Sunday, January 16, 2022

Rubik's Cubicle - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Rubik’s Cubicle

 

When a problem is solved, another spins ‘round

When that problem is solved, two others spin back

When those problems are solved, chaos begins

Everything depends on everything else

 

When a date is set, another unsets

When that date is set, two others get lot

When those dates are found, chaos begins

Everyone depends on everyone else

 

A wise man learns that chaos begins

When the Rubik’s cube of life backspins

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Butch and Sundance: The Latest Remake - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Butch and Sundance: The Latest Remake

 

Union Pacific: Train Robberies Up 356%...

-News Item

 

Narrator, old cowboy geezer sitting on the porch and smoking his pipe:

 

Well, now, Butch and Sundance (I’ll tell you no lies)

Stop the U.P. right in its trackages

And glaring at the passengers one of ‘em cries:

“All y’all hand over yer Amazon packages!”

 

Union Pacific: Train Robberies Up 356% Due To LA County DA George Gascón's No-Cash Bail Policy – KCAL9 and CBS2 News, Sports, and Weather (cbslocal.com)

Friday, January 14, 2022

Aspirin as One of the Basic Food Groups - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Aspirin as One of the Basic Food Groups

 

An inhaler for each wheezery lung

Aspirin for the pain that has gone to my head

Gargle for the gunk that’s coating my tongue

Green slime by the cup when I go to bed

 

Whatever it’s all from – dust, must, or mold

I just wanna be rid of this miserable cold!

Thursday, January 13, 2022

A Little Lady Smoking a Big Cigar - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Little Lady Smoking a Big Cigar


In the drive-through line at Jenny’s Fried Chicken 


Middle-aged, petite, wearing a pixie-cut

Dangly earrings and old blue overalls

And a frown on her face, she left her car

And walked around it disapprovingly

 

Her inspection complete, she stepped back in

But she still wasn’t happy with the world

Given the defiant angle of her cigar

A thrust against all importunities

 

Her smoke was a warning to all: you’d best keep clear

And I don’t know why (I didn’t dare ask)

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

An Electric Light Bulb - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Electric Light Bulb

 

An electric light bulb is a marvelous thing

A globe of glass and gas and wires within

You can almost hear the filaments sing

When light upon a page lets your reading begin

 

By what magic does this wonderful device

Receive invisible aethers from long wires

This strange glowing pearl beyond any price

As it relights from Sol its little fires

 

An electric light bulb is a poet’s delight

Framing pentameter all through the night

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Even So, Someone's Got to Milk the Cows - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Even So, Someone’s Got to Milk the Cows

 

U.S. Covid-19 Cases Set to Triple Pre-Omicron Record

 

-Wall Street Journal, 10 January 2022

 

The pharmacies have no more Covid tests

The supermarkets no paper for the loo

The people feel that masks and jabs are jests

The government replays each Fauci-boo-boo

 

The Qanons tell us it’s just the ‘flu

The sheeple, they say, are easily led

Others that horse paste is the thing to do

The hospitals haven’t another bed

 

The cynics assure us we have nothing to dread

But some use their stimulus checks to bury their dead

Monday, January 10, 2022

Looking Back on the Day - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Looking Back on the Day

 

Looking back on the day – did I give thanks?

I lazed over my coffee and the morning news

Noted the crows and the morning’s light frost

But that’s not good enough

 

I washed the dishes and a load of clothes

Looked into a novel and a poetry book

Sorted laundry and fed the squirrels and birds

And that’s not good enough

 

One give thanks for another day of life

By making that day what it should be

Sunday, January 9, 2022

Covid Memory Gaps, Weekly Column 9 January 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Covid Memory Gaps

 

A child in the second grade who has built himself (the pronoun is gender-neutral) a good vocabulary, reads little chapter books, is more adept than his parents at working all those little electronic boxes that light up and make noises, is making the first rudimentary efforts at team and solo sports, doesn’t have to be reminded to feed the dog, and can tell you why Randolph Scott is far cooler than Buzz Lightyear might be missing this part of his development: he doesn’t remember a time when there weren’t face masks and nervous and sometimes angry discussions about Covid, immunizations, symptoms, isolation, and what’s not available at the grocery store this week.

 

And yet, fifty years from now he might not remember the Covid at all.

 

Does anyone remember the Hong Kong ‘flu of 1968-1970? Some 100,000 Americans died from it and perhaps 1,000,000 worldwide  [1968 Pandemic (H3N2 virus) | Pandemic Influenza (Flu) | CDC] yet it is now forgotten. A child who was seven in 1972 is now 58, and the Hong Kong ‘flu doesn’t exist for him.

 

Despite books and films and archives of source materials, history sometimes disappears, often by accident.

 

When I’m wheezin’ on the treadmill I make the dullness of exercise go better by watching DVDs of The Bob Newhart Show, Gilligan’s Island, The Prisoner, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and other oldies, all products of the era and all without any mention of Viet-Nam, Laos, Cambodia, freedom marches, or the Civil Rights Act – to young moderns these things simply don’t exist.

 

In The Bob Newhart Show Bob makes a few oblique references to being in the Army during the Korean war but otherwise Korea, too, is invisible in pop culture.

 

Certainly the news of the era can be found by digging through the InterGossip, but the reality is that a child or adult finds Hogan’s Heroes more interesting and more available than The Mills of the Gods (1967, The Anderson Platoon (1967), Winter Soldier (1972), Hearts and Minds (1974), and others.

 

News broadcasts and documentaries from the 1960s and 1970s are not censored by that mythological Deep State (shudder); they are freely available. They are also freely ignored.

 

Last year a few fictional television series made some effort to be timely by having the characters in masks, but this was only briefly. When in fifty years a new generation watches old episodes of N.C.I.S., L. A. Law, Hawaii 5.0, or anything else in production now they won’t see masks or be aware of anything Covid.

 

This is not some sort of plot or conspiracy; it’s just that guns and explosions make more interesting television than face masks and nasal swabs, even when a disease such as the Hong Kong ‘flu kills more people than some wars.

 

As for our seven-year-old, someday he will be free not simply of masks but of hearing about masks. We can hope, however, that he will not forget the challenges of some of his formative years. Vaccinations for this and that in this nation date back as far as the war against England [How Crude Smallpox Inoculations Helped George Washington Win the War - HISTORY] and will continue, but I look forward to making a bonfire of the masks.

 

Nota Bene – I am the only man in America who doesn’t know a thing about the Covid.

 

-30-

 

 

No, Mr. Sandburg - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

No, Mr. Sandburg

                                       Fog as Experienced by a Farm Boy

The fog doesn’t come on little cat feet

It stinks and slinks across the fields

Maybe Grendel creeps within it -

He wants to eat us before dawn

Saturday, January 8, 2022

The Great Canadian Dairy / Diary Dispute of 2022 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Great Canadian Dairy / Diary Dispute of 2022

 

"Canada must now do the right thing and come into full compliance with its obligations on diary [sic].”

 

Brady: Canadian Dairy Dispute Settlement Achieved Thanks to USMCA’s Improved Enforcement | U.S. House of Representatives

 

How many nights have Americans lost sleep

Through fear and righteous anger that in the darkness

An illegal liter of perfidious Canadian milk

Might sneak across the 49th Parallel

 

The lights burn late in the Pentagon tonight

While border guards watch the wicked north

Lest a stick of malicious Canadian butter

Attempt to overthrow our Constitution

 

We watch all our borders constantly now

Against Canadians hiding in a Trojan cow

Friday, January 7, 2022

I Have No Words - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

I Have No Words

 

The commentator

Says she has no words, and so

She writes a paragraph

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Anticipating a Root Canal Tomorrow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Anticipating a Root Canal Tomorrow

 

Sometimes you don’t need anesthetics to be goofy -

Anticipating a trip to the dentist will do

To confuse today’s plans into nothingness

And scatter all focus from a favorite book

 

People have such dentistry every day

You tell yourself, only your self is not listening

Should I go to bed early, or get up late

What will it be like in The Chair tomorrow?

 

A sigh, a whisper, a desperate wheeze –

Just a little more nitrous oxide, please!

A Snow Globe and a Discarded Child - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Snow Globe and a Discarded Child

 

A dreaming child peers into a little glass dome

Where snow falls upon a tiny world:

A mountain, a forest, a tunnel, a village, a train

A kingdom where there is safety and love

 

He cradles it in his hand lest it be lost

Among the emotional wreckage of lying adults

Cold pizza, unexplained screams from the other room

300 channels of satellite tv

 

A beaten child peers into that magic dome

And wishes that somehow it might be his home

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Overserved - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Overserved

 

New Year’s Eve 2021

 

Oh, TV guy, we most clearly observed

That in your speech you swiveled and swerved

But in the dawn’s clear light you’re now unnerved

An apology, yes, that’s well deserved

But please don’t tell us you were overserved

Monday, January 3, 2022

On my 74th Birthday - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

On my 74th Birthday

 

The eternal magic of eternal things
sends the dreamer out into the world

 

         -Rod McKuen, “January 2”

 

I didn’t mean to be 74

That wasn’t part of my master plan

To be young forever, cooler each year

But suddenly I’ve become invisible

 

Once upon a time and long ago

I drove my old MG to California

A sleeping bag, a few books, a few poems

A portable typewriter, some portable dreams

 

I remember breaking down in Tucson

But best of all, I remember the dreams

Sunday, January 2, 2022

Statues and Time Capsules - weekly column, 2 January 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Statues and Time Capsules

 

          “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . 

 

-Shelley, “Ozymandias”

 

The past few years have witnessed a purge of statues, which while ahistorical in an immediate sense is historical in another: as cultures rise they raise statues to themselves, and as they decline the statues are destroyed or recycled by a new rising culture.  In their turn, those statues too are eventually destroyed by yet another rising power.

 

But it’s all neatly told in Shelley’s clear and cautionary “Ozymandias.”

 

A statue almost never tells us much about history as it was lived, but rather as the mythology held by whoever had the power to tax people to set it up.

 

Movies are much the same. Gettysburg is a fine movie with great staging (except for the fake beards) and a great musical score, but, gosh, all those fat Confederates don’t match the reality of a time when no one had enough to eat.

 

The soundtrack to Sam Peckinpah’s chaotic Major Dundee sounds like a bunch of drugged-out hippies turned loose with tin pans and car parts, communicating nothing about the Civil War in the American Southwest; the racket reveals only that the film was made in the 1960s.

 

An irony about all the Confederate statues coming down is that they were bought mostly from northern businessmen. Those of well-known figures, such as Lee and Jackson, were specialty items, but the famous “standing soldier” who, well, stands on the courthouse squares of many southern towns also stands on the courthouse squares of many northern towns. They were mass-produced, and a USA belt buckle or a CSA belt buckle and a hat change made a grey stone or zinc statue either an American soldier or a Confederate soldier, whichever way a town council wanted it.

 

Confederate, Union Soldier Statues Look the Same. Here's Why | Time

 

Why those Confederate soldier statues look a lot like their Union counterparts - The Washington Post

 

I suppose now they’d come from Shanghai.

 

Indeed, the likeness of Martin Luther King on the national mall was made in China. There was some controversy about that because apparently no American artists, quarries, or stonemasons were permitted to bid on it.

 

MLK Memorial: From China, with love? - CSMonitor.com

 

I don’t know if there is a time capsule somewhere within it.

 

If someone were to raise a statue to you some day, what items would you like to see included in its time capsule?

 

These things needn’t be especially durable because in a century or two someone’s going to knock your statue down too.

 

                                 …boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

 

-“Ozymandias”

 

-30-

 

 

A Time Capsule for our Noblest Soldier - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Time Capsule for our Noblest Soldier

 

“In war I do not like to take sides”

 

-Sergeant Schultz

 

If there must be time capsules buried beneath

Statues of bold men wearing uniforms

As a remembrance of man’s noblest ideals

Let us have one for dear ol’ Sergeant Schultz

 

A recipe for Hans' apple strudel

A bottle of his favorite Pilsner beer

A Cuban cigar from Colonel Klink’s stash

And a menu from the Hofbrau House

 

But especially the strudel

 

If we must honor soldiers, as some assert

Then let us include their favorite dessert

Saturday, January 1, 2022

We'll Write a New Idyll This Year - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

We’ll Write a New Idyll This Year

 

The old order changeth, yielding place to new,

And God fulfils himself in many ways

 

-Idylls of the King, “The Passing of Arthur,” 8-9

 

Janus faces both ways, and so do we

A last, lingering look at the year that was

And then a turn to the year we must meet

Marching to it through Janus Pater’s doors

 

We will most remember about the past

Our friends whose pilgrimages came to their ends

We joy in the remembrance of their happiness

Their stories and songs, their unfailing kindness

 

Janus faces both ways, and so do we;   

But now our friends, our happy friends, they see

                                                           Light

 

 

And the new sun rose bringing the new year

 

     -Idylls, “The Passing of Arthur,” 469

 

Thursday, December 30, 2021

6 January 2021: To Ask to be Exempt would be Unreasonable - a poem of sorts

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

6 January 2021: To Ask to be Exempt Would be Unreasonable

 

 

“Death . . . comes for us all, my lords. Yes, even for Kings he comes…”

 

-St. Thomas More in Robert Bolt’s A Man for All Seasons

 

 

A slip of paper which I have since misplaced:

 

“SARS coronavirus 2 RNS

Detected”

                   Detected

                                      DETECTED

Me? But I’m special (my mother always said so)

 

“If you have a question regarding your…”

Well, no, I guess not. Time to pause and think

To ask to be exempt would be unreasonable

But will my corpse be stored in a reefer truck?

 

To ask to be exempt would be unreasonable

And so

What must I do in service to God and man?

 

 

 

I wrote these clumsy lines in January after my daughter recovered from the CV; she almost died of it. My pharmacist was diagnosed at about the same time as I was, 6 January, and died within two weeks. My wife was quite ill for a week but recovered. Some fifteen friends and acquaintances died from it this year. One friend died in a three-hospital shuffle, and because of the paperwork his body was not released to his family for months.

 

Vaccines, as you will remember, were available to Congress in December of 2020 but not to most citizens until March of 2021 (AOC gets coronavirus vaccine on social media, as Congress begins to receive Pfizer injections | Fox News), and  (The Distribution Timeline for the COVID-19 Vaccine | coronavirus (utah.gov)).

 

My symptoms were only something like a prolonged bad cold, an undeserved mercy.

 

The CV is real.

 

May our new year be free from it.

A Child's Garden of Worse(s) - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Child’s Garden of Worse(s)

 

Some poets wrote verses which were not meant to charm the reader

but to get them a Stalin prize.

 

Yevtushenko, A Precocious Autobiography, 1963

 

The children who are permitted to live

Are not permitted to read what they want

When they ask for adventures our censors give

Ideology, instead of a jaunt

 

The children who are not submissive to the code

Not following this week’s fashions in science

Or who presume to kick against the goad

Will be inclusively loved into compliance

 

And from the Hippocrene a taste, a drink?

Oh, no! Children are now forbidden to dream or think

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

The Stupidest Metaphor - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Stupidest Metaphor

 

Do these camouflage knee-pantsies make my 250-pound ass look too big?

 

He never formed up with a skirmish line

To poop and snoop to some distant trees

Across a death-hot field of weeds and mud

With some idiot yelling, “Dress it up!”

 

He never feared that a 40-mike-mike

Would blow his guts and spine into bloody rags

Which would get his air-conditioned C/O

In Saigon another medal and promotion

 

His PTSD is from watching TV

But he is pleased to claim that he is a warrior

Monday, December 27, 2021

A High-Tuned White Boy and his Come-to-Jesus Moment - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A High-Tuned White Boy and his Come-to-Jesus Moment

 

Only yesterday he was in control

Of his high-tuned, high-speed, white-boy screaming ride

Race-tracking our pot-holed, beer-canned country road

Without regard for sanity, safety, or sense

 

Today he sits and sulks in the passenger seat

Of the little wifey’s Toyota sedan

Shadowed by his grim-faced mother-in-law

Like maybe they’re off to see the judge

 

In this procession he seems all alone -

His hot sports car is apparently gone

If Good King Wenceslaus Looked Down Today - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

If Good King Wenceslaus Looked Down Today

 

If good King Wenceslaus looked down today

On this Feast of Stephen, he’d see a poor man

Gathering winter air-conditioning

Friday, December 24, 2021

Late in the Evening on Christmas Eve - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Late in the Evening on Christmas Eve

 

After breakfast with a friend

After setting up for a family luncheon

After a family luncheon that never seemed to end

After cleaning up after a family luncheon

          (and that, too, never seemed to end)

After a moment of sitting and thinking with wife and child

After opening gifts (with dachshunds and cats)

After sharing gifts (with dachshunds and cats)

After keeping dachshunds and cats from eating the tree ornaments

After watching Judy Garland sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

After sitting exhausted with a therapeutic episode of The Office

You realize

The day wasn’t so bad

Thursday, December 23, 2021

His Name is John - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

His Name is John

 

We plan our lives, we think our thoughts

We name the days, we name the child

We count the oughts, dismiss the naughts

We seek for peace, we fear the wild

 

We dare presume to sort our days

As if we were Creators too

To look upon our works and praise

That which we think is right and true

 

But Zechariah, his old face wan

Corrects us with:

                              “His name is John”

Practicing Mindful Breathing - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Practicing Mindful Breathing

 

We breathe mindfully but with our lungs

This necessity of life has become a trend

Which we study in meditative books

As if our alveoli were rosary beads

 

Even our watches want to instruct us

In the deep mysteries of inhalations

And like masters of postulants and novices

Ring us awake for our morning breaths

 

“Focus on your breathing” – how very odd

If we should respirate to the glory of God

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Word Sung as Light in the Darkness of Night - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Word Sung as Light

 

Upon hearing a recording of the Orthodox Christian Monks

of the Svetogorskaya Monastery

 

A deep, slow stream of tones, of modes, of chants

Where time and all eternity flow as one

Through voices and dreamlike echoings

Among the Altars of the earth and sky

 

The song begins upon the Bosporus

Ascends up to and beyond the spheres of Heaven

Then gently rains upon the souls of men

Forever and ever, in this world and the next

 

The Word first sung as Light, sung as Creation

And sung again as the Incarnation

 

 

Orthodox Christian Monks chant Christmas Carols - YouTube

 

(I’m not sure “carols” is correct; in their awe and reverence these works appear to be hymns.)

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Winter Solstice - Two MePhone Photographs, Autumn / Winter, 21 December 2021


The first picture was taken at 0958 in the last minute of autumn; the second was taken at 0959 in the first minute of winter.

A marvel for children and old men.