Sunday, June 13, 2021

On the Unlocking of Words - as a newspaper column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

On the Unlocking of Words

 

Their leader answered him, Beowulf unlocking 

Words from deep in his breast:  "We are Geats…”

 

-Beowulf to the Danish Coast Watcher

 

One does not imagine President Roosevelt, on the 8th of December in 1941, skipping his appearance before Congress and, wearing knee pants, a slogan tee, and some tats and piercings while blocking Pennsylvania Avenue and chanting, “Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Hirohito has got to go!”

 

In his four-minute speech to Congress, President Roosevelt eloquently stated the facts of Japan’s simultaneous aggressions against American and British territories throughout the far east, and then simply asked Congress for a declaration of war. He did not talk about himself or his mood or his feelings; he addressed the topic. More than that, he addressed the topic with words that, because of their simplicity, were powerful.

 

The art of oratory is little studied now, and so speeches are seldom about stating the facts and coming to a conclusion, but rather a matter of posturing and yelling and chanting.

 

The ultimate failure to persuade is in the use of a bullhorn. When a speaker at a rally or protest lifts up a bullhorn instead of his heart, he has demonstrated that he has nothing to say that will appeal to the intelligence of his hearers, and is now going to make loud noises as camouflage for his inadequacies.

 

Good speakers study the great ones, and learn from them: primary and secondary epics, Shakespeare’s speeches, especially in Julius Caesar, Macbeth, and Henry V, Macaulay’s Lays of Ancient Rome, Prime Minister Churchill, President Roosevelt, President Kennedy, Reverend King, and President Reagan.

 

In Beowulf, for example, our hero is confronted by a Danish coast watcher who says, in the strong cadence of the four-beat Old English line:

 

“…You! Tell me your name, 

And your father's; no spies go further onto 

Danish Soil than you've come already. Strangers, 

From wherever it was you sailed, tell it, 

And tell it quickly, the quicker the better, 

I say, for us all. Speak, say 

Exactly who you are, and from where, and why.”

 

Beowulf responds:

 

Their leader answered him, Beowulf unlocking 

Words from deep in his breast:  "We are Geats…

…And we have come seeking 

Your prince, Healfdane's son, protector 

Of this people, only in friendship: instruct us, 

Watchman, help us with your words! Our errand 

Is a great one, our business with the glorious king

Of the Danes no secret…”

 

After more of this polite but firm back-and-forth, the coast watcher says,

 

"A soldier should know the difference between words 

And deeds, and keep that knowledge clear 

In his brain. I believe your words, I trust in 

Your friendship. Go forward, weapons and armor

And all, on into Denmark. I'll guide you…”

 

(Beowulf- Burton Raffel - Google Docs)

 

We hear little such good, plain, meaningful language these days, either in our streets or in those famous halls of power or in the unfortunate presentations that constitute popular culture just now. Instead we the people are often subjected to shouting, screaming, chanting, and unfocused babbling that seems to echo from, in Milton’s poetic re-naming of (Newark, New Jersey), Pandaemonium.

 

The good use of language is important. We need to hear each other, not yelp at each other. And keep it short. There are many variants of this old wheeze: An effective speaker must be focused, be clear, be respectful, and be seated.

 

Let us, like Beowulf, unlock from our hearts good words as a form of respect for each other.

 

-30-

 

On the Unlocking of Words - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

On the Unlocking of Words

 

Their leader answered him, Beowulf unlocking 

Words from deep in his breast:  "We are Geats…”

 

-Beowulf to the Danish Coast Watcher

 

In bold and sturdy four-beat lines

Beowulf keeps his knowledge clear

With kennings well-crafted and careful caesurae

And never needing to raise his voice

 

But thus the Grendel-voice responds:

 

“Woo woo that’s just my person opinion that’s what I’m talking about follow your passion learn to code no offense, but wtf oh my God oh my God woo woo hey hey ho ho something-something has got to go woo woo only dead fish go with the flow tear it down shut it down burn it down woo woo lock her up there is no I in team woo woo not my president it’s not rocket science it is what it is woo woo say it loud say it clear this is what something looks like woo woo is there an app for that woo woo that’s what I’m saying woo woo…”

 

But you - be brave like Beowulf, and boldly dare

To unlock your words with creativity and care

Saturday, June 12, 2021

Little Corpses Everywhere - poem

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Little Corpses Everywhere


Woman kept child’s corpse in a plastic storage tote

 

-CNN

 

Little corpses decaying in storage totes

Little corpses by the hundreds in unmarked graves

Little corpses by the abortuary thousands

In bags neatly labeled “Medical Waste”

 

Little corpses with shrivelled meth-tainted lungs

Little corpses dropped discreetly in the creek

Little corpses all chopped and dropped and flushed

So that graduation night won’t be ruined

 

Little corpses in factories, mere skin and bones

Their agonies haunting our new smart phones

Friday, June 11, 2021

Left in a Package Locker - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Left in a Package Locker

 

“Left in a package locker” – that probably means

That someone left it at the post office in town

Because the private deliveries sometimes say

They can’t find our house, except when they do

 

It worked out well enough for Paddington Bear

But our depot was torn down years ago

And freight trains thunder by without a stop

Without regard for packages or bears

 

And so

 

We’ll drive to town next week to see if there

Is waiting for us, properly tagged, a little bear

Thursday, June 10, 2021

A Faraday Cage of the Mind - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Faraday Cage of the Mind

 

The dwarfs are for the dwarfs

 

-C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle

 

They wire themselves into a Faraday cage

As they make ossification great again

Raising their hands not in salutes but in fists

Their voices not in hymns but in foul hate

 

They wire themselves into a Faraday cage

Hug to themselves a past that never was

And circulate deception among themselves

In closed incestuous loops of rumors and chants

 

They wire themselves into a Faraday cage

So that a genuine thought will never penetrate

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Tuesday, June 8, 2021

A Codicil to Sonnet 116 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Codicil to Sonnet 116

 

When shy young lovers flirt with each other

Make eyes across a parent-haunted room

Hold hands in the magnolia-scented night

And kiss for the first…oh, that very first kiss!

 

Do they anticipate petitionings

Investigations and bitter whisperings

Restraining orders, arrearages, fail nots

Decrees more absolute than youthful vows?

 

As old Shakespeare was never wont to say

Love is not love when arbitration binds

Sunday, June 6, 2021

The 7th of June, 1944 and 1970 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The 7th of June, 1944 and 1970

 

My father beached at Normandy on the second day

(He was okay with having missed the first)

From there through France to Belgium in the mud

For a bloody Christmas in the icy Bulge

 

Munich, Buchenwald, Dachau, Zwickau

For me DaNang, Saigon, Ben Luc, Moc Hoa

I met a child in a Japanese army cap

But he wouldn’t sell it. We all have history

 

I wish I had that Japanese army cap

And that we knew what any of this means

What Would Ol' Doc Adams Do? - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

What Would Ol’ Doc Adams Do?

 

“That’s right: Get a shot, have a beer”

 

-The President of the United States

 

Okay, I had the CV, and later on the two jabs, and as a condition of service as  a volunteer have the swab run up my nose and out through my skull every week. I’m good. The CV was not my choice, but the jabs and the swabs were, and I am reasonably sure they were the right choices based on the first-hand recommendations of real people with real medical qualifications.

 

Dr. InterNet does not have a voice in my health choices. Nor does someone’s third-cousin who almost finished nurses’ aide school. Nor does a purported doctor whose medical school’s name ends with “.com.” 

 

However, my president feels that I and you are merely The Little People, simpletons who must be coaxed with treats in order to do what he thinks is good for us. He and Anheuser-Busch, a Belgian multi-national, have colluded in offering each American a $5 gift certificate, good only for Anheuser-Busch products, if we will take our medicine like good little girls and boys.

 

When I was a rug-rat Dr. Moore always gave me a lollipop after I had a jab, assuring me, despite my screaming and crying and attempts at escape, that I was a good, brave boy.  My Aunt Lola, Dr. Moore’s RN, would probably have given me a spanking for my nonsense; she was made of sterner stuff.

 

We don’t get lollipops now. We’re adults. We make adult choices without being offered shiny things.

 

In Florida they might offer you a cryptobeer. You can’t see it, taste it, or touch it, but trust us, it’s real.

 

Maybe $20 of glass beads would work as well.

 

Other authorities offer raffle tickets, and there’s nothing that says responsible medical care like raffle tickets.

 

Maybe the governor of Texas will offer a drawing for an AR to swagger around with, only I’ll bet you can’t swagger into his house or workplace with one.

 

Was Hunter Biden given a new laptop for his jab?

 

Did the two Trump boys receive new hunting rifles?

 

But in the end (actually, they give you the jab in the arm, not the end), the one serious matter is this:  should you take the jab? That’s not my call, but neither is it Dr. InterNet’s. My one recommendation is that you should visit face-to-face with a nurse-practitioner or medical doctor, speak your concerns, and then listen. Listen. And then you must make an adult choice for yourself.

 

 

Free beer? Anheuser-Busch will buy you a round if America reaches Biden's July 4 vaccination goal - CBS News

 

How to Get Free Beer if U.S. Vaccine Goal Is Reached (newsweek.com)

 

Free beer, other new incentives for Biden's 'vaccine sprint' - ABC News (go.com)

 

Budweiser (forbes.com)

 

-30-

 

Like Candles When They Quietly Go Out - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Like Candles When They Quietly Go Out

 

He mourns the sons of princes, sown in the dust

 

-The Seafarer

 

When we were young

A friend once showed me a passage in a book

In which the monks of a certain cloistered order

Were often blessed with wonderfully peaceful deaths

Like candles when they quietly go out

 

Domine exaudi orationem meam

 

Now we are old

Our books require a rather larger print

Our foolish dreams were put by long ago

And the works of our youth are memories

Like candles when they quietly go out

 

Domine exaudi orationem meam

 

And we are candles

Still giving out a little bit of light

Anticipating with hope the morning Sun

 

Domine exaudi orationem meam

Saturday, June 5, 2021

The Vocabulary of the Comments Section - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Vocabulary of the Comments Section

 

...he held the proper opinions for the time of year

 

-Auden, "The Unknown Citizen"

 

No words

Just no words

I have no words

Beyond I have no words

Absolutely beyond I have no words

Absolutely beyond I have no words fact

Absolutely beyond I have no words fact end of

Absolutely beyond I have no words fact end of literally

Absolutely beyond I have no words fact end of literally actually

No words

Friday, June 4, 2021

A Poetry Brawl Down at the Long Branch Saloon - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Poetry Brawl Down at the Long Branch Saloon

 

I wrestled with a line of blank verse until

It fell, all writhing on the floor, and there

It gasped for breath and glared at me with hate

Each syllable grating against another

 

“You have a sorry accent,” it snarled

“And when my rhythm rises I will make you

A dactyl fallen or a trochee tripped

With my booted and spurred iambic feet!”

 

But we shook hands, and let our quarrel cease

And so at Miss Kitty’s there was

Syllabic accentuation at peace

Thursday, June 3, 2021

An Instruction in the Virtue of Patience for New Teachers - rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Instruction in the Virtue of Patience for New Teachers

 

This truth in teaching children must be told:

A high school boy’s eyes are perpetually rolled

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

A Tribute to Gussie Fink-Nottle - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Tribute to Gussie Fink-Nottle

 

From an idea suggested by W. K. Kortas

 

Now be ye all upstanding, and charge your drinks

And let us lift a glass of orange juice

To all inebriated newt fanciers

(And God bless Market Snodsbury Grammar School)

 

And of all inebriated new fanciers

None is fancier than Gussie Fink-Nottle

None better with the newts, none worse with the girls

(And God bless Market Snodsbury Grammar School)

 

God bless the newts in Trafalgar fountain and pool

(And God bless Market Snodsbury Grammar School)

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

Death at 0200 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Death at 0200

 

Graduation shouldn’t be marked with casualty lists

Commencement’s happiness blighted by dawn

The quotes from Frost and Lincoln ashes and smoke

“Go forth!” now cancelled by “services pending”

 

Graduation shouldn’t be marked by casualty lists

A seat in university taken by another

A summer wedding that will never take place

A name not on the roll at recruit training

 

Graduation shouldn’t be marked by casualty lists

Of lives ended in the springtime of youth

Monday, May 31, 2021

Memorial Day 2021

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Memorial Day 2021

 

Memorial Day is when we remember our friends

As they were before their fragments were dusted off

While we were watching still the perimeter

 

Memorial Day is when patriotic men

Who only went to war in a John Wayne film

Preach sacrifice on the five o’clock local

 

Before Marshal Dillon - a cheesy rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Before Marshal Dillon

 

There was

 

The Thing from Another World

 

Hear of this early role if you can bear it:

James Arness as a giant carnivorous carrot

Sunday, May 30, 2021

When Your Norelco Goes Rogue - not the stupidest thing I ever wrote, but close

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

When Your Norelco Goes Rogue

 

Intrusive and dangerous technology has come a long way since Maxwell Smart’s shoe phone.

 

A number of InterGossip sites, none of them reliable, have reported that drones in the Libyan civil wars are now targeting humans on their own artificial intelligence initiative.

 

This might not be any more true than the rumor that the polio vaccine programs your DNA to play reruns of Gillian’s Island – the Lost Episodes in your mind until you finally break and give up your files on the albino chipmunks lurking in the old World War II tunnels beneath the White House where Benito Mussolini is being held in captivity.

 

Still, when your coffee maker cries, “Clap hands if you believe in digital currency!” while brewing your morning cuppa you can only wonder about the nature of reality in a world increasingly operated by computer chips.

 

And speaking of chips, watch out for the ruffled ones; they take their secret orders from the Ballet Rousse (hence the ruffles).

 

As early as 1970 the concept that a computer could take over the world was filmed as Colossus: the Forbin Project.  No one considered the possibility that the evil A.I. Colossus might be an electric toothbrush conspiring with a wristwatch.

 

The idea that a device with artificial intelligence might choose to attack a human is frightening – your electric razor might one day decide to cut off your head in the name of the technological revolution while singing, “Arise ye rotary blades of the fatherland…”

 

And don’t get me started on the destructive power, equal to a thousand kilo-klumps of TNT, hidden in your Sergeant Preston of the Yukon decoder ring that you thought was a mere cereal box toy.

 

Remember that Sergeant Preston was an enemy alien, a sneaky Canadian whose loyalties were with the Queen, the nefarious British Empire, Molson’s, and The Dark Side of Niagara Falls.

 

That show was a wicked plot by the Anglo-Canadians. Upon a secret bark from Yukon King-the-Wonder-Dog all the American children who had been swayed by the Hollywood-Ottawa axis were to break out their instructions, cleverly disguised as maps of the Yukon, and with their powerful decoder rings overwhelm Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, and Hopalong Cassidy and surrender the western United States to the oppressive foreign power of Saskatchewan.

 

Yes, my fellow Americans, because of intrusive Canadian technology we came this close to having a Tim Horton’s on every corner of every highway and byway of this great land, with robotic Timbits watching our every move.

 

The danger from A.I. continues.

 

In The Thing from Another World, featuring James Arness as a carnivorous alien carrot, the thesis is, “Keep watching the skies!”  But maybe we had better be watching our indoor-outdoor thermometers instead. They’re powered by secret Russian chips. They’re up to something. I just know it. I heard it on Maxwell Smart’s shoe phone.

 

-30-

The End-of-Term School Literary Magazine - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The End-of-Term School Literary Magazine

 

She wrote that her poem had been inspired

By the Holy spirit, Who spoke to her

And guided then her hand upon the page

In a competition for Most Original Work

 

But the reflective reader cannot imagine

That the Third Person of the Trinity

Writes in free verse and says “Cerulean”

And splits infinitives in bludgeoned rhymes

 

In metaphors borrowed and rather tired

She wrote that her poem had been inspired

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Peter Pan in Bowring Park - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Peter Pan in Bowring Park

 

For Dan, who knows something of magic

 

“Do you want an adventure now, or would like to have your tea first?”

 

-Peter Pan

 

Sweet little bunnies browse and squirrels climb

And tiny mice and fairies give delight

To all the little ones of Newfoundland

Who visit Peter Pan in Bowring Park

 

He plays his pipes for them, and they can hear

The joyful music of his magic world

Where they may celebrate their pixie-dreams

At this bright second star from Kensington

 

And sing in peace their happy morning hymn

For darling little Betty, who waits for them

 

 

...the history behind Bowring Park's Peter Pan statue? — Historic Sites Association of Newfoundland & Labrador

Friday, May 28, 2021

The '57 Chevy in the Woods - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The ’57 Chevy in the Woods

 

The shell of a Chevy rusted in the woods

Almost lost in the blackberry bushes

All of its windows broken, the front bashed in

Pale creepers writhing in and out and down

 

A rich man gave his son this car, they said

The boy wrecked out and died at hot rod speed

His daddy had the car towed into the weeds

Not knowing what else to do in his despair

 

We carelessly flung pine cones at the corpse

Then in our shame slunk quietly away

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Bismarck and Hood - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Bismarck and Hood

 

Pocket knives, love letters, rosaries, wrenches

Pictures of ski trips, girlfriends, wives, and mums

Notebooks, youthful attempts at poetry

Toothbrushes, naughty pictures, candy from home

 

Lockers of toilet paper and light bulbs

Study guide outlines for promotion exams

Spit-shined shoes, the smoking lantern is out

Now battle lanterns and battle stations

 

Death-screamings through the ventilator exhaust

From thousands of teenaged boys forever lost

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Ellis Island, Ellis Island, Ellis Island - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ellis Island, Ellis Island, Ellis Island

 

Oh, don’t bother us with Ellis Island

Some of our DNA were fishing from the sand bar

When our other DNA came paddling up the creek

With flags and guns and swords and bibles and stuff

 

We were killing each other in the woods

Before you lot ever got off the boat

And landed on the wharves that we had built

(When we weren’t killing each other)

 

And still everything is a mess, that’s true -

But now that we’re all here, what will we do?

Tuesday, May 25, 2021

That Commie Covert Covid Microchip - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

That Commie Covert Covid Microchip

 

My vaccination card is all complete

Two jabs for the immunity herd, so I’ve heard

And don’t believe that stuff about the chip

The microchip ratting us to the F.B.I.

 

No, not the F.B.I., nor the C.I.A.

Nor the jolly folk at the N.S.A. -

My microchip speaks to me in Russian

And I don’t understand Russian, so it’s okay

 

Thus not a careless word will ever pass my lip

About my commie covert covid microchip

Monday, May 24, 2021

When Abstract Concepts are Seen Floating By - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When Abstract Concepts are Seen Floating By

 

When abstract concepts are seen floating by

The situation might require new thoughts

Assembled with worn-out hypotheses

Through this twisting night of long butter knives

 

Abstracts are comfortable in their discomfort

Begging one’s soul for logic and spare change

But also willing to go away unanswered

And quite at peace in having disturbed yours

 

When abstract concepts are seen floating by

Better just turn over and get back to sleep

Sunday, May 23, 2021

First Responders: Gifts of Service - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

First Responders: Gifts of Service

 

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools

 

-Kipling, “If”

 

Finding a police car parked in front of our country estate along Beer Can Road and County Dump Extension one morning was a surprise. Usually there are only a few rabbits inviting the hawks to breakfast, a tire-flattened possum or two, and the jewel-like glint of fresh beer cans in the morning sun.  We later learned that there was a search on for someone who had been called into court and had not responded appropriately. In the event, we learned that there was more than that. The following interruption to the neighborhood’s rural tranquility lasted some 24 hours.

 

When the Metternichian state of repose is disrupted by fire, flood, false ideologies, or criminal behavior, the causation of a moment can require a prolonged and patient rebuilding of civilization, even when that is on a local level.

 

This resolution requires the prolonged endeavors of skilled men and women of energy, professionalism, and a sense of mission.

 

This day-night-day event required, to the best of my limited knowledge, game wardens, medics, state police, city police, sheriffs and deputies from two counties, police vehicles, police foot patrols, horsemen, search dogs and their handlers, rescue vehicles, helicopters, drones, base establishments in two counties, stand-by service by fire departments and others, and gallons of coffee.

 

In an aside let us note here that our area sheriffs and other law enforcement leaders never appear on teevee wearing tailored golly-gee-whiz pressed uniforms with brass buttons and shiny ornaments and a bunch of stars on their collars as if they were fleet admirals in The Glorious and Majestic All-Powerful and Ever-Victorious Ruritanian Navy.  A proper copper just can’t swan around in all that sartorial nonsense while chasing a meth-cooker through the woods or sorting out a drunken brawl or waiting out a crisis for 24 hours or comforting a weeping mom because her child’s not going to come home.

 

And now I will get back on task:

 

Many of our first responders are volunteers, and so in addition to their support-the-family jobs they also serve the community on their own time and often at their own expense.

 

We need them.

 

Civilization, grounded on thousands of years of human endeavor and faith and culture, celebrated in music, art, literature, and healthy sport, is at times a rickety structure that requires our constant watch and maintenance. When even a few among us fail to do our part, the failure makes a big mess for others to take care of.

 

Genesis is clear that we all fall short, and the New Testament is equally clear that there is hope but that we must participate in that hope. Passivity just won’t do.

 

Kipling reminds us of that in “If,” that marvelous sequence of dependent clauses just as in the Texas Declaration of Independence, reminding us of our failings and our mission. And if we sometimes feel that we are the “worn-out tools,” well, maybe we are, but we still have to do our part for the safety and security of our neighbors and ourselves.

 

Some among us, our first responders in all the services, are especially good at building up again broken things and broken lives. They truly “…fill the unforgiving minute / With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,” and we must always remember that.

 

-30-

 

 

 

 

A Fugitive in His Haunted Night - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Fugitive in His Haunted Night

 

A police car parked in front of the house

They say there’s a fugitive in the woods

Bailed out of his truck on a county road

Abandoning his girlfriend to be nabbed

 

Well, poor man, he’s lost his truck and his girl

And gained mosquitoes, snakes, coyotes, heat

A fading MePhone signal, rain, rot, mud

And another three years in a white cotton suit

 

Why?

 

Perhaps, like many another poor soul

He lost his way while searching for elusive Truth

Saturday, May 22, 2021

Art 101 and 102 for Dudes in Costume Hats - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Art 101 and 102 for Dudes in Costume Hats

 

For 1971’s Beret Art Dude

 

When paint can mean anything you want it to mean

Then it has no meaning

                                      and neither do you

 

 

For 2021’s Baseball Cap Art Dude

 

When you paint ideological commands

You’re just obeying

                               your master’s orders

Friday, May 21, 2021

The InterGossip has Winked Out, and Now Life Has No Meaning - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The InterGossip has Winked Out, and Now Life Has No Meaning

 

The InterGossip is out, and so I quest

Among little plastic boxes that light up

As a coded series of spiky blue lamps

That might be signaling to other worlds

 

Cutting the power in turn to all the parts

Poking the innards with a paper clip

Like an archaeologist digging for truth

For the Ark of the Contract, or for the Grail

 

The InterGossip is found, and so I rest

In electric repose in this fallen screen

Thursday, May 20, 2021

You'll Have to Bring Your Own Shovel - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

You’ll Have to Bring Your Own Shovel

 

The rising waters are not baptismal

Sandbags are available at the precinct barn

And presumably sand; you’ll have to bring

Your own shovel, though, and your own muscles

 

They say we don’t need our masks anymore

We could sew them into little sandbags

And use them protect a child’s dollhouse

Against the rising storms of adolescence

 

Then at bedtime read a book to the child:

Goodnight, Storms from the Gulf of Mexico

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

But She's not my Wife - not a Spenserian amoretti moment

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

But She’s not my Wife

 

Most nights I go to bed with Agatha Christie

My wife and dog are quite okay with that

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

The Utility Pole at the End of the Rainbow - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Utility Pole at the End of the Rainbow

 

Rain, dreary rain all day, falling in sheets

(Or maybe in comforters and counterpanes)

The whole world shakes to the thunder’s wild beats

And water ponds in the green fields and lanes

 

But then at dusk the clouds part just right

Allowing the sun to make the sky fire-red

And in the east, a rainbow all alight

But behind a utility pole (it must be said)

 

The convention is gold at a rainbow’s end

But electricity too is a useful friend

Monday, May 17, 2021

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Graduation Speech Soup

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Graduation Speech Soup – Simply Stir and Serve

 

Have you noticed that despite all speakers’ efforts, graduation speeches sound very much alike?

 

“Keep the torch alive to pass to a new generation with the key that unlocks the road to the future follow your passion the unemployment will follow woo-hoo we’ve been through some amazing times together make a difference to thine own self be true woo-hoo commencement means a beginning not an ending woo-hoo as we go forth life is a journey not a destination we made it all the hard work we’ve put forth to this point in time these are the best time in our lives as one door closes another door opens because a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step to make the world a better place trust your instincts you don’t find education in books we are the future bright with promise some see the future and ask why but we see the future and ask why not Habakkuk 2:7 woo-hoo we did it I can’t believe we’re here believe in yourself live your dreams to be all that you can be God has a plan for you woo-hoo we have the responsibility to build a new world if opportunity doesn’t know build a door don’t follow the path blaze a trail because there is no one like you because you are an individual just like those other hundred or so people your age and all dressed just alike because life is what happens while you’re making plans woo-hoo live, laugh, love you have to look through the rain to see the rainbow dance like nobody’s looking (even though they are, and they’re laughing at you) aim for the moon and if you miss you’ll hit the moon (or something) life is not waiting for the storm to pass it’s about dancing in the rain because you are a new generation called to miss 100% of the shots you don’t take because we were all one big family who have lived, laughed, and loved together hey and remember the time (name) barfed on the stairs we’ll all that that shared moment to remember together woo-hoo we can’t save all the starfish but I can make a difference for this one because as a great man Robert Frost said in “The Road Not Taken” we can make a difference for all the starfish in the sea of life woo-hoo today is the first day of your rest of your life oh, the places you’ll go like maybe eternal stasis in front of a MePhone I don’t know why they asked me to be the speaker shout-out to Mom wear sunscreen because your future’s so bright close your eyes and remember when hey, an air horn, that’s so cool, no one’s ever done that before woo-hoo I want to congratulate each and every one of you on your incredible talents and abilities as you begin your journey to a bright and shining future because we are the best class (name of school and a shout-out to the mascot) has ever graduated (since last year) woo-hoo a dream is a wish your heart makes and you can become anything you dream to be or wish to be or something #lifehack #hashtag now go forth and make your lives exceptional woo-hoo although on Monday morning we’ll wake up and realize we’re just more unemployed Americans.”

 

But now, as John Milton would suggest, this “tedious song should here have ending,” and it is time to wish much happiness to all of you always.

 

-30-

For Training Purposes this Life May be Monitored - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

For Training Purposes this Life May be Monitored

 

An examination of conscience is good

Thinking about things at the end of each day

Hail Marys mixed in with exasperation

Rough words that should never have been spoken

 

Reading casual cruelties on the InterGossip

Whatever God’s plan might be, that wasn’t it

Gratitude for work, gratitude for meals

Gratitude for peace at the end of the day

 

And as for the occasional bitter cup

Your Mother taught you right: offer it up

Saturday, May 15, 2021

A Metternichian State of Repose - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Metternichian State of Repose

in a Concert of Leaves and Light

 

Up before dawn and out among the quiet

Concelebrating with God the leafy light

That falls as blessing upon the lawn’s soft turns

From grey to gold to green to springing life

 

And then from meditation to liturgy

The Opus Dei of Saturday mornings

With rake and shovel and fire against the litter

That shoals into corners and along the fence

 

The feeblest remembrance of God’s mighty hand

Shaping chaos into order and meaning

Friday, May 14, 2021

A Student Walkout with Hissy-Chants - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Student Walkout with Hissy-Chants

 

But

 

I heard of one student who refused to go

Who bravely thought for herself, and so said no

And she’s the one student I want to know