Something of a cliche' composition, but this was as found.
Tap for the complete image.
Friday, February 9, 2018
Sunlit Alley with Bicycle, Jefferson, Texas - photograph
Something of a cliche' composition, but this was as found.
Tap for the complete image.
Alexander Pushkin and the Poker-Playing Dogs (a Russia series, 18) - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
We can have our Pushkin, all thinky and sad
And our poker-playing pups, cheating at cards
Ruslan and Ludmylla dancing on ice
At the Houston Airport Holiday Inn
Did Pushkin paint the poker-playing pups
Or carve tetrameters while in his cups?
That green baize poker table, a samovar
And the Big Giant Head, who needs an ace
We can have our Pushkin, all thinky and sad
And too those kitschy dogs, being real bad!
mhall46184@aol.com
Alexander Pushkin and
the Poker-Playing Dogs
We can have our Pushkin, all thinky and sad
And our poker-playing pups, cheating at cards
Ruslan and Ludmylla dancing on ice
At the Houston Airport Holiday Inn
Did Pushkin paint the poker-playing pups
Or carve tetrameters while in his cups?
That green baize poker table, a samovar
And the Big Giant Head, who needs an ace
We can have our Pushkin, all thinky and sad
And too those kitschy dogs, being real bad!
Reading the Morning Newspaper at the Coffee Shop - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
The fresh death notices a reader eyed
“Who was this woman, who recently died?”
“My ex,” he replied, not breaking his stride
With bacon and eggs, and toast on the side
mhall46184@aol.com
Reading the Morning Newspaper at the Coffee Shop
The fresh death notices a reader eyed
“Who was this woman, who recently died?”
“My ex,” he replied, not breaking his stride
With bacon and eggs, and toast on the side
The Olympics and Cruella De Vil - column
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
The squabbling and politics began before the first competition of this year’s purported Olympics (which are not on Mount Olympus at all).
A male American athlete is reportedly suffering a wall-eyed hissy-fit because a woman will carry the national flag in the processional march and he won’t. After a tie vote the issue was decided by a coin toss. In an anti-social media posting of presidential dignity the male athlete said the coin toss was dishonorable.
The North Koreans will be permitted to compete in the games in South Korea, and South Koreans despise the U.S.A. as much as the Norks do. Don’t expect a tribute to the thousands of Americans who died protecting ungrateful South Korea.
The Korean peninsula is, well, Korean, divided in the middle between Koreans who don’t like each other except when they do, and then they both hate Americans. Let the Koreans sort it all out. Further, Chinese imperialists are strutting around in the area with their shiny new navy, so the Koreans should talk them into choosing sides and paying for the privilege, instead of our depleted Navy and Air Force. There are precedents - no American seems to miss funding bases in Viet-Nam and the Philippines.
The Koreans have promised to stop selling dog meat for the duration of the Olympics. How nice. Dachshunds will be off the menu for a month. If Charles Schultz’s Peanuts is printed in the newspapers in Korea, the appropriate and of course respectful cultural adaptation would be to have Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the other kids slaughter, dismember, and barbecue Snoopy.
According to http://koreandogs.org/ (I do not know how reliable this site is, but other sites concur), Koreans, north and south, prepare pooches for supper with the little things being “electrocuted, hanged, beaten, have their throats slashed, or are boiled or burnt to death.”
Just imagine a television cooking show in the Koreas: “Today, folks, we’re going to take this adorable little beagle with the cute, waggly tail and the big trusting eyes, put him through the blender, and then braise the beagle bits to a nice golden brown…”
The mascot for the Korean Winter Olympics is the Korean white tiger. Perhaps after the games he, too, will be eaten.
Another public relations issue and plumbing challenge at the Korean Olympics is the norovirus is spreading among staffers and possibly competitors. Norovirus, as you remember, is a Latin medical term which means “puking your guts up.”
The source of the current strain is unknown. Perhaps the puppies weren’t cooked properly.
Oh, yes, let us all be enlightened by the spirit of the Olympics.
mhall46184@aol.com
The Olympics and Cruella De Vil
The squabbling and politics began before the first competition of this year’s purported Olympics (which are not on Mount Olympus at all).
A male American athlete is reportedly suffering a wall-eyed hissy-fit because a woman will carry the national flag in the processional march and he won’t. After a tie vote the issue was decided by a coin toss. In an anti-social media posting of presidential dignity the male athlete said the coin toss was dishonorable.
The North Koreans will be permitted to compete in the games in South Korea, and South Koreans despise the U.S.A. as much as the Norks do. Don’t expect a tribute to the thousands of Americans who died protecting ungrateful South Korea.
The Korean peninsula is, well, Korean, divided in the middle between Koreans who don’t like each other except when they do, and then they both hate Americans. Let the Koreans sort it all out. Further, Chinese imperialists are strutting around in the area with their shiny new navy, so the Koreans should talk them into choosing sides and paying for the privilege, instead of our depleted Navy and Air Force. There are precedents - no American seems to miss funding bases in Viet-Nam and the Philippines.
The Koreans have promised to stop selling dog meat for the duration of the Olympics. How nice. Dachshunds will be off the menu for a month. If Charles Schultz’s Peanuts is printed in the newspapers in Korea, the appropriate and of course respectful cultural adaptation would be to have Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the other kids slaughter, dismember, and barbecue Snoopy.
According to http://koreandogs.org/ (I do not know how reliable this site is, but other sites concur), Koreans, north and south, prepare pooches for supper with the little things being “electrocuted, hanged, beaten, have their throats slashed, or are boiled or burnt to death.”
Just imagine a television cooking show in the Koreas: “Today, folks, we’re going to take this adorable little beagle with the cute, waggly tail and the big trusting eyes, put him through the blender, and then braise the beagle bits to a nice golden brown…”
The mascot for the Korean Winter Olympics is the Korean white tiger. Perhaps after the games he, too, will be eaten.
Another public relations issue and plumbing challenge at the Korean Olympics is the norovirus is spreading among staffers and possibly competitors. Norovirus, as you remember, is a Latin medical term which means “puking your guts up.”
The source of the current strain is unknown. Perhaps the puppies weren’t cooked properly.
Oh, yes, let us all be enlightened by the spirit of the Olympics.
-30-
Thursday, February 8, 2018
Song of the Vulgar Boatmen (a Russia series, 17) - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Where is my sunblock? Where!
Over by the sodas – there!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
It won’t start, Dad – %^&*!
Where is my +*^% phone? Where!
There by your fishing hat - There!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Watch those tree stumps! Where?
&%#*ing tree stumps! *@#$!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Drift to that cove, now – there!
Cut the engine, now – shhhh!
Where are them fish, then - $#@%!
They ain’t here, Dad – *&^%!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – &#%&!
(Chorus fades as the sun sets over Tovarisch Bubba’s Bait, Beer, ‘n’ Borscht)
mhall46184@aol.com
Song of the Vulgar Boatmen
(In which good fellowship between Russians and Americans is probably not advanced)
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Where is my sunblock? Where!
Over by the sodas – there!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
It won’t start, Dad – %^&*!
Where is my +*^% phone? Where!
There by your fishing hat - There!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Watch those tree stumps! Where?
&%#*ing tree stumps! *@#$!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!
Drift to that cove, now – there!
Cut the engine, now – shhhh!
Where are them fish, then - $#@%!
They ain’t here, Dad – *&^%!
Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – &#%&!
(Chorus fades as the sun sets over Tovarisch Bubba’s Bait, Beer, ‘n’ Borscht)
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Civilization Requires a Little Effort (a Russia Series, 16) - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Civilization requires a little effort
Ties must be knotted correctly, shoes must be polished
Cuffs must be linked, but not at all gaudily -
Elegant understatement at all times
On every occasion say, “Thank you” and “Please”
When addressing a lady one’s hat is off
And if tomorrow they are going to shoot you
Or beat you to death in a re-named street
Do comb your hair, and try to stand up straight -
Civilization requires a little effort
mhall46184@aol.com
Civilization Requires a Little Effort
Upon reading Amon Towles’
A Gentleman in Moscow
Civilization requires a little effort
Ties must be knotted correctly, shoes must be polished
Cuffs must be linked, but not at all gaudily -
Elegant understatement at all times
On every occasion say, “Thank you” and “Please”
When addressing a lady one’s hat is off
And if tomorrow they are going to shoot you
Or beat you to death in a re-named street
Do comb your hair, and try to stand up straight -
Civilization requires a little effort
"Sounds, and Sweet Airs..." - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Be not
Afraid
Iambs
Are just
The way
We speak
They are
Our natch
Ural
Rhythm
Or:
Be not afraid; iambs are just the way
We speak; they are our natural rhythm 1
Sometimes they must be squashed a bit, and then
(Hear “natural” as two syllables, a pair
Othertimes “natural” is read as three) –
Be a skilled artist in your poetry!
1 “Rhythm” is a trochee, not an iamb
But let it stay, that poor, little lost lamb
mhall46184@aol.com
“Sounds, and Sweet Airs…”
Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.
The Tempest III.ii.129-130
Be not
Afraid
Iambs
Are just
The way
We speak
They are
Our natch
Ural
Rhythm
Or:
Be not afraid; iambs are just the way
We speak; they are our natural rhythm 1
Sometimes they must be squashed a bit, and then
(Hear “natural” as two syllables, a pair
Othertimes “natural” is read as three) –
Be a skilled artist in your poetry!
1 “Rhythm” is a trochee, not an iamb
But let it stay, that poor, little lost lamb
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
More Former People (a Russia series, 15)
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
You see them, sometimes, lurking in the shadows
Slipping away furtively, trying not to be seen
They’d rather clutch a volume of Dostoyevsky
Than try to act like good, plain, honest folks
They always thought they were something special
Always thinking about stuff, reading books
Not chanting the day’s slogans when they’re told
Not joining in, still thinking the old thoughts
We don’t need them. Our Leader will provide
You see us, sometimes, dying for ration books
mhall46184@aol.com
More Former People
You see them, sometimes, lurking in the shadows
Slipping away furtively, trying not to be seen
They’d rather clutch a volume of Dostoyevsky
Than try to act like good, plain, honest folks
They always thought they were something special
Always thinking about stuff, reading books
Not chanting the day’s slogans when they’re told
Not joining in, still thinking the old thoughts
We don’t need them. Our Leader will provide
You see us, sometimes, dying for ration books
The Natural Curiosity of Lot's Wife - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
When Lot’s wife shook with
Anger or fear, and looked back -
What there did she see?
mhall46184@aol.com
The Natural Curiosity of Lot’s Wife
When Lot’s wife shook with
Anger or fear, and looked back -
What there did she see?
Monday, February 5, 2018
Former People (a Russian series, 14) - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
For W. K. Kortas
We Former People have no reputation
So we are free to starve to death in peace
Or if we are unsightly in the street
Free rides to The Palace of Workers’ Justice
We might be beaten, we might be given a meal
Before we’re freed to a courtyard echoing
With the rattle of mop buckets and screams
And stood in liberating rows and shot
In glorious sacrifice to the Cause
Of progress and equality for all
mhall46184@aol.com
Former People
For W. K. Kortas
We Former People have no reputation
So we are free to starve to death in peace
Or if we are unsightly in the street
Free rides to The Palace of Workers’ Justice
We might be beaten, we might be given a meal
Before we’re freed to a courtyard echoing
With the rattle of mop buckets and screams
And stood in liberating rows and shot
In glorious sacrifice to the Cause
Of progress and equality for all
Jean Paul Sartre and Francis Thompson Walk into a Bar - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Jean Paul Sartre and Francis Thompson Walk into a Bar...
I fled it, down the minutes and down the hours 2
I fled it, from each InterGossip troll
I fled it, despairing, with weakening powers
But I could not escape the super bowl
1 No Exit, Jean Paul Sartre
2 “The Hound of Heaven,” Francis Thompson
(I recused myself from the annual high holy day liturgy sacred to the Republic, but can't escape the morning-after conversations.)
mhall46184@aol.com
Jean Paul Sartre and Francis Thompson Walk into a Bar...
No Exit 1
I fled it, down the minutes and down the hours 2
I fled it, from each InterGossip troll
I fled it, despairing, with weakening powers
But I could not escape the super bowl
1 No Exit, Jean Paul Sartre
2 “The Hound of Heaven,” Francis Thompson
(I recused myself from the annual high holy day liturgy sacred to the Republic, but can't escape the morning-after conversations.)
Sunday, February 4, 2018
A Letter from Ekaterinburg (a Russia series, 13) - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Dormition of the Theotokos
1917
Dear Alexei,
We are enjoying a beautiful summer –
The days have been perfect ever since spring
Cooler mornings now, and that’s about it -
Nothing exciting ever happens here
How is the new government working out?
Some of the banknotes are overprinted
With vague slogans covering the Czar, but
Nothing exciting ever happens here
Petrograd must be exciting for you, but
Nothing exciting ever happens here.
Write soon,
-Mitya
mhall46184@aol.com
A Letter from Ekaterinburg
Dormition of the Theotokos
1917
Dear Alexei,
We are enjoying a beautiful summer –
The days have been perfect ever since spring
Cooler mornings now, and that’s about it -
Nothing exciting ever happens here
How is the new government working out?
Some of the banknotes are overprinted
With vague slogans covering the Czar, but
Nothing exciting ever happens here
Petrograd must be exciting for you, but
Nothing exciting ever happens here.
Write soon,
-Mitya
"One of the Only" - poem
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Why do men write of “one of the only”
Since one is only, and only is one
A singular figure, alone and lonely
“One of the only?” Oh, let it be done
With.
mhall46184@aol.com
“One of the Only”
Why do men write of “one of the only”
Since one is only, and only is one
A singular figure, alone and lonely
“One of the only?” Oh, let it be done
With.
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Uncle Vanya and Lady Godiva (A Russia Series, 12)
Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Uncle Vanya came strolling down the road
Wishing he had made something of his life
His young friend Anne loquaciously agreed
And with remarkable vehemence urged
him to endeavour to remediate his perceived inadequacies in the many precedent matters that burdened him…
Don Quixote suggested that worries were giants
Cassandra said, “There is only one page left”
Nick Adams whispered, “Shh! You’ll scare the fish!”
Ambrose Silk asked the way to the world’s end
And young Lady Godiva, sans chemise
Outsourced her image on souvenir tees
mhall46184@aol.com
Uncle Vanya and Lady Godiva
Uncle Vanya came strolling down the road
Wishing he had made something of his life
His young friend Anne loquaciously agreed
And with remarkable vehemence urged
him to endeavour to remediate his perceived inadequacies in the many precedent matters that burdened him…
Don Quixote suggested that worries were giants
Cassandra said, “There is only one page left”
Nick Adams whispered, “Shh! You’ll scare the fish!”
Ambrose Silk asked the way to the world’s end
And young Lady Godiva, sans chemise
Outsourced her image on souvenir tees
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
