Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Darwin Re-Thinks it All - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ice Storm: Darwin Needs to Re-Think His Errors

 

The electrics flicker off then on, all night long

Which wakes me, and my wake then wakes the dogs

Who protest and blanket-burrow even deeper

While angry sleet rattles the window panes

 

When the weather is foul and the power fails

We are left with a flashlight and a book

Staticky noises from the radio

A bottle of cold coffee, and our thoughts

 

When the night is cold and the wind is strong

One comes to understand that Darwin was wrong

Tuesday, February 16, 2021

Not This Cardinal, Not This Snow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Not This Cardinal, Not This Snow

 

Men have written of cardinals before

(Both ecclesiastical and avian)

And men have written of fresh snow before

But not this cardinal and not this snow

 

And so we visit Plato’s obscure cave

To cast our vision around the shadowing flames

Plato will not tell us what we must think

And so we think out all things for ourselves

 

Men have written of cardinals before -

But not this cardinal, and not this snow

 

In this context “men” is inclusive. Honi soit qui mal y pense, as Fat Henry said.

Monday, February 15, 2021

My Soul-Quest for My Meaning - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

My Soul-Quest for My Meaning

 

V:

 

My parents don’t understand me; I’m special

So sensitive, an artist of the mind

So delicate, a bearer of all sorrows

So fragile, unsuited to physical work

 

They tell me to get off my (self) and find a job

 

R:

 

Your parents understand you perfectly

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Saint Valentine's Day Snow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Saint Valentine’s Day Snow

 

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale

Light falls upon the pages of a book

Its words unread - the snow may come this hour

Between a noun and verb, a glance, a look

 

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale

The figures of our story now pause for us

Impatient for their journey to proceed

But through the window waits another tale

 

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale

Light falls upon the pages of our lives

Saturday, February 13, 2021

When You're up to Your Apostrophe in Frozen Alligators - weekly column

 

Mack Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

When You’re up to Your Apostrophe in Frozen Alligators

 

The current spell of global warming has set us to checking pipe insulation, wrapping old towels and sheets around outside faucets, considering how much firewood is left in anticipation of power lines being downed by ice, making sure the generator is working, taking an inventory of batteries, and catching up on the laundry.

 

Our northern neighbors may scoff at us, but when in our semi-tropical milieu we find ourselves up to our apostrophes in frozen alligators we are ‘way out of our comfort zone.

 

If we were to travel even zonier north and then east we might come to the land of the Innu in Labrador and find ourselves zoned out of many of our existential frames of reference.

 

Anthony Germain has reported for Canadian Broadcasting for some years, both on radio and tv, not only in Canada but in China and as a war correspondent among bloody scenes in Whosestupidideawasthisistan. Midlife through the journey of life, as Dante might say, Anthony did not find himself in a darksome wood but in class as he returned to school part-time to teach journalism to university students and to learn how to teach younger children.

 

As part of his practicum Anthony is now teaching (MTIE Board Office - Home (innueducation.ca) in Natuashish in the Mushuau Innu First Nation in northern Labrador (innu.ca). No roads lead to or from Natuashish; it accessible only by sea or the airport’s gravel runway.

 

The Innu Nation consists of a population of some 3,200 people. Natuashish is one of two towns, with about 800 people. The school is K-12, following the provincial program and also layering in Innu language, songs, art, and naturecraft.

 

And it’s cold.

 

Cold.

 

In January and February the temperature lurks constantly around zero, and there are only about six hours of daylight. Even the ice and snow complain about the cold.

 

To the Innu our current snap sometimes dropping into the teens would be merely brisk.

 

The Innu have lived there for some 8,000 years, though, and they make it work.

 

As for me, well, I’m going to put another log on the fire right here where I am.

 

natuashish school - Bing images

 

How a 27-kilometre trek through marshland is helping these teens learn ‘they can do anything’ | The Star

 

Natuashish : Community of Utshimassit | Portrait of a Nation | Culture | Nametau innu: Memory and knowledge of Nitassinan

 

Natuashish - Bing video

 

-30-

 

Someday a New King Arthur - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Someday a New Arthur

 

“Chasing Chaucer and Beowulf out of the Curriculum”

 

-Spectator

 

Someday a new Merlin among the ruins

Will give a new Arthur a trove of hidden books:

Chaucer and Milton, Shakespeare, Coleridge, Keats

And maybe even long silent Malory

 

Someday a bold Arthur will command his scribes

To copy for the people the people’s words

Words long forbidden to them by narrow tyrants

Making words free to all, and letting in the sun 1

 

Someday a wise King Arthur will reign again

Within the greatest empire of all – the mind

 

 

1 Tennyson, “The Coming of Arthur,” line 60

Friday, February 12, 2021

I Get no WHO from Wuhan - Doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The World Health Organization Concludes

That the CV Did not come From Wuhan

 

As Cole Porter did not say:

 

I get no WHO from Wuhan

Is it influenza from Fiorenza

So tell me why should it be true

That I get a virus from you

Thursday, February 11, 2021

This Ashtray was Stolen from the Seaview Motel - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

This Ashtray was Stolen from the Seaview Motel

 

Color TV

Weekly Rates

No Pets

 

I couldn’t live at the beach forever

A series of shabby little rented rooms

Cheap wine and thin volumes of free verse

Beach hippie chicks, White Rabbit, and guitars

 

I had to go away, or someday die

An unrealized old man set out on the curb

And so, stubbing out a last cigarette

I packed my seabag and caught the morning bus

 

I couldn’t live at the beach forever

And in the end became respectable

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

A Reasoned but as Yet Inconclusive Debate on the Events of 6 January 2021 - poem (of sorts)

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Reasoned but as Yet Inconclusive Debate

on the Events of 6 January 2021

 

 

Some assembly was required; the arguments are from:

 

The Merchant of Venice IV.i

The Constitution, Amendment XIV, Section 3

The Jerusalem Bible, Psalm 106

 

 

The quality of mercy is not strain’d

No person shall…hold any office

Happy are we if we exercise justice

 

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes

Civil or military, under the United States

And constantly practise virtue

 

But mercy us above this sceptred sway

Who, having previously taken an oath

We have sinned quite as much as our fathers

 

(Mercy) is enthroned in the hearts of kings

To support the Constitution of the United States

We have been wicked, we are guilty

 

And earthly power doth then show likest God’s

Shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion

For the sake of his name, he saved them

 

When mercy seasons justice

Against the same

Having faith in his promises

Tuesday, February 9, 2021

"The South Dakota Attorney General Killed a Man" - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The South Dakota Attorney General Killed a Man.

Everything Else Is a Mystery.

 

-Yahoo!News [sic]

 

Mysteries obtain within each life and plant and mineral

And that there’s such a creature as an attorney general

Monday, February 8, 2021

A Saint Valentine's Day Gift for my Daughter - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Saint Valentine’s Day Gift for my Daughter

Who Lives Far Away

 

Sunday Morning

Via electrical mail

 

Dear Child,

 

An agent of the federal government

May or may not deliver a package to you

Tomorrow, or not just one but maybe two

Or maybe one package at one time and

 

Maybe the second package at another

Or maybe there is only one package

Or maybe two, or, like Schrodinger's Cat

You may consider that there is a package

 

In your mailbox and be content with that

As a perception of reality

 

Love,

 

 

Your Old Dad

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Super Servile Sunday - poem / re-post

 

Super Servile Sunday

 

O sink not down to that corrosive couch,

Docile before the Orwellian screen

That regulates the lives of the servile,

Dictating dress and drink, demeanor, dreams

 

Declare your independence from the sludge

Of vague obedientiaries who fling

Away their empty lives in submission

To harsh, diagonal inches of rule

 

Poor weaklings chanting tainted tribal songs

In chorus hamsterable, huddled, heaped

While costumed in their masters’ liveries

And feeling little while thinking even less

 

The very model of the State’s non-men

Predictable and dull, submissive ghosts

Crowded, herded through cosmic cattle chutes

Reflected in dim, noisy nothingness.

 

But you…

 

But you, O you, be not of them, but be

A wanderer in the moonlight, one known

To God and to His holy solitude.

Another Day of Rioting - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Another Day of Rioting

 

There they go again, screaming at each other

In a land of plenty, but all wanting more

Through posturing, threatening, bullying

And blaming each other for the wreckage

 

There they go again, screaming at each other

Bluejays and cardinals are the noisiest of all

And squirrels muscling in on the action

Crows refereeing from branches up high

 

There they go again, screaming each other

Around their seed-feeder beneath their oak

Friday, February 5, 2021

Time Change, Battery Change, Spare Change - weekly column

 

Mack Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Time Change, Battery Change, Spare Change

 

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.”

 

-Thoreau

 

One of my better ideas - well, okay, one of my few good ideas - was to learn from the InterGossip how to pop the back of a wristwatch and change the battery.

 

Most watches are electrical now, which saves the wearer the unspeakable agony of winding a watch once a day. Whew! Thank goodness for labor-saving gadgets. Now there’s time (so to speak) to write that book you’ve been planning.

 

Batteries fail, though, and jewelers charge an hour hand and a second hand to change them. If you can do it yourself, you can save lots of pocket change for that time change.

 

For watches with pop-off backs I use a jewelers’ screwdriver as a pry.

 

For a threaded back, you will need a watch wrench. A pipe wrench won’t do.

 

When my Swiss Army Watch (maybe or maybe not made in Switzerland; the band was labeled “Made in China”) battery failed I bought via the Intergossip an adjustable three-point wrench for opening watches with threaded backs.

 

The first time I opened my shiny, heavy, sturdy, manly Swiss Army Watch I was surprised to see that the functional gut of the thing was a tiny motor housed in tiny little plastic sleeve. And it didn’t last long. After my second disposable Swiss Army Watch I went back to cheap Timex watches, which have lasted much longer.

 

When you remove the back from a watch you should do so in a clean, dry atmosphere so that the watch’s innards don’t get dirty or damp. Before you remove the old battery take a picture of it so you can place the new battery correctly. Note the make and numbers on the battery, and then access a battery chart on the InterGossip – different makers of the same battery number it differently, and if you don’t have the same brand in your tool box or if it’s not available at the store, you will know what other brand will serve.

 

From the InterGossip I bought a big card of all sorts of different off-brand watch batteries / button batteries, and I can usually find what I need. If not, I then drive to the store and buy one that will do, although it will be pricier.

 

If I owned an expensive watch I would be reluctant to take off the back at all, but since I have only a couple of Wal-Mart Timex watches (one with a brown band, one with a black band), I don’t worry about it. And I haven’t botched a job yet. You’ve got an old Timex reposing peacefully in the back of a drawer; practice with that.

 

Young people don’t wear watches anymore; they check the time on their little Orwellian telescreens, but for a high school student a cheap watch is a nice beginning-of-term gift. During their junior and senior years students have to take so many STUPID tests for college admissions and scholarships, and pulling out a MePhone even to check the time is an instant turn-in-your-test-and-go-home-now thing; a watch for telling time (unless it’s got a little calculator in it) is safe.

 

Beside, the other students will be fascinated: “Is that a wristwatch? I’ve seen them in old movies!”

 

CAUTION: WATCH BATTERIES / BUTTON BATTERIES ARE DANGEROUS TO CHILDREN AND ANIMALS. Little batteries are tiny and shiny, attractive to little children, animals, and some sophomores. If swallowed there is enough electrical kick in a button battery to burn through the wall of the esophagus or stomach

(Swallowed Button Batteries Must be Removed: Study (webmd.com)).

 

When I change the batteries in a watch or toy I do so over the open drawer of my desk so that if I drop a battery or one of those tiny little screws it’s safe.

 

Watches, like pocket notebooks and fountain pens and pocketknives, are out of fashion now, but they’re useful and even fun.

 

-30-

 

Prayer Group in a Cinder-Block Room - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Prayer Group in a Cinder-Block Room

 

A Prisoner's Voice:


We’re all here for all sorts of different crimes

I made it for about three years last time

Built my business back up, rented a house

Married my baby-momma and started being a dad

 

And I was feeling good about everything

My old customers came back and trusted me

I was sure grateful to them; went back to church

My wife and kids and mom were proud of me

 

I got cocky; I thought I had it all whipped

I’m back in this white suit for another ten

Thursday, February 4, 2021

“San Francisco Sues its Own School District to Reopen Classes” - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

“San Francisco Sues its Own School District to Reopen Classes”

 

-Associated Press

 

Student Voices:

 

“I need help in understanding Don Quixote

Karamazov for me,” replies her friend

“For Christmas I received the Q edition

of The Oxford Book of English Verse,” says another

 

(And the Board exclaims, “The Q edition!? Eeeeeeek!”)

 

“I’m prepping Latin with our parish priest”

“Well, I’m tackling The Faerie Queene this year”

“I’m writing our class play in iambic hexameter”

“I wish I could read Pushkin in the original Russian”

 

(And the Board asks, “Pushkin? What’s their team like this season?”)

 

Student Chorus:

 

“We’ve got to study harder, everyone agrees

Lest we be as dense as our school’s trustees”

 

 

 

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

If Your Life Were a Time Capsule - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

If Your Life Were a Time Capsule

 

If your life were a time capsule of sorts

In what cornerstone would you brick in in

Against a mysterious opening day

When someone in the future would open you up

 

What would be found in the shell you left behind?

Shifting memories of moments of ecstasies

And mournful ghosts of sorrows best suppressed

And careful lists of long discarded dreams

 

If your life were a time capsule of sorts

What would you choose of you as a temporal deposit?

Monday, February 1, 2021

The Presentation of the Rodent - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

 

The Presentation of the Rodent

 

“The Feast of Candlemas…is perhaps the most ancient festival of Our Lady.”

 

-Missale Romanum

 

The Catholic funeral home calendar

Prints “GROUNDHOG DAY (USA)” in generous type

“The Presentation of the Lord,” well, not so much

And “                                1 not at all

 

Perhaps one day we faithful will look out

From our dark-tunneled burrows of lost time

And gaze upon the morning shadows to ask

If there will be 2,000 more years of civilization

 

Because in the Temple

 

Our Lady presents unto our Lord the Child

But we present unto ourselves - a rat

 

 

 

1 The Purification of Our Lady

 

Follow the Science Down Rabbit Holes - poem

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Follow the Science Down Rabbit Holes

 

Infections are up and deaths are ‘way down

Or is it that infections are down and deaths are up?

Schools must be closed and the restaurants open

Or schools must be open and restaurants closed

 

Vaccinations are available, except when they’re not

And are necessary for all, except when they’re not

And masks are necessary, except when they’re not

And Saint Blaise blessed us at some thirty feet 1

 

The captains and kings 2 and whitecoats falter

 

And the rest of us

 

Can only leave all at the foot of the Altar

 

 

 

 

1 Per the bishop’s order, throats were blessed at a distance in petition to Saint Blaise, with the priest adding, “And we can hope there is a blessing.”

 

2 Kipling, “Recessional”

Sunday, January 31, 2021

A Young Roman Responds to Saint Benedict - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Young Roman Responds to Saint Benedict

 

“We are about to open a school for God’s service…”

 

-Rule, St. Benedict

 

Okay, but what about your S.T.E.M. offerings?

Does your footer pitch have artificial turf?

The books are too heavy - I have a note

My feelings are covered by the ADA

 

Silence? But I gotta have my tunes, man!

“Correction of Youths?” My mummy will sue!

“Daily manual labor” – may I be excused?

“No talk after Compline” – But can I text?

 

OMG OMG nonononono OMG, no?

 

Not for me, dude; and this I’ve got to say:

I know that your program’s famously prestigious

But I am, like, spiritual, not religious

And, hey, you know, you’re just not Harvard, okay?

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Sensuous Sophia the Sex Robot - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Sensuous Sophia the Sex Robot

 

I guess that’s okay, the wise man mutters,

But is she any good at cleaning gutters?

Friday, January 29, 2021

A Child of God and of Long Summer Afternoons - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Child of God and of Long Summer Afternoons

 

Do you remember lying on the grassy bank

On a summer afternoon, holding very still

Watching the minnows only inches from your eyes?

And do you remember the earthy smell

 

Of the amber-colored water?

 

How many moments in your adult life

Have been as good as that?

Thursday, January 28, 2021

A Child of God and of Summer Afternoons - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

A Child of God and of Summer Afternoons

 

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.

 

-Thoreau

 

In an early episode of Gunsmoke Marshal Dillon reads in the newspaper that passenger trains will soon be traveling at 25 miles per hour. Chester says something to the effect of, “Mr. Dillon, I just don’t think that God meant for people to travel that fast.”

 

I’m kinda with Chester on that.

 

Sadly there is very little travel at all just now except for GossipNet influencers and the hyper-wealthy who from their leaky old Sears & Roebuck john-boats anchored in Cannes proclaim their love for the rest of us.

 

I miss john-boats with their childhood association of paddling about in the creek or pond. The cover story was fishing, and maybe a perch or two would find its end with a Odysseus-and-the-Sirens earthworm, but that was just an excuse for escaping parental control for a summer afternoon, splashing about just off a sandbar in the shady shallows, and enjoying the un-air-conditioned life before having to go get the cows up for the evening milking.

 

John-boats in illo tempore were flat-bottomed, made of wood, 12 or 14 feet long, with a broad flat nose for slipping onto a sandbar or into the reeds. As perfect shallow-draft vessels for wetlands their American Indian and ‘Cajun ancestries were obvious.

 

You could fit a little Evinrude to a john-boat if you wanted, but that would have missed the point, like putting a carburetor on a fishing pole.

 

A john-boat’s technology was limited to the entertainment system, a transistor radio for listening to The Big Bopper from Beaumont.

 

(Beaumont had traffic lights, or so someone said.)

 

There was no depth-finder unless you sank the boat; then you had to sort out the depth for yourself.

 

Do you remember lying on the grassy bank on a summer afternoon, holding very still to watch the minnows only inches from your eyes? And the earthy smell of the amber-colored water?

 

How many moments in your adult life have been as good as that?

 

-30-

Where Do I Apply to be Corrupted? - doggerel?

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Where Do I Apply to be Corrupted?

 

                        BOOK: KGB began grooming 'young and vain' Donald Trump                                                       40 years ago by saving him from financial ruin...

 

-U. K. Daily Mail

 

 

This rumor has irrupted

 

Life is interrupted

 

Outrage has erupted

 

          But I want to know

 

          Where can I go

 

To be corrupted?

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Murder Most Cosy - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Murder Most Cosy

 

A murder cannot possibly be cosy

With blood all over the vicarage floor

And while Miss Marple is politely nosy

There is still the problem of all that gore

 

A murder committed in an English village

Is hardly cosy to m’lord who died

Surrounded by hop fields under tillage

He still is dead (tho’ in the countryside)

 

A murder cannot possibly be cosy –

But is the widow finding life now rosy?

Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Learning to Comb Your Hair - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Learning to Comb Your Hair

 

Do you remember learning how to comb your hair?

Your mother had you look into the mirror

          (What a handsome young man!)

And watch as she made magic with a comb

 

First, she chased all your hair forward and down

Until your eyebrows laughed for the fun of it

And then she chose an imaginary line

And parted the strands for the rest of the day

 

Hooray!

 

Do you remember learning how to comb your hair?

(Now in your mother’s memory send up a prayer)