 

I used to light a candle for you before Mass

With a prayer that ascended to Heaven

For as long as the candle remained lit

Even after everyone departed, deep into the night

 

Now I open the door for you before Mass

Even though you’re not here, so does that count?

With age I am clumsy in so many things

But I can open the door and say hello

 

And every candle I ever lit for you

Still shines

 

Saturday, March 23, 2024

Make America Pray Again Otto - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Make America Pray Again OTTO

 

We see the bills of their uniform caps

“OTTO” is the legend beneath the peak

Which reads “Make America Pray Again”

The operative word is “Make” – we must be forced

 

Then who is OTTO, and whence his authoritative voice?

Is he a god come among us with a rod

To beat us down until we bleed and bleat

A great American Ave or Shema?

 

A cultic cap is neither theology nor art

And I will never invite OTTO into my heart

Whistling Past the Graveyard - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Whistling Past the Graveyard

 

No one whistles past a graveyard now

Not with the radio on and the windows up

Though in our barefoot childhood long ago

Walking home alone at dusk – we whistled

 

But there is no need to whistle now

The cemetery is not a place of spooks and haints

But of those childhood friends with whom we walked

Past our ancestors to the swimming hole

 

No one whistles past a graveyard now

Because those whom we love are silent there

Friday, March 22, 2024

We Serve Our Princess Catherine - poem

 Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

We Serve Our Princess Catherine

 

 

“We be the King’s men”

 

– Thomas Hardy and others

 

 

We are the King’s people

 

After the Order of Arthur and Carodoc

Of Athelstan and Edward, Flan Sinna

Kenneth McAlpine, Gruffydd ap Llywelyn

And all crown-bearers among our ancient isles

 

We are the Queen’s people

 

And because we are the Queen’s people

We know that every daughter of our isles is a Princess

And every woman of our isles a Queen

To whom we pledge our loyalty and faith

 

We are the Prince’s people

 

We serve His Royal Highness without reserve –

But perhaps we love our Princess of Wales more


Monarchy can easily be ‘debunked;' but watch the faces, mark the accents of the debunkers. These are the men whose tap-root in Eden has been cut: whom no rumour of the polyphony, the dance, can reach - men to whom pebbles laid in a row are more beautiful than an arch. Yet even if they desire equality, they cannot reach it. Where men are forbidden to honour a king they honour millionaires, athletes or film-stars instead: even famous prostitutes or gangsters. For spiritual nature, like bodily nature, will be served; deny it food and it will gobble poison.

 

-C.S. Lewis, “Present Concerns,” 1948


Thursday, March 21, 2024

Cattywampas - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

Cattywampas

 

Cattywampas? You don’t know what cattywampus means?

 

Cattywampas is:

 

When you discover in your apple only half a worm

When your planet is out of its orbit

When you lose your lover, your job, and your cat

When your DNA is flagged by the FBI

 

Cattywampas is:

 

When a traffic light is forever red

When the car wash strips out the rubber seals

When the doctor says you’re okay…for a man your age

When your neighbor on disability jogs every day

 

Cattywampus is:

 

When you have life sorted, indexed, and filed

And then find yourself staring into those eyes

Years on the Night Shift - couplet

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Years on the Night Shift

 

Today’s student loans need not be met

How privileged of me – I paid my debt

Sunday, March 17, 2024

Rain Puddles and Children Make the World Better - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Rain Puddles and Children

 

For Nora and Theo

 

Our boat-captain neighbor is home from the sea1

(Okay, the Gulf of Mexico)

And this morning took his children for a walk

Along our road, and stopped to visit with me -

Nora watches and listens, but Theo loves to talk

 

Talktalktalktalktalktalktalktalktalktalktalktalk

 

He wildly rushes his sentences and words

Words piled in heaps - he has so much to say!

But Nora in silence celebrates flowers and birds

She sees whole worlds in puddles along the way

 

And into them Theo LEAPS!

 

We know this world is in a bit of a muddle

But when children splash through a rain-filled puddle

 

They make everything better

 

 

 

 

1Cf. “Requiem,” Robert Louis Stevenson. The context is entirely different.

Friday, March 15, 2024

Gardening with Happy Bees - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Gardening with Happy Bees

 

                …for so work the honey-bees,

Creatures that by a rule in nature teach

The act of order to a peopled kingdom

 

-Henry V, I.ii.87-89

 

A bumblebee hovers in front of my face

No hostility; it’s simply greeting me

As I putter from pot to place to pot again

Messing contentedly with seedlings and soil

 

But honeybees race around me in formation

No hostility; they’re ignoring me

They speed from water to flower to hive and back –

After all, every flower needs a little love (wink)

 

Blessed spring hovers softly everywhere

As bee-sy bees sing their sweetest airs

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

The InterGossip is a Content Cop - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The InterGossip is a Content Cop

 

Number Six: I have a choice?

Number Two: Of course. You can do as you want.

Number Six: As long as it's what you want.

Number Two: As long as it is what the majority wants.

 

-The Prisoner

 

The InterGossip is a content cop holding up her hand

Half in my face, half-way to a Fascist salute

Forbidding me to read or study any further

Without pledging loyalty to a community

 

The InterGossip is a content cop holding up her hand

 

If I want to keep reading, I must subscribe

The cost is access to my information…information…information

“You have read five of five free stories this month”

Which is their way of saying, “Your papers, comrade”

 

The InterGossip is a content cop holding up her hand

 

And if sometimes my words violate the standards

Of communities I never joined – white space

 

The InterGossip is a content cop holding up her hand

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

There's Nothing Old to Write About the Moon - quatrain

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

There’s Nothing Old to Write About the Moon

 

The newest moon – it blessed us tonight

A sharp bright crescent within a rim-glowing orb

Following the sun’s afterglow deep into the west

Ornamented with a frosting of stars

Monday, March 11, 2024

Ethan Crumbley's "Help Me" - column, 11 March 2024

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

11 March 2024

 

“Help Me”

 

Murderer Ethan Crumbley scribbled “Help Me” on a geometry paper [Counselor who allowed school shooter Ethan Crumbley to stay in class despite drawing guns and threats says he thought it would be 'better' for him to be around students than alone after his parents refused to take him home | Daily Mail Online]. Many have inferred that this was that now ubiquitous “cry for help” employed as an excuse for all sorts of violent behavior, and that those who allegedly ignored this one of all the many cries for help are thus guilty of murder themselves and should be imprisoned or even executed.

There are three flaws in this conclusion:

1. That every complaint, whine, resistance, tantrum, protest, or scribble issuing forth from the mouth or pen of an unhappy person is an absolute moral, ethical, and legal imperative for every other human on this planet to shut down all economic, legal, cultural, artistic, and domestic activities until the complainant’s perceived needs are addressed.

2. That every man and woman who fails to read the minds of others or notice any of those famous “red flags” in the behaviors of others should be imprisoned or executed.

3. That Ethan Crumbley was not given help.

I wish to address item 3.

Ethan Crumbley wrote “My life is useless” (and it was; he chose to make it so), “The world is dead,” and “Blood everywhere,” along with foolish adolescent drawings, on a geometry handout on congruent triangles given to him and every other young person in his class as a review in preparation for a coming exam. A look at the exercises and at the vocabulary in the reason bank at the top right of the paper indicates that the instruction offered Ethan Crumbley was of a high level.

Ethan Crumbley was given help through, among other things, a high-expectation mathematics class to help him prepare for a useful, productive, and happy life not only through the immediate mastery of the needful science of mathematics but in extending those challenging lessons in problem-solving and logical thinking into all other fields of human endeavor. A Uyghur teenager would envy him that.

Ethan Crumbley was given help through the provision of a warm, well-ventilated, well-lit place to learn. A Ukrainian teenager would envy him that.

Ethan Crumbley was given help through the offer of a hot meal at school every day. A Haitian teenager would envy him that.

Ethan Crumbley was given help, through his school, church, and community, with opportunities for cultural and charitable activities in music, dance, informal prayer meetings, fellowship, athletics, art programs, Boy Scouts, theatre programs, science clubs, roadside litter pickups, food drives for the poor for Thanksgiving, Christmas toy drives for the poor, nursing home visits for shut-ins, and other programs. A Communist Chinese teenager working long hours and with bleeding fingers to make junk for the amusement of Americans and the enrichment of Beijing oligarchs would envy him that.

Ethan Crumbley was given help through association with hundreds of other young people from diverse backgrounds and with all sorts of wonderful goals. The young, like adults, are not always likeable. Welcome to reality, kid. Deal with it. A Venezuelan teenager in the streets with no school and no hope and no supportive peers would envy him all those happy possibilities.

Ethan Crumbley was given help through a world of books, music, dance, cinema, parks, after-school jobs, healthy recreation, youth clubs, and volunteer service to people young and old who could have used his help and kindness. But in the end Ethan Crumbley found nothing more interesting in life than his own sulky self-pity.

Ethan Crumbley’s parents, like the leaders of a drug cartel, didn’t help at all; they gave him a semi-automatic 9mm pistol.

 

-30-

 

The Door of My Subaru Popped Out at 10,000 Feet! - photograph

THE DOOR OF MY SUBARU POPPED OUT AT 10,000 FEET!

(well, no, not really)

This is not an altered photograph...




...but, yes, it is deceptive. I was photographing spring bluebonnets in my yard and my MePhone accidentally took this shot  ("I didn't pull the trigger, your honor!") as I was getting back into the car. My Subaru Forester is a great ride in every way, but it can't fly.

For a Texas Ranger Upon His Retirement - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

For Brandon Bess, Texas Ranger

Upon His Retirement

 

 

Strong of Heart, Lover of Truth, Teller of Tales, Stoutest of Friends

 

 

“Rangers! The best in Texas!”

 

-Monsieur Paul Regret in The Comancheros

 

 

A Ranger

 

Tracking a man among the obscurities

Of a weedy field lit by refinery flares

Beer cans, shadows and mud, cigarette butts -

A suspect is out there somewhere, out in the dark

 

A Ranger

 

Tracking a man among the obscurities

Of Texas plains known to Nocona and Coronado

Bleak ridges where the Comanche danced for the sun -

A suspect is up there somewhere, hiding from himself

 

A Ranger

 

Tracking a man among the obscurities

Of decaying DNA in a coat worn years ago

A few rotting fibers under a microscope -

A suspect is in there somewhere, under a light

 

A Ranger

 

Finding a man in the darkness of lost souls

And bringing him out of it, into the Light

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Adverbs: Search Them Out and Destroy Them - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Search Them Out and Destroy Them

 

 

Do you truly and honestly want your writing

Finally to be actually and really stronger?

 

Then go search out your adverbs. Kill them all.

 

Do you want your writing to be stronger?

Friday, March 8, 2024

Wild Insects I Have Known - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Wild Insects I Have Known

 

(as Ernest Thompson Seton did not say)

 

Please don’t tell me that red wasps are benign

A recent one I met had my behind in mind

Its sting by design was most malign

So as I sit please be patient and kind

If I indulge in an unmanly whine!

Sunday, March 3, 2024

No One Keeps a Diary Anymore - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

No One Keeps a Diary Anymore

 

 

Which is better — to be ruled by one tyrant three thousand miles away or by three thousand tyrants one mile away?

 

– Mather Byles

 

 

No one keeps a diary – life is safer that way

Men have been hanged for what they have written

It may be that they revealed some forgotten crime

Or, worse, that they possessed the gift of thought

 

No one keeps a diary – life is safer that way

The Moms for Liberty are scared of books

Even the diary of a little girl

Because children must not read or write or think

 

No one keeps a diary – life is safer that way -

And have you self-purged your own books today?

 

 

South Carolina school district reviews, returns books after ban attempt (msn.com)

 

The first Mom For Liberty to successfully ban Anne Frank went on an antisemitic livestream - Jewish Telegraphic Agency (jta.org)

 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

Bees and Breeze and Lime-Green Butterflies - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Bees and Breeze and Lime-Green Butterflies

 

How beautiful the world is

In the morning cool and clear!

 

-Anna Ahkmatova, “The Lime-Trees by the Open Door”

 

Bees and breeze and lime-green butterflies

Follow the little green electric tiller

Bouncing through the turf from clod to clod

Upending roots and sticks and last year’s grass

 

Fresh soil awakened from its winter sleep

Eager to push summer sunflowers up and up

Sneezes and wheezes follow the tiller too

Pollens in green and yellow, clouds of allergens

 

But, oh, the earthen scents, perfect skies -

Bees and breeze and lime-green butterflies!

Friday, March 1, 2024

Is LONESOME DOVE a Sacred Text? - quatrain

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

One of Texas’ Sacred Books

 

Taking an oath by placing one hand

On a copy of Lonesome Dove

Is not yet law in our sacred land

But by the Grace of God above…

 

Someday it might be