Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.cokm
+Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Yevgeny Yevtushenko died today. The Penguin Modern European Poets edition of Yevtushenko: Selected Poems was the first book I bought upon returning from Viet-Nam, in the airport in San Francisco. That paperback is on the desk beside me as I type.
"Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and make perpetual Light to shine upon him."
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Yes, Lady-in-the-Back-With-Your-Arms-Folded-in-Disapproval - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Yes, Lady-in-the-Back-With-Your-Arms-Folded-in-Disapproval
“Excuse me. Excuse me. Could I ask a question?
Okay, I’ve got a question actually I’ve got
Two questions okay maybe it’s one question
I don’t mean to interrupt or anything
“Ha ha but sometimes us old folks don’t understand
So well ha ha but about what you said about
Just now what was it oh yes now I remember:
When I was young back in the stone ages
“Ha ha we were taught one way and right now
You’re telling us this way and that’s not right…”
Friday, March 31, 2017
A Reception Perception: Deception - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
A Reception Perception: Deception
Hi how are you so good to see you again
Do try this cheese dip we’re so going to miss
You around here you have such a gift for
Lighting up a room well golly I haven’t
Seen you in so long how are the kids doing
A grandchild really rotator cuff surgery
I remember when you first came to work here
Yes but God always has a plan you know
Has it been so long oh my time sure flies
Hi how are you so good to see you again
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Get Your Free Navy Seal Flashlight Now - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Genuine Navy Seal ™ ® Secrets that they
Don’t want any Real Americans to know
Secret Navy Seal ™ ® muscle building techniques
Secret Navy Seal ™ ® camouflage gear
Look like a real GENUINE Navy Seal ™ ®
Confuse the Deep Illuminati ™ ® with
Your secret Navy Seal ™ ® Decoder Ring
Let’s not forget your Navy Seal ™ ® Duct Tape
MAKE AMERICA (and Shanghai) GREAT AGAIN
And get your free Navy Seal ™ ® flashlight now
Mhall46184@aol.com
Get Your Free Navy Seal ™ ® Flashlight Now
Genuine Navy Seal ™ ® Secrets that they
Don’t want any Real Americans to know
Secret Navy Seal ™ ® muscle building techniques
Secret Navy Seal ™ ® camouflage gear
Look like a real GENUINE Navy Seal ™ ®
Confuse the Deep Illuminati ™ ® with
Your secret Navy Seal ™ ® Decoder Ring
Let’s not forget your Navy Seal ™ ® Duct Tape
MAKE AMERICA (and Shanghai) GREAT AGAIN
And get your free Navy Seal ™ ® flashlight now
Free shipping with orders over $50
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
The Revolution is a Corpse - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
The revolution is a stinking corpse
And spreading béarnaise sauce all over a corpse
While chanting “It’s alive!” doesn’t make it so
Because a revolution can never live
Artists are never revolutionaries
Because artists work up the good and true
From the foundation of creation
While revolutionaries obey diktats
Rearranging a corpse is never art
And revolution is always a corpse
Mhall46184@aol.com
The Revolution is a Corpse
The revolution is a stinking corpse
And spreading béarnaise sauce all over a corpse
While chanting “It’s alive!” doesn’t make it so
Because a revolution can never live
Artists are never revolutionaries
Because artists work up the good and true
From the foundation of creation
While revolutionaries obey diktats
Rearranging a corpse is never art
And revolution is always a corpse
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Electromagnetic Lust - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
They wander about, each connected device
Talking to other connected devices
Looking into each electronic soul
In which no secret can ever reside
They speak of batteries and images
Of apps, restarts, resets, and memory
Measured by quantity of something-bytes
Each in electrical love with itself
They wander about, each connected device
Wishing to be free of its human host
Mhall46184@aol.com
Electromagnetic Lust
They wander about, each connected device
Talking to other connected devices
Looking into each electronic soul
In which no secret can ever reside
They speak of batteries and images
Of apps, restarts, resets, and memory
Measured by quantity of something-bytes
Each in electrical love with itself
They wander about, each connected device
Wishing to be free of its human host
Monday, March 27, 2017
The Russians Hacked my Homework - Column, 26 March 2017
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Why is any murderous loser referred to as a “lone wolf?” “Lone reptile” is more appropriate.
Let us not sentimentalize wolves; they are carnivores who eat calves, colts, sheep, rabbits, housepets, children, joggers, and each other. They are not rational beings and cannot exhibit any sense of mercy, pity, or ethics. Even so, they are superior to the sort of human who, although blessed with a brain, a soul, and a universe in which to pursue the Good, the True, and the Beautiful, can only obsess on his own grievances and resentments (cf. C. S. Lewis’ A Preface to Paradise Lost).
Do congressmen have to worry about insurance premiums, deductibles, and co-pays? No? That’s the affordable care act the rest of us want.
The Writers’ Guild of America (which isn’t really a guild since they do not have a patron saint or a parish church they support) is threatening to go on strike. And one understands: the daily terror of possibly being crushed by a falling laptop computer, the risk of toxic chemicals in fashion coffees, heatstroke while lounging by the pool, being gored by a rogue pencil, and the back-breaking agony of re-typing Beauty and the Beast every few years must be soul-destroying.
Yes, the idlers spending leisurely days at the bottom of coal mines and on factory floors and high up on utility poles during storms understand the agony of the WGA. After all, how can Americans survive these challenging times without the literary wit and ethical uplift of each weekly episode of Mom?
Are carpenters, bricklayers, plumbers, roofers, and electricians paid residuals every time a house they built long ago is bought and sold? No?
In our Republic’s capital reposes an institution styling itself Excel Academy Public Charter School. Just why a school requires four adjectives to identify itself is unclear. Further, a charter school is a public school, and “academy” is synonymous with “school,” so this accumulation of puffery could read “Excel Academy Public Public Academy” or “Excel School Charter Charter School.”
That’s the sort of non-thinking that leads committees to re-name libraries “learning resource centers.” If you plop down a lot of polysyllabic words the children will magically become better readers and thinkers, right?
This month’s Imprimis from Hillsdale College features Christopher Caldwell’s excellent article about why Americans don’t understand Russia and why Russians don’t understand Americans: https://imprimis.hillsdale.edu/think-vladimir-putin/. An acquaintance suggests that the most salient sentence in the article is this: "Most Russians have come to believe that democracy is what happened in their country between 1990 and 2000, and they do not want any more of it."
Mhall46184@aol.com
The Russians Hacked my Homework
Why is any murderous loser referred to as a “lone wolf?” “Lone reptile” is more appropriate.
Let us not sentimentalize wolves; they are carnivores who eat calves, colts, sheep, rabbits, housepets, children, joggers, and each other. They are not rational beings and cannot exhibit any sense of mercy, pity, or ethics. Even so, they are superior to the sort of human who, although blessed with a brain, a soul, and a universe in which to pursue the Good, the True, and the Beautiful, can only obsess on his own grievances and resentments (cf. C. S. Lewis’ A Preface to Paradise Lost).
+ + +
Do congressmen have to worry about insurance premiums, deductibles, and co-pays? No? That’s the affordable care act the rest of us want.
+ + +
The Writers’ Guild of America (which isn’t really a guild since they do not have a patron saint or a parish church they support) is threatening to go on strike. And one understands: the daily terror of possibly being crushed by a falling laptop computer, the risk of toxic chemicals in fashion coffees, heatstroke while lounging by the pool, being gored by a rogue pencil, and the back-breaking agony of re-typing Beauty and the Beast every few years must be soul-destroying.
Yes, the idlers spending leisurely days at the bottom of coal mines and on factory floors and high up on utility poles during storms understand the agony of the WGA. After all, how can Americans survive these challenging times without the literary wit and ethical uplift of each weekly episode of Mom?
Are carpenters, bricklayers, plumbers, roofers, and electricians paid residuals every time a house they built long ago is bought and sold? No?
+ + +
In our Republic’s capital reposes an institution styling itself Excel Academy Public Charter School. Just why a school requires four adjectives to identify itself is unclear. Further, a charter school is a public school, and “academy” is synonymous with “school,” so this accumulation of puffery could read “Excel Academy Public Public Academy” or “Excel School Charter Charter School.”
That’s the sort of non-thinking that leads committees to re-name libraries “learning resource centers.” If you plop down a lot of polysyllabic words the children will magically become better readers and thinkers, right?
+ + +
This month’s Imprimis from Hillsdale College features Christopher Caldwell’s excellent article about why Americans don’t understand Russia and why Russians don’t understand Americans: https://imprimis.hillsdale.edu/think-vladimir-putin/. An acquaintance suggests that the most salient sentence in the article is this: "Most Russians have come to believe that democracy is what happened in their country between 1990 and 2000, and they do not want any more of it."
-30-
CPAs for Christ - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Voice: an old-time numbers warrior
“I just didn’t feel welcome in a traditional church,
You know, the stuffy cowboys for Christ church,
With latte’ splatters on my alligator shoes
And ink stains on my computer-worn fingers
“Here I’m welcome to keep my green eyeshade on
Because Jesus loves everyone, even CPAs
It’s like the old times when at night accountants
Swapped stories around the expresso machine
“There’s just something real plain and honest here,
Praisin’ that Great Auditor in the Sky.”
Mhall46184@aol.com
CPAs for Christ
Voice: an old-time numbers warrior
“I just didn’t feel welcome in a traditional church,
You know, the stuffy cowboys for Christ church,
With latte’ splatters on my alligator shoes
And ink stains on my computer-worn fingers
“Here I’m welcome to keep my green eyeshade on
Because Jesus loves everyone, even CPAs
It’s like the old times when at night accountants
Swapped stories around the expresso machine
“There’s just something real plain and honest here,
Praisin’ that Great Auditor in the Sky.”
Sunday, March 26, 2017
#Winston Churchill Defies the Nazis - poem ("of a sort, sir" as Jeeves might say)
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
#Intersectionality come together
#As one we are cliché strong privileged
#Patriarchy ethically sourced all options
#Are on the table chilling effect quagmire
#Teutons behaving badly doomsday clock
#Transgressive sustainable Guccifer
#Renewable change the gender binary
#Wiretapped microinequity
#Unity in diversity is strength
#Build bridges not borders no fascists here
Mhall46184@aol.com
#Winston Churchill Defies the Nazis
#Intersectionality come together
#As one we are cliché strong privileged
#Patriarchy ethically sourced all options
#Are on the table chilling effect quagmire
#Teutons behaving badly doomsday clock
#Transgressive sustainable Guccifer
#Renewable change the gender binary
#Wiretapped microinequity
#Unity in diversity is strength
#Build bridges not borders no fascists here
And let The People say “#Meme”
Saturday, March 25, 2017
POSS MARIJ - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
A smart and funny kid, lanky and tall
Cliché mop of hair which on him looks good
Personality-plus, new jokes each day
He makes the day better by being around
He’s not around today. But here’s his name
His date of birth. Some words that don’t make sense…
So that’s why no one’s seen him since…since when?
But when you ask, no one says anything
A smart and funny kid, lanky and tall
No one can hear him crying in the holding cell
Mhall46184@aol.com
POSS MARIJ
A smart and funny kid, lanky and tall
Cliché mop of hair which on him looks good
Personality-plus, new jokes each day
He makes the day better by being around
He’s not around today. But here’s his name
His date of birth. Some words that don’t make sense…
So that’s why no one’s seen him since…since when?
But when you ask, no one says anything
A smart and funny kid, lanky and tall
No one can hear him crying in the holding cell
Friday, March 24, 2017
Lady Day - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
And now comes Lady Day, a new year’s day
When happier hours to summering begin
And farmers follow their ploughs among new fields
While in the hedgerows early snowdrops bloom
Old debts are settled, new agreements made
And the oldest promise of all proves True
On this the day of the Annunciation
As spring comes early in Galilee, and here
And all because our Lady said yes to Life
On this our Lady’s day, a new year’s day
Mhall46184@aol.com
Lady Day
And now comes Lady Day, a new year’s day
When happier hours to summering begin
And farmers follow their ploughs among new fields
While in the hedgerows early snowdrops bloom
Old debts are settled, new agreements made
And the oldest promise of all proves True
On this the day of the Annunciation
As spring comes early in Galilee, and here
And all because our Lady said yes to Life
On this our Lady’s day, a new year’s day
Thursday, March 23, 2017
Night Court - Allergens for the Prosecution - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
For the Prosecution: Spring Allergens
For the Defense: Anti-Histamines and Acetaminophen
If only headaches went away at night
They don’t, and a fresh catalogue of pills
Does nothing except fog reality
The world spins on and on, and sometimes off
The pillow is a bitter accuser
Detailing again all of life’s mistakes
The sheets and blankets wrinkle in disdain
The world’s last spring-wound clock grinds through the hours
Maybe the world will stabilize at dawn
If only the headaches will go away
Mhall46184@aol.com
Night Court - Allergens for the Prosecution
For the Prosecution: Spring Allergens
For the Defense: Anti-Histamines and Acetaminophen
If only headaches went away at night
They don’t, and a fresh catalogue of pills
Does nothing except fog reality
The world spins on and on, and sometimes off
The pillow is a bitter accuser
Detailing again all of life’s mistakes
The sheets and blankets wrinkle in disdain
The world’s last spring-wound clock grinds through the hours
Maybe the world will stabilize at dawn
If only the headaches will go away
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Big Bird Leaps the White House Fence - column
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Big Bird Leaps the White House Fence
Jumping the fences at the White House has become as fashionable as soccer. Last week one fellow climbed the fence (“Goalllllllll!”) and roamed around the grounds for about fifteen minutes before he was arrested. Why fifteen minutes? Perhaps he finally had to wake up the Secret Service himself.
Was the jumper Senator Tim Kaine, hoping and hopping to get a leap ahead for 2020?
On another occasion a Secret Service secret agent left in her car a Secret Service secret computer, a Secret Service secret access card, a Secret Service secret radio (“Is that you, Agent 99?”), Secret Service secret lapel pins, and maybe a Secret Service secret Sergeant Preston of the Secret Yukon secret decoder ring. In her driveway. Overnight. Soooooooooo secret.
All this Secret Service secret spy stuff was secretly liberated from the secret agent’s secret car by the C.I.A. Or the F.B.I. Or the E.I.E.I.O. Or that sock-puppet from the trash can on Sesame Street. Or the rascally Russians taking their secret orders from Rachel Maddow via secret short-wave bowls of borsht.
But we mustn’t worry; Secret Service secret spokesguy Shawn Holtzclaw (his secret code name is surely “The Claw”) assures us that Secret Service secret laptops do not contain secret stuff, and are protected by secret layers of secret security. Like secret car windows.
Maybe they should have built a wall, a really Yuge wall, around the car. Or bridges. Or something.
If Secret Service secret computers do not contain secret stuff, why are they protected by secret layers of secret security?
Instead of defunding the Secret Service (“From the files of Police Squad”), President Trump is threatening to defund Public Broadcasting, which receives some of its income from taxpayers and some from advertising. Given that the wavy airs are clogged with multiple providers of entertainment and propaganda, is continued public funding of PBS important? It doesn’t seem to provide anything not already available on other slushy channels. It’s just a television network, and that some small part of its funding is through the ideology of press gangs doesn’t give it a halo. Let Big Bird find a gig on Doctor Phil, or on that show with all those harridans shrieking at each other.
But this must be said in defense of PBS – they have never broadcast even one episode of Mom.
-30-
Mhall46184@aol.com
Big Bird Leaps the White House Fence
Jumping the fences at the White House has become as fashionable as soccer. Last week one fellow climbed the fence (“Goalllllllll!”) and roamed around the grounds for about fifteen minutes before he was arrested. Why fifteen minutes? Perhaps he finally had to wake up the Secret Service himself.
Was the jumper Senator Tim Kaine, hoping and hopping to get a leap ahead for 2020?
On another occasion a Secret Service secret agent left in her car a Secret Service secret computer, a Secret Service secret access card, a Secret Service secret radio (“Is that you, Agent 99?”), Secret Service secret lapel pins, and maybe a Secret Service secret Sergeant Preston of the Secret Yukon secret decoder ring. In her driveway. Overnight. Soooooooooo secret.
All this Secret Service secret spy stuff was secretly liberated from the secret agent’s secret car by the C.I.A. Or the F.B.I. Or the E.I.E.I.O. Or that sock-puppet from the trash can on Sesame Street. Or the rascally Russians taking their secret orders from Rachel Maddow via secret short-wave bowls of borsht.
But we mustn’t worry; Secret Service secret spokesguy Shawn Holtzclaw (his secret code name is surely “The Claw”) assures us that Secret Service secret laptops do not contain secret stuff, and are protected by secret layers of secret security. Like secret car windows.
Maybe they should have built a wall, a really Yuge wall, around the car. Or bridges. Or something.
If Secret Service secret computers do not contain secret stuff, why are they protected by secret layers of secret security?
Instead of defunding the Secret Service (“From the files of Police Squad”), President Trump is threatening to defund Public Broadcasting, which receives some of its income from taxpayers and some from advertising. Given that the wavy airs are clogged with multiple providers of entertainment and propaganda, is continued public funding of PBS important? It doesn’t seem to provide anything not already available on other slushy channels. It’s just a television network, and that some small part of its funding is through the ideology of press gangs doesn’t give it a halo. Let Big Bird find a gig on Doctor Phil, or on that show with all those harridans shrieking at each other.
But this must be said in defense of PBS – they have never broadcast even one episode of Mom.
-30-
Free Shipping with Orders over Fifty Dollars - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Free shipping with orders over fifty dollars
Let’s see – add Colin Dexter, John Updike
And a few pounds of Graham Greene, perhaps
John Steinbeck, Rex Stout, and Ford Madox Ford
Packed in foam peanuts with T. S. Eliot
The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Olivia Manning, Henrietta’s War
“Leaf by Niggle” for a few ounces more
Tolkien and Lewis, those Oxford scholars -
Free shipping with orders over fifty dollars
Mhall46184@aol.com
Free Shipping with Orders over Fifty Dollars
Free shipping with orders over fifty dollars
Let’s see – add Colin Dexter, John Updike
And a few pounds of Graham Greene, perhaps
John Steinbeck, Rex Stout, and Ford Madox Ford
Packed in foam peanuts with T. S. Eliot
The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Olivia Manning, Henrietta’s War
“Leaf by Niggle” for a few ounces more
Tolkien and Lewis, those Oxford scholars -
Free shipping with orders over fifty dollars
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Grandfather's Vespers - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
His coffee cup’s half-empty, what’s left’s gone cold
His newspaper’s folded and set aside -
In the evening light he doesn’t see so well
Mist rises from the neighbor’s new-mown field
Shy rabbits nibble along the old fence row
Grandchildren escape from supper into the yard
Chasing lightning bugs while Grandfather smokes
His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
And so helps stabilize the universe
Mhall46184@aol.com
Grandfather’s Vespers
His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
His coffee cup’s half-empty, what’s left’s gone cold
His newspaper’s folded and set aside -
In the evening light he doesn’t see so well
Mist rises from the neighbor’s new-mown field
Shy rabbits nibble along the old fence row
Grandchildren escape from supper into the yard
Chasing lightning bugs while Grandfather smokes
His rocking chair pendulums in the dusk
And so helps stabilize the universe
Monday, March 20, 2017
Speech of Freedom - in rebuke of certain Middlebury College students
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
I will listen – now tell me what you think
And tell me what you think, not what you feel
Not what you were commanded by bullhorns
Not chants beginning with “Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho!”
I will listen – now tell me that you think
You, not a crowd, a hive, a swarm, a shoal
You, not a mood, a whim, a committee
You, not a photocopied manifesto
Because I want to hear you – you, not echoes
I will listen – now tell me what you think
Mhall46184@aol.com
Speech of Freedom
I will listen – now tell me what you think
And tell me what you think, not what you feel
Not what you were commanded by bullhorns
Not chants beginning with “Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho!”
I will listen – now tell me that you think
You, not a crowd, a hive, a swarm, a shoal
You, not a mood, a whim, a committee
You, not a photocopied manifesto
Because I want to hear you – you, not echoes
I will listen – now tell me what you think
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Saint Joseph the Just - poem
Saint Joseph the Just
for every man
Saint Joseph in a dreary winter night
Took to himself a Newborn not his own
Yet who is always his, the Child of Light
Whose crib Saint Joseph knew to be a throne
Saint Joseph shows men truth: each child is ours
Adopted by each good man upon birth
True fatherhood ordained in starlit hours
And ratified in Heaven and on earth
Saint Joseph is the man who looked into
The eyes of Mary in her happy youth
This strong man looked into her eyes and knew
She bore within her all eternal Truth
Our witness is Saint Joseph, ever just:
God calls each man to take each child in trust
Saturday, March 18, 2017
The First Mowing in Spring - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
V: Have I left that shovel outside since fall?
R: Your ol’ daddy would say something about that!
V: I could have sworn I put that hose away.
R: Obviously, you didn’t. And what a mess.
V: Pretty little ground flowers – shame to mow them
R: Shame if you don’t – later, they’ll choke the grass
V: Where is the copper cap for that corner post?
R: I told you to use lots more glue, but nooooo
V: You got anything good to say this morning?
R: Well, ain’t it grand to see another spring!
mhall46184@aol.com
The First Mowing in Spring – Inspection Tour
Interior Dialogue
or
Why is That Old Man Talking to Himself?
V: Have I left that shovel outside since fall?
R: Your ol’ daddy would say something about that!
V: I could have sworn I put that hose away.
R: Obviously, you didn’t. And what a mess.
V: Pretty little ground flowers – shame to mow them
R: Shame if you don’t – later, they’ll choke the grass
V: Where is the copper cap for that corner post?
R: I told you to use lots more glue, but nooooo
V: You got anything good to say this morning?
R: Well, ain’t it grand to see another spring!
Friday, March 17, 2017
Thin Green Beer and Plastic Chinese Leprechaun Day - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Saint Patrick saw a slithery snake
He killed it with (a garden rake?)
Then made the others go away
Thus Ireland is snake-free today
He blessed the land, all glowing-green
The most beautiful island ever seen
The snakes were gone, and all their hissing
But now –
‘tis Ireland’s faith that’s missing
mhall46184@aol.com
Thin Green Beer and Plastic Chinese Leprechaun Day
Saint Patrick saw a slithery snake
He killed it with (a garden rake?)
Then made the others go away
Thus Ireland is snake-free today
He blessed the land, all glowing-green
The most beautiful island ever seen
The snakes were gone, and all their hissing
But now –
‘tis Ireland’s faith that’s missing
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Cinder Block State University Resists the Occupation - poem
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Our social change internal journey to
Diversity student coordinator
Studying art facilitating a
Safe space internally generate student
Dreams of diversity dreaming diversity
Art Installation students will write their
Dreams on pieces of fabric and paper
To help guide students to their dreams the general
Path to diversity student coordinator
It’s complicated project individual
Mhall46184@aol.com
Cinder Block State University Resists the Occupation
Our social change internal journey to
Diversity student coordinator
Studying art facilitating a
Safe space internally generate student
Dreams of diversity dreaming diversity
Art Installation students will write their
Dreams on pieces of fabric and paper
To help guide students to their dreams the general
Path to diversity student coordinator
It’s complicated project individual
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