Sunday, August 14, 2022

Hurricane Disaster Relief Kits - weekly column, 14 August 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Hurricane Disaster Relief Kits

 

This summer the Bishop of Beaumont is promoting a good idea and the organizational skills to make it so throughout the diocese: small, easily transportable plastic bags of needful items for anyone displaced by hurricanes, fires, tornadoes, or other disasters.

 

And in this part of the world, all of us have been displaced, and will be again. Hurricanes and flooding have sent us on the road or onto the boats, sometimes without a known destination. Some of us have bank accounts and credit cards and places to go; many don’t. And the places we go or the places we where we are isolated might not have the systems in place or the supplies to accomplish transactions. You can’t buy a band-aid or a razor or a towel if alligators are swimming through the muck where the grocery store used to be.

 

Many churches and other service organizations provide food, cooked when possible and as boxes of field rations when not, portable shower units, tents, tarps, first-aid, and other necessities for life as refugees.

 

The bishop’s throw-and-go (No, don’t actually throw it; you’d hurt someone) bags of non-food (and thus non-perishable) items are adjuncts, something to be handed out through existing services or by themselves as necessary. He has asked every family in the diocese to package a standard but flexible list of items sealed in a waterproof plastic bag to contribute to disaster relief. These kits are then stored in spaces in churches and rectories, ready for immediate giveaway to those headed to safety. The list:

 

One bath towel

Two wash cloths

Three bars of bath soap

One hairbrush

Three disposable razors

One can of shaving cream

Two toothbrushes

One tube of toothpaste

One stick of deodorant

One container of skin lotion

One small general-purpose first-aid kit

One package of ball point pens

One container of multi-purpose anti-bacterial ointment

One small LED flashlight

 

Many of these items wouldn’t require a new purchase. Most of us have good old towels and wash clothes that can be freshly laundered and packed. After all, someone under a bridge trying to get the kid cleaned up while the storm is blowing isn’t going to be picky about a new label and a brand name.

 

If you haven’t got three bars of soap, one would do, or maybe a couple of those little plastic bottles of shampoo pinched from the Holiday Inn.

 

Some things, such as hairbrushes and toothbrushes, ought to be new. Sure you can boil the germs and boogers and cooties out of them, but, still, new is better.

 

I saw one of these throw-and-go kits stocked, but on the list the first-aid kit notation was lined out and replaced with a box of band-aids. That’s a practical substitution.

 

Tiny little flashlights can now be bought cheaply by the dozen and they are so useful. We have so many illuminated gadgets in our houses that not until a power failure do we realize how dark the night is for us diurnal creatures. A flashlight is not only something for helping us see, but to be seen by – in addition to our voices, difficult to locate in the darkness, the rescuers can also see a light for determining location.

 

What shoulda / coulda / woulda been on the list is certainly a topic for discussion, but a sine qua non is that the distribution and handling of any one throw-and-go kit shouldn’t require a crew or any strength.  Putting these together is something all of us can do through our churches, volunteer organizations, schools, youth groups, and businesses.

 

In a disaster even the best and strongest among us cannot accomplish all that needs to be done. The little throw-and-go kits are a small contribution that anyone can make, and make now, before they are needed.

 

Those who will use them – because there will be hurricanes and evacuations - won’t know your name, nor will the bishop, but God certainly will.

 

-30-

 

Afghanistan: A Steady Diet of Invaders - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Steady Diet of Invaders

 

“And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of the late deceased,
 And the epitaph drear:  "A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the East”

 

-Kipling, “The Decline of the West”

 

This is the day, they say, that Kabul fell

A year ago - but Kabul did not fall

It’s still there: invaders come, invaders die

Pale British, Russians, and Americans

 

Afghanistan has eaten all of them

It even devours its own, and gnaws the bones

And all are dust along the Hindu Kush

Where lizards scuttle among imperial dreams

 

That land where caravans and mystics roam –

 

Let’s mind our own business and stay at home

Saturday, August 13, 2022

.553 / Free to Be / Dead, You See - doggerel


Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

.553 / Free to Be / Dead, You See


"Sheathe your sword, Morville, before you impale

your soul upon it."

-Richard Burton as Becket 


When this weapon blows a child’s head off

Don’t worry about that trifle

For the AR technically

Is not an assault rifle

Friday, August 12, 2022

Breakfast in Constantinople - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Breakfast in Constantinople

 

The waitress greeted us in Saint Petersburg

We drank strong coffee in Alexandria

Our omelets were served in Cambridgeshire

As we gossiped in the narthex of Hagia Sophia

 

We briefly sat in the halls of Congress and idled

And said good morning to Shelley and Keats

We admonished die Rheintochter to behave themselves

But they ignored us and flirted with some sailors

 

What fun in table-talk as the day begins -

There’s nothing more joyful than breakfast with friends!

Thursday, August 11, 2022

A Rosary of Childhood Summers - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Rosary of Childhood Summers

 

“And summer’s lease hath all too short a date”

 

-Shakespeare, Sonnet 18

 

Between infancy and adolescence

Ten summers form a crown of memories

An Eden of bare feet and ice cream bars

That inform the dreams of our after-years

 

Each day is its own rosary of life

Those works and books and thoughts and ordinary chores

That with their attendant offerings and prayers

Give meaning to the mysteries of life

 

But we tell best those holy beads of youth

Whose innocent joys began our search for Truth

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Opposite the House of Sculptures - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Opposite the House of Sculptures

 

“…unchanging, shrill, crazy exclamations and demands, which became progressively more impractical, meaningless, and unfulfillable…”

 

-Doctor Zhivago, Part Two, Chapter 13, “Opposite the House of Sculptures”

 

O strong man, strong man, Supremo Alpha-Weenie

Please be our Putin, Hitler, or Mussolini

 

O strong man, strong man; tell us what to think

Pour us some Jim Jones; we’ll take a real deep drink

 

O strong man, strong man; tell us what to do

We’ll happily go to prison just for you

 

O strong man, strong man; clench your mighty fist

You put for us the “GO” in your “jingoist”

 

O strong man, strong man, you are our latest god

Please break us to obedience with your mighty rod

 

O strong man, strong man, you are our highest law

Whatever dribbles from your mouth we listen in awe

 

O strong man, strong man, we are your little elves

We promise to stow our history upon the shelves

And never, ever again think for ourselves

 

 

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Getting the Cows Up for the Evening Milking - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Getting the Cows Up for the Evening Milking

 

My brother and I, barefootin’ down the lane

With an apple each, and a stick the cows ignore

A hot dry evening; sure wish there was some rain

I bonked Ol’ Bessie with an apple core

 

And if Dad saw that I’d sure get a switchin’

He taught us to treat animals fair and right

The late-summer grass gets my legs to itchin’

The milking follows, well into the August night

 

I’d give up my adventures, the places I’ve been

If I could get the cows up once again

Monday, August 8, 2022

A Prisoner's Modest Dream - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Prisoner’s Modest Dream

 

Some humorist on parade: “When the war is over…I’m going to buy a German and keep him the garden and count him.”

 

-Wodehouse in a German detention camp,

quoted in Frances Donaldson’s P. G. Wodehouse: A Biography

 

When this is all over I pray for us

To sit in in my yard in some cheap Wal-Mart chairs

Each of us with a beer and a cigar

We could talk about the joys of fresh air

 

We could talk about our families and our work

And air-conditioning, and our home addresses

No longer A-43-Upper or B-24-Lower

We could sing about the Day of Jubilee

 

And give our voices and our lives to God

And there wouldn’t ever be a head count

Sunday, August 7, 2022

Don't Follow the Science - weekly column, 7 August 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Don’t Follow the Science

 

“Follow the science” is itself an unscientific expression, personifying science as a sort of cosmic Boy Scout troop leader or perhaps a soldier taking the point. It suggests that we should not follow our hearts (which is just as illogical), our music, our dreams, or anything else except science personified almost as a deity.

 

But science is an abstract concept, not a person. The word comes from “scientia,” Latin for knowledge of all sorts. In our time we have narrowed the term for the purpose of discovering and proving facts that can be demonstrated to be valid or invalid [6 Steps of the Scientific Method (thoughtco.com)]. 

 

As an example, we humans have designed instruments arbitrarily marked with numbers for measuring the air temperature for utility. Even so, a scientist would not say that today’s temperature is 60 degrees Fahrenheit; he or she would say that at a given time a given thermometer at a given location read 60 degrees Fahrenheit. He might go further and remind us that thermometers almost never agree with each other. So what is the temperature? Scientifically, we can’t really know, but even a caveman could tell us if the day feels warm or cold.

 

Unfortunately, many humans tend to accept uncritically almost any allegation to which the label “science” is attached, especially if that allegation is made via the Orwellian Telescreens seemingly superglued to our hands. If a piece of information is beamed to us through a little made-in-China box that lights up and make noises then it must be true, right?

 

We fancy we have in some way progressed because we believe in little boxes instead of the Delphic Oracle, but in the event they are only little boxes.

 

Even scientists aren’t always scientific; now they name storms and even attribute agency to them, a form of personification that reminds us of Greek paganism. 

 

This brings us to the French scientist who posted to the InterGossip (which is scientific) a photograph (also scientific) allegedly taken by the James Webb Space Telescope (yes, scientific) and promoted it as a super-golly-gee-whiz image (scientific) of Proxima Centauri, a far-off star.

 

After a month or so, the scientist admitted that the picture he promoted as a wonderful bit of science was in fact not a star but a cross section of a sausage. He said he was only joking [Scientist admits 'space telescope' photo is actually chorizo in tasty Twitter prank (msn.com)].

 

Follow the science, right?

 

When someone says “follow the science” what he almost always means is that he uncritically believes whatever babble he last read on the InterGossip. In his small world, “you could research it” means to access whatever conspiracies are floating around among Orwellian telescreens without ever once considering the possibility that they might be inaccurate or even impossible – “Q,” for instance, or Hillary Clinton dismembering children in a pizza parlor, or the reincarnation of John F. Kennedy Jr. on the Grassy Knoll.

 

Not so long ago anyone positing such absurdities would have been laughed out of the conversation; now that we have the science of the InterGossip beamed through the science of little glowing boxes there are people who now believe such nonsense and sometimes act on it to the harm of others.

 

Following the science seems mostly to be a matter of bellowing thought-denying chants through bullhorns and raising clenched fists at each other instead of thinking things through and considering all the possibilities with both clarity and charity.

 

The six steps of the scientific method constitute a valid means of examining only those facts which can be evaluated and measured. Science cannot examine love, flowers, sunsets, a father playing catch with his child, or old friends playing chess around a fire, and so science, while valid in its own orbit, is but an incomplete study of Creation. Science itself is not a god, and we dare not presume to treat it as one.

 

-30-

Saturday, August 6, 2022

The Nicest Funeral That Never Was - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Nicest Funeral That Never Was

 

The doors of the church of my long-ago youth

Were locked; I peeked through the glass and saw

Huge Peavey speakers dangling in holy silence

Above where the Altar used to be

 

When friends arrived we pondered the mystery

Of a man’s reported death and cremation

With obsequies scheduled for Saturday

Yes, said the passer-by we asked about it

 

A Saturday next month, and so we loosened our ties

And over fingers of Scotch we asked our whys

Friday, August 5, 2022

An Active School Meeting in Progress - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Active School Meeting in Progress

 

A motion to adjourn is always in order

 

This morning I drove by my old school

A staff meeting was being committed inside

Perpetrating crimes against intelligence

“HELLO MY NAME IS”

                                      10,000 years of civilization?

 

Doughnuts and foam cups of coffee

 

“IT’S A GREAT DAY TO BE A WILDCAT!”

Or a lion, a tiger, a platypus

The new superintendent loves Jesus

His family, children, and America

 

Doughnuts and foam cups of coffee

 

He introduces the motivational speaker

Who loves Jesus, his family, children

America, and unsourced parables

“MAKE THIS THE BEST YEAR EVER! HOO-AH!”

 

Doughnuts and foam cups of coffee

 

The coaches sit in the back reading the sports pages

And Campbell’s Texas Football – a point of privilege

English teachers count split infinitives in the program

“LET’S ALL HOLD HANDS AND SING OUR ALMA MATTER [sic]!”

 

Doughnuts and foam cups of coffee

 

Generally speaking I’m against the death penalty

I’d make an exception for motivational speakers

 

It’s for the children

Thursday, August 4, 2022

A Sad Old Man on the Witness Stand - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Sad Old Man on the Witness Stand

 

How easy it is to scorn the man we see

Bloated and loud-mouthed, insolent to all

A foul and loathsome tormentor of souls

A false accuser, a treacherous man

 

And now we see him brought low at last

Sweating and coughing and goggling his eyes

The tormentor now snarling in outrage and fear

His lies and greed and hate turned back on him

 

A curious thing about this squirming creature:

Maybe in him we see something of ourselves

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Social Security Online FFTTT!

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Social Security Online

 

We have suspended electronic access

to your personal information we tried

three times to match the information you provided

with our records but were unable

to do so you may electronic information

again after 24 hours please verify

your personal information again

before trying to use this suspension

will not affect any Social Security benefits

you receive for further assistance please contact

EXIT My Social Security Request

a replacement social security card

we’re sorry we cannot accept online requests

at this time please try again later

you may begin a replacement social security

card request using another online social

may also contact your local office

for other replacement card options DONE

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

If I Win the Lottery - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

If I Win the Lottery

 

Above all, don’t lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.

 

-Fr. Zosima in Book II, Chapter 2 of The Brothers Karamazov

 

If I win the lottery, which is unlikely

Because I never buy a ticket, you know

I’m going to have cases of the Modern Library edition

Of The Brothers Karamazov shipped to me.

 

For the rest of my life I will give copies

To everyone I meet: men in red plastic caps

Mensheviks, Bolsheviks, vegetarians

A lonely soul waiting at the bus stop

 

Dostoyevsky for everyone

If I win the lottery

Monday, August 1, 2022

Undocumented Gardening - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Undocumented Gardening

 

Last week I planted my autumn garden

          No permits were required

This evening I dragged hoses in this drought

          No reports were assigned

 

This morning I freshened the water for the bees

          There was no sign-in sheet

And then I used a machine for cutting weeds

          No evaluations

 

And then while resting in the leafy shade

I inventoried the grasses, blade by blade

The Mystery of the Lunar Month - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Mystery of the Lunar Month

 

The reality of the lunar month

A tiny bat jerking and jinking through the dusk

In pursuit of its evening mosquitoes

Beneath a far-up vapor trail

 

The mystery of the lunar month

Calculated by wise ones in the long ago

With night far gentler than the solar heat

And minds more subtle than the glare of day

 

Each a mathematical autocrat

(Smoking an after-dinner ziggurat?)

Saturday, July 30, 2022

The Curious Events of 29-30 July 2022 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Curious Events of 29-30 July 2022

 

At the gas station I bought a Chinese rocket

And worried that a lottery might fall from the sky

I tucked away the ticket into my pocket

Or tucked my pocket into my ticket – but why?

 

If mega-millions came crashing down to earth

The date-stamped rocket would serve no need or whim

Exploding numbers would displace the mirth

As Macbeth’s lady wife once said to him

 

At the gas station I bought the American dream

Which hissed into the sea – and that’s my theme

Friday, July 29, 2022

The Age of the Clear Plastic Backpack - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Age of the Clear Plastic Backpack

 

My school bag was an old Boy Scout knapsack

And in Indo-China I carried my kit

In canvas made in 1944

And on canvas we carried away the dead

 

As a civilian I carried a briefcase for a time

But a briefcase is like a narrow tie

They both show up on old-movie night

Just right for Tony Randall in the 1950s

 

I’m back to canvas, but now they make the kids

Carry clear plastic in our war against ourselves

Thursday, July 28, 2022

There is no Symbolism in a Flat Tire - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

There is no Symbolism in a Flat Tire

 

There is no symbolism in a flat tire

This morning it was round, and now it is not

Part of it is round, and part of it is flat

Either way, it’s not going anywhere

 

Not to the movies, or for coffee with a friend

Or to the grocery for that famous loaf of bread

Which through mitosis becomes shopping for a week

And I didn’t know you like asparagus

 

A tire cannot fly us to the moon with Sinatra

It never could. But Denny’s with you would do

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

April is not the Cruelest Month - rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

April is not the Cruelest Month – July Is

 

Across the oily gravel the scrabbling of weary feet

As if life itself were burning in the heat

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

The School Superintendent Gives a Speech - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The School Superintendent Gives a Speech

 

You can’t just throw money at the problems

you have to think outside the box education

for the 21st century my door is always open

words have meanings professional passionate

mission statement child-centered striving exceptional

make a difference you can’t just throw money

at the problems you have to think outside

the box education for the 21st century

my door is always open words have meanings

professional passionate mission statement

child-centered striving exceptional make a difference

you can’t just throw money at the problems

you have to think outside the box education

for the 21st century my door is always open

words have meanings professional passionate

mission statement child-centered striving exceptional

make a difference you can’t just throw money

at the problems you have to think outside

the box education for the 21st century

my door is always open words have meanings

professional passionate mission statement

child-centered striving exceptional make a difference

Monday, July 25, 2022

The Junior Woodchuck Manual - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Junior Woodchuck Manual

 

The Junior Woodchuck Manual is online now

But there it loses some of its magic

I’m keeping the tattered hardback of our youth

The trusty companion of our childhood days

 

When every summer oak concealed a dragon

And paths through the woods led to Neverland

The cattle pond was a mysterious sea

With a magic kingdom on the other side

 

Worlds better than this one, and far more true -

Oh, yes, I know that you remember too!



(Thank you, Uncle Walt, for everything.)

The Russian Chess Computer of Lingering Death - weekly column, 24 July 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Russian Chess Computer of Lingering Death

 

In Ian Fleming’s novel Live and Let Die, the main villain, Mr. Big, orders a minor villain, Tee Hee, to break the little finger of James Bond’s left hand.

 

Ouch.

 

“Do you expect me to talk!?”

 

“No, Mr. Bond; I expect you to type only with your right hand!”

 

Building on Tee Hee’s digital expertise, contemporary Russia has developed a computerized hand which will break fingers and win chess matches [Chess robot breaks finger of seven-year-old boy during tournament in Russia | Daily Mail Online].

 

In an exhibition match in Moscow last week a seven-year-old boy was playing against the mechanical Tee Hee when the machine, perhaps in fear of losing, grabbed and crushed the child’s finger.

 

Naturally the adults blamed the child. Sergei Smagin, VP of the Russian Chess Federation, said, “There are certain safety rules, and the child, apparently, violated them.”

 

Safety rules. In chess. Yep, the rooks are especially prone to mechanical breakdown and explosions if you don’t follow all safety procedures.

 

If in Russia a player can lose a finger playing chess, then the Go To Jail card in a game of Monopoly could be a ten-year sentence to the Lubyanka.

 

Mr. Smagin averred that the finger-lickin’-good chess arm is “absolutely safe.”

 

Sergei Lazerev, the President of the RCF, blamed the kid for playing chess too fast, thus confusing the computer.

 

For embarrassing the computer and the State the seven-year-old might be conscripted to drive a tank in Ukraine, where thousands of young Russians are sent to die.

 

If a computer is so vindictive about losing a chess match, imagine how dangerous it would be while driving home afterward, especially if it stops off at the pub for a few boilermakers of WD-40 and Mr. Clean.

 

Or maybe the chess computer wanders the lonely streets of Volgograd at night, mumbling about how he lost to a seven-year-old: “I coulda been somebody. I coulda been a contender. Instead of an itinerant chess bum. Which is what I am.”

 

And so, parents, be advised: don’t let your innocent children hang around dens of sin where chess is played. If your children start whispering suspicious words and phrases like “en passant,” or “queen’s pawn to queen’s pawn four” or “castling,” refer them immediately for psychological counseling. Don’t be afraid to check your children’s room for such contraband as chessboards. After all, you want your children to be normal, well-adjusted Americans staring blankly into glowing Orwellian telescreens.

 

-30-

Sunday, July 24, 2022

A Certain Bipedal Species (us) Returns to the Primordial Muck - self-censored poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Certain Bipedal Species (us) Returns to the Primordial Muck

 

(The Self-Censored Version)

 

A visit with old friends from long ago

The conversation soon turned to ___ and ___

They compared their ___ head to toe

___ ___ and ___ ___

 

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ embrace

A ___ that never ___ – oh, ick, that ooze!

The price of each ___  ___ ___  disgrace

Discussed in ___  grunts and ___ moos

 

So I left early for fear

 

The next topic might be (this is just a hunch)

About which visiting human to cook for lunch

Saturday, July 23, 2022

Fitted with an Ankle Monitor - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Fitted with an Ankle Monitor

 

No one wants to be fitted with an ankle monitor

Except for this man, selecting an ankle

No one wants to sign all sorts of government forms

Except for this man, signing those forms

 

No one wants to wait for hours in a lobby

Except for this man, waiting for hours

No one wants to pack three years into a paper bag

Except for this man

 

Who is one steel door, one concrete path, and two wire gates

Away from his mom in the parking lot

Friday, July 22, 2022

An Armada of Black Escalades - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Armada of Black Escalades

 

…detailed lists of disloyal government officials

 

-Inside Trump '25: A radical plan for Trump’s second term (axios.com)

 

A shadow government just like

The new government just like

The previous government -

And just whose names are inscribed on Schedule F?

 

Those black Escalades

 

Armored Mariahs carrying functionaries

And their lists to secret meetings in the night

The Party faithful planning a new Lubyanka

And cultural suicide through electronic noise

 

Those black Escalades

 

The escort has a warrant for your obedience

You can see Siberia from the passenger seat

Thursday, July 21, 2022

Famous Name Brand Literary Magazine Gives Us Only Four Commands Today - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Famous Name Brand Literary Magazine Gives Us

Only Four Commands Today

 

Famous name brand literary magazine

Gives us all only four commands today:

 

You should be watching

Reviews You Need to Read This Week

Start Listening Now

Start Reading Now

 

To which we who are obstinate respond:

 

No

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Bugging Gentlemen of a Certain Age - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Bugging Gentlemen of a Certain Age

 

For Tod

Who Waits for a Microchip

 

Oh, isn’t it awkward being passed along

Up and down confusing, fluorescent-lit corridors

From receptionist to nurse-practitioner

To technician to physician and back again

 

And given a little card with a clever graphic design

On one side and an appointment with

A different receptionist / nurse-practitioner / technician /

Physician in another time and place

 

The passings of time and people concluding with

A ruling from a venerable medical sage:

“Your heart is in good condition -

                                     for a man your age.”

 

 

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

For Protestors in All Causes - rhyming doggerel, with an emphasis on armpit hair

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

For Protestors in All Causes

 

Please –

 

Stop pumping your fisties up in the air

I’m tired of seeing your old armpit hair!

 

Oh, yes, you believe in this week’s cause

But that grotesque growth would give a lawnmower pause

 

And one more trifling thing (so please take note):

You shout and clench your fist, but do you vote?

Monday, July 18, 2022

The Dachshund and the 'Possum - doggerel, with emphasis on the dog

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Dachshund and the ‘Possum

 

I let the dog out for her night patrol

To sniff the boundaries and take a stroll

 

But out in the dark, beyond the cat

That was where an old ‘possum was at

 

The dachshund stiffened; she was filled with rage

She charged the enemy; she snarled, “ENGAGE!”

 

I commanded the dachshund to let it go

With bark and bite and snap her answer was “no”

 

The fierce dachshund growled; the old ‘possum hissed

I grabbed for the dog but obviously missed

 

I went back inside to take a shower

Thinking to give the stupid dog an hour

 

And so it passed; her allotted time is up

The standoff continues ‘tween ‘possum and pup

 

At dawn it may be that one is dead –

I’ll find out then; for now I’m off to bed!

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Time for the Secret Service to be Reformed - weekly column, 17 July 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Time for the Secret Service to be Reformed

 

One wonders if the Secret Service has become a Streltsy, a palace guard answerable to no one.

 

Not so long ago the Secret Service was one of the most honored organizations in the United States, and had earned that respect through duty and sacrifice.

 

The Secret Service, so secret that it has its own website: (Home | United States Secret Service), is tasked with ensuring “…the safety of the president, the vice president, their families, the White House, the vice president’s residence, visiting foreign heads of state, former United States presidents and their spouses, and events of national significance” (ibid).

 

The Secret Service is also involved in national security, public safety, protecting the integrity of our decaying currency, and fighting cybercrime.

 

We can conclude that under those titles and with an acknowledged 7,000 members and an acknowledged budget of $2.44 billion [Secret Service Director Calls for More Staffing, Retention and Cybersecurity Funding  - Government Executive (govexec.com)] the Secret Service is one of the biggest, baddest boys on the metaphorical block and can do pretty much whatever it wants to do.

 

But is the Secret Service in the 21st century doing what it ought to do?

 

Setting aside the Service’s catalogue of world-wide party-hearty scandals there are now serious questions about the Service’s actions on 6 January 2021 and a possible coverup.

 

The then-president at one point on 6 January tasked the Secret Service with transporting him from one place to another within the national capital, well within the scope of their duties. The Service refused. We can argue until the emus come home about whether the president’s thoughts or intentions were good or bad. That’s not the point. The point is that the President of the United States gave a lawful order to the Secret Service, and they did not follow it.

 

Later the same day the vice-president was moved by the Secret Service from the House chamber, which was being attacked, to a place the Service deemed safer, a loading dock in the basement.  At some point the Secret Service wanted the vice-president to seek further refuge within the purported safety of an armored vehicle.  While in the area of the loading dock Mr. Pence was in view of dozens of people and cameras; inside the armored car it would be a different matter. Apparently / it seems / maybe / kinda / sorta that the vice-president felt that if he obeyed the Service and got into the isolation of the interior of the armored car he would no longer have any control over his movements and thus could not fulfil his constitutional duty in certifying the election results. After all, given that the Secret Service had earlier chosen to control the president’s movements, controlling the vice-president’s movements would be easier.

 

And now we read that the not-so-secret Secret Service’s communications for the 6th of January are suddenly secret after all – like Mrs. Clinton’s communications [Why Hillary Clinton Deleted 33,000 Emails on Her Private Email Server - ABC News (go.com)] they have reportedly disappeared.

 

The point, remember, is not whether we like or dislike Mr. Trump or Mr. Pence, or whether we are satisfied with the results of the election. The point of these few paragraphs is that some of the 7,000 employees of Secret Service, whose duties include protecting the president and vice-president and by extension the safety of the nation, may have overreached their authority for purposes best known to themselves, and may be concealing their activities from oversight.

 

We need a stable organization protecting the presidency, not a Streltsy controlling the presidency.

 

-30-

Non-Profit, NGO, and a Yo-Ho-Ho - a weak, unrhymed couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Non-Profit, NGO, and a Yo-Ho-Ho

 

The status of my bank account tells me

That I too am a non-profit organization

Friday, July 15, 2022

The Secret Service Says: Our Computers Ate Our Homework - doggerel

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Secret Service Says: Our Computers Ate Our Homework

 

Grown women in Colombia, little girls back home

Beating up a woman in a Jerusalem bar

Drunk and disorderly wherever they roam

(Say, Mr. Pence, just step into our car…)

 

A funny thing, those messages gone missing

And wanting to take the VP - for a ride?

Maybe it was Dear Leader’s *** they were kissing

So what has our SS got to hide?

 

So, yes, we’re all a little bit nervous

About the weirdos and drunks in our Secret Service

Thursday, July 14, 2022

Kleenex Goes in the Top, Right-Hand Drawer - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Kleenex Goes in the Top, Right-Hand Drawer

 

They don’t talk about Kleenex in teacher-prep

But it is an essential for adolescent tears

The hissings of mean girls, heartbreak, mis-matched socks

The deaths of schoolmates

 

Kleenex goes in the top, right-hand drawer

Immediately to hand when the world goes wrong

Rejections, failing a test, no date from the prom

The deaths of schoolmates

 

Kleenex goes in the top, right-hand drawer

Sometimes it’s all you have

Wednesday, July 13, 2022

When Caesurae Go Bad - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When Caesurae Go Bad

 

The dramatic pause-dash that - holds its breath

Is meant to create a – sense of tension

For dramatic effect; that’s what they - say

John Wayne uses the - caesura a lot

 

But since neither writers – nor editors – know

How to employ the worthy – caesura

They just - shoehorn it in any old place

Dramatic effect even in a - recipe

 

Stop using those dashes for pointless pauses

And save them for really important - causes

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Patient Intake: Mis'ries - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Patient Intake: Mis’ries

 

When I was a young LVN I didn’t understand

Mis’ries as a complaint or a diagnosis

From Viet-Nam I well knew GSW

Pneumothorax, traumatic amputation

 

But in the civilian ER I met old people

And when I asked what was wrong they said

Mis’ries, you know; I got me my mis’ries

Doctor Junior, he’ll know what I mean

 

It isn’t in the texts, but now that I’m old

I know about all about th’ mis’ries myself

 

(I was the first male LVN I ever knew)

Monday, July 11, 2022

The People of America Stand Tall - a sort-of poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The People of America Stand Tall

 

When the American people are faced with a crisis

They buy toilet paper and semi-automatic rifles

 

And so are wiped out either way

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Poetry in the Desert - weekly column, 10 July 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Poetry in the Desert

 

A story told about Field Marshal Wavell is that while throwing some things into a bag for a field tour of soldiers defending India from invasion by the Japanese he asked if anyone had seen his Browning.

 

When someone pointed out that he was wearing it – his Browning 9mm – he said that he was looking for his copy of the poems of Robert Browning. In all his campaigns Wavell always carried poetry with him.

 

The life and career of Field Marshall Archibald Wavell has been the subject of numerous biographies, and rightly so. He campaigned against the Boers in South Africa, was arrested by the Russians as a spy (and he was) in 1912, was badly wounded and lost an eye leading his soldiers against the Germans in the First World War, served in the inter-war Palestinian Mandate, won Britain’s first victories in the Second World War, was admired by Rommel (who carried Wavell’s book on leadership with him in the desert) and despised by Churchill, and was the next to last Viceroy of India. Wavell was no Call of Duty keyboard commando; he was the real thing.  Archibald Wavell: Britain's first wartime victor | National Army Museum (nam.ac.uk)

 

Most of what passes for poetry now is self-obsessed, self-pitying wailing scribbled in free verse, which of course is not poetry at all.  But this was not true in Wavell’s Victorian youth, when poetry was written and read as a literary art, not therapy.  After the disasters of the First World War, the ‘flu epidemic, economic collapse and the deaths of millions poetry generally ceased to be structured, artistic, aesthetical pleasing, or encouraging, but many individuals resisted the chaos and maintained the strength and determination of their upbringing.

 

Indeed, for millennia almost all literature in all cultures was poetry. The greats we studied in school were soldiers, statesmen, businessmen, and agriculturalists first; writing poetry was a leisure activity but also something expected of every man or woman of substance. Prose as art comes to humanity late; the argument has been made that Cervantes’ Don Quixote is the first prose novel.

 

Thus, Wavell’s love of poetry was an inheritance of 10,000 or more years of civilization. One cannot imagine him spending an evening staring at a glowing screen.

 

Like Patton, Rommel, and other military leaders Wavell wrote scholarly articles and books on the practices of war, but reading poetry was his after-hours hobby and late in his life he edited a volume of his favorite poems entitled Other Men’s Flowers. One can only regret that his editor did not change that unfortunate title, for this is a volume of poetry mostly by men and mostly for men. The book, after all, is an anthology of a soldier’s personal favorites while on campaign and not a compendium of quota-driven scribbles.

 

Because this is an anthology one simply opens the book and finds a poem (they are all short ones). If one poem won’t do, then another one will.  Best of all, Wavell chose poets who respect the reader.

 

Both the hardback and the paperback are out of print, but they are still available cheap on Brazos de Dios.com (or is it some other river?). We spend much of our lives waiting for others or riding in the passenger seat, and it’s going-against-the-stream fun to be the only one in a waiting room with a book of instead of the omnipresent little Orwellian telescreen made in Shanghai. We might as well catch up on the eternal wisdom of our ancestors instead of obeying the transient lights and noises of programmers.

 

-30-