Monday, December 23, 2019

Christmas is Awkward - a poem for Christmas Eve-Eve

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Christmas is Awkward

(Don’t forget the codfish and oysters)

A stagecoach rattles its way to Dingley Dell
Along ice-rutted roads, with bugle calls
To alert the station ahead of needs
Especially horses and brandy hot

A coach-top ride in the cold of dawn is better
Than traffic jams along the interstate
Mandatory merriment on the radio
Desperate greetings at the old home place

The door is hardly closed when an auntie asks,
“And is there someone special in your life?”

Sunday, December 22, 2019

Three Young People on Television Discuss Climate Change - not exactly a poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Three Young People on Television Discuss Climate Change

like, whoa, like, totally, like, a thing, like, panic, like, scientists have concluded, like, eleven years, like, for sure, actually, kinda, like, actually, adults don’t realize, adults don’t believe, the top scientists around the world, like, I’ll be 29, like, my planet’s going to die, like, that’s a really scary fact, like, absolutely, if we don’t make changes, definitely, climate change, definitely, so, like, snow in May, definitely, like, climate change, like our house is on fire, our government is not treating this, absolutely, on a whole, they’re not taking this seriously, climate action now, promoting, we want them to, so, um, us youth are going to be the ones, um, make sense of the mess, like, listen to me, listen to the youth, making changes, like, back burner, like, places around the world, actually, you need to start listening to young people, you need to listen to science, like, this is a crisis, we should be calling this a crisis, um, like, we need, um, like, to step back, um, and, like, subsidized, like, green energy, I feel that, like, we need to lower the voting age to 16 like I can drive a car like young generation like educating the youth like they tell us at school like I know about politics like my research absolutely not lots of teachers bring it up many people don’t have access to that…

Truthless at Almost Midnight - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Truthless at Almost Midnight


“Only the solitary seek the truth,
and they break with all those who don't love it sufficiently.”

― Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago


A problem is that you might break with those
Who do not love the truth, and then you find
That you don’t seem to love it much yourself
And then the truth - it doesn’t love you at all

If you talk to the walls, they don’t talk back
The magic realism of poverty
Is no magic at all, and you are alone
With neither friends nor truth, only the walls

A problem is that you might break with

                                                                 everything

Saturday, December 21, 2019

"We Are All Pursued by Bears, Mr. Hall!" - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

“We Are All Pursued by Bears, Mr. Hall!”

-Emily Grace Wilkinson
Encouraged by Amanda Paige Smith
Two of my merriest students,
alluding to Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale

And so we are - by bears of destiny
Instead of strident men contemptuously
Bears of our dreams, bears of our own night-bears
Who snuffling ask, “Don’t you remember me?”

And who can bear it? Remembrances there
Of an unfortunate long-ago bear
Whom we casually dismissed without a care
The bear was sent off-stage - it was unfair!

We bear the cares of life, oh, don’t you see -
We are pursued by bears of destiny

Or is it hamsters…penguins…three-toed sloths…?

Indo-China was my first University - very short poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com


Indo-China was my first University

The barracks were my university
As were the camps and fields and each grim night
But when I went to university
I found a place to write

Friday, December 20, 2019

Solitary Definement - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Solitary Definement

Your cell cannot be opened from within
Because that is the nature of a cell
Because that is the function of a cell
That one is kept within and not without

“SILENCE!”

Someone outside will have to open the cell
Having ordered the jailer to go away
To wherever it is that jailers go
He will open the door to a sudden fear:

“SILENCE!”

Your individual defense perimeter
Will cease to be a definition. What then?

silence

Empowered - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Empowered

Her name is Lexus-Ferragamo Smith
Her mother tells her that she is unique
And the television tells her that too
On the talk shows and game shows, all day long

The Fifth Joyful Mystery - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

The Fifth Joyful Mystery

May we all be found
In that high Temple someday
In spite of ourselves

Thursday, December 19, 2019

Merr//(y^^Chr{i{[s))t,mas//( - not really a poem, but a grocery bag is involved

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Merr//(y^^Chr{i{[s))t,mas//(

Red and green smears on a crinkled plastic bag
One doesn’t need to read the words to know -
Higher-order thinking skills from the third grade
Lead the thoughtful passerby to infer
That the flying grocery bag wishes us
A Merry Christmas. Does anyone ever stop
To read a plastic bag? If the red and green
Lettering communicated Eat Poop
And Die would anyone notice? But the bag
The disposable bag disposed indeed
Skitters along the December highway
Tormented by the ragged slipstream of
Every muddy Christmas automobile

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

We Boast the Largest War Machine in the World - poem (screed, really)

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

We Boast the Largest War Machine in the World

We boast the largest war machine in the world:
Our long-range bombers dominate the skies
Our battle fleets roam all the planet’s seas
Our soldiers’ boots tread on God’s ancient lands

We boast the largest cash machine in the world:
Our bold young technonaires build palaces
Industrialists buy ever-larger yachts
Prelates fly first-class and enrich themselves

While disdained armies of our desperate poor
Sleep in the streets of our City on a Hill

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

Mr. Krueger's Christmas - a movie review

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Mr. Krueger’s Christmas

A friend referred y’r ‘umble scrivener to a James Stewart film until now unknown to him, Mr. Krueger’s Christmas, a gift of the Mormons in 1980. Although the little movie is only 25 minutes long, it is a joy, a gift indeed.

Set in a vaguely 1950’s that perhaps never was, the story is about Willy Krueger, an elderly widower who is the custodian of an apartment building. As with the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks in the fields, Mr. Krueger’s work is humble and not much appreciated: immediately after he has swept the lobby clean for the night a tenant comes through to the elevators dragging a large Christmas tree that drops debris all over the floor.

Yeah, Merry Christmas, Mr. Krueger.

After his work is done Mr. Krueger settles in with his cat George (an allusion to It’s a Wonderful Life) to keep Christmas alone. He sets a record album of Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas music on the hi-fi.

And then, like Scrooge, he begins having dreams; unlike Scrooge, Mr. Krueger’s dreams are happy ones.

He finds himself, in his shabby old clothes, directing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and it is great fun for all, especially the choir themselves.

In another scene Mr. Krueger imagines himself in a fashionable gentlemen’s clothier being fitted for the kind of suit he could never afford for real.

And in yet another scene he follows carolers through the snowy streets, which includes a lovely set piece complete with dancers.

The carolers are real, though, and he retrieves the mittens a little girl has lost. When mother and daughter later come for the mittens, the little girl, Clarissa (an echo of Tchaikovsky’s Clara?), says to Mr. Krueger, “You hung them on the Christmas tree?”

Mr. Krueger replies, “Well, you remind me of everything good about Christmas so I just couldn't think of a better place…here you are.”

The most moving scene is when Mr. Krueger finds himself in the Stable – yes, that Stable – on the first Christmas. Of all the beings, humans and angels and animals, the only one aware of his presence is the Infant Jesus.

Mr. Krueger approaches the Child in awe and with slow steps, and hesitantly begins to speak. Mr. Krueger, through James Stewart one of the best monologues he ever filmed, thanks Jesus. Although Mr. Krueger is widowed and alone, and lives in a small basement apartment that comes with his cleaning job, he is grateful to God for everything: “As long as I can remember You've been right by my side.”

And the Child smiles at him.

Mr. Kreuger awakens back in the apartment, George the cat meows, and Mr. Krueger says, “Yeah, I guess you're right George; we better trim that tree. If we don't hurry, we'll be too late!”

The narrator concludes the film with: “‘I love you.’ That's what Christmas is all about... Clarissa said it to Mr. Krueger; Mr. Krueger said it to Jesus; and Jesus in so many ways said it to all of us.”

-30-

Censorship Sends us to Literature - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Censorship Sends us to Literature

Those poor oppressors – oh, how sad they are!
They cut and paste our words to match their scripts
They make books disappear from the GossipNet
They empty libraries of toxic texts

And yet

Ahkmatova and Solzhenitsyn live
With Pasternak and Thomas Mann, Remarque
Proust, Werfel, Hesse, Grossman, and Milosz
On shelves, in hands, before our grateful eyes

Oppression makes the game more interesting
Because it leads us to great works of art

If You Enjoyed this Poem, Why Not... - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com


If You Enjoyed this Poem, Why Not…

-as The Paris Review often says

Construct your work with focus and intent
Through your assemblages of nouns and verbs
Whose rhythms strengthen as they help each other
Build truth and beauty from materials found

Then sculpt your work, and chip and throw away
Empowerment, self-pity, bridges, walls
First-person pronouns and hashtaggery
Adverbs, and those worn-out gossamer wings

(After all, you don’t even know what gossamer is)

Construct your work with focus and intent
Then sculpt your work, and chip and throw away

Monday, December 16, 2019

When All is Said and Done - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

When All is Said and Done

When all is said and done
Then all is said and done

Everybody, go home now

The Icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

The Icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa

Upon the Luminous Mountain a bell
Calls all of us to Our Lady’s wounded Heart
She looks at us with sorrow in her eyes
Her scars are like the tears that we should weep

Savaged less by the Hussite than by our sins
Pierced less by the Tartar than by our faults
Scorned less by the Nazi and the Soviet
Than by our callous, fashionable neglect

O let us hear the calling of that bell -
It sings us to Our Lady’s loving heart

Sunday, December 15, 2019

About Comments - I haven't figured that out yet...

A friend mentioned trying to post comments on poeticdrivel.blogspot.com but without success.  I apologize; I'm trying to make that function work, but I have yet figured it out.  Thanks for writing, and do try again.

There is no Time after Time - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

There is no Time after Time

“…time…simply stopped moving, and remained idle”

-Yevgeny Vodolazkin, Laurus, p. 167

Having forgotten my wristwatch at home
I stopped at a dime store to buy one cheap
But they didn’t have any watches to sell
“You might try Wal-Mart,” the clerk suggested

Having forgotten my wristwatch at home
I didn’t have time to drive to Wal-Mart
And so I didn’t have time on my hands
But I wanted to meet my friend on time

The dashboard radio showed me the hour
And lunch with my thoughtful friend was without time

Lightly, from a Star - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com


Lightly, from a Star


"All men by nature seek for knowledge"

-attributed to Aristotle


The hopeful idea that all men seek for knowledge
Is not readily demonstrable just now
For many seem to be enwrith’ed in
A hangman’s loop of self-validation

An Ouroboros or Jormungandr
Not of infinity but finity
Who looks into a shadowy cave-pool
And sees only himself fading away

The hopeful idea that all men seek for knowledge
Must fall upon them lightly, from a Star


Exposition is probably unnecessary, but just in case:

Line 4 – Judas and spiritual suicide through obsession with autonomy
Line 5 – Egyptian / Greek and Nordic images of infinity, a serpent feeding on its own tail
Line 6 – but for a man to presume infinity in himself is vain and self-destructive
Line 7 – Plato’s cave and Gollum’s cave
Line 8 – the fatuity of presuming freedom from God, without Whom there is no self
Line 10 – the Christmas star – Light / everything is of God

Saturday, December 14, 2019

Middlebrow Poetry - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Middlebrow Poetry

But then, how now? Who has a middle brow?
You couldn’t fit a poem there anyhow
No one even thought of such until now -
It is a concept that we must disallow

He Owes a Good Deal to the Past - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

He Owes a Good Deal to the Past

He owes a good deal to the past - well, yes,
As do we all: DNA, the printing press
Words, books, art, music, ice cream, apple trees
Sunday suits, John Ford movies, honeybees

Food, flowers, clothing, the first day of school
Summer lawns, autumn leaves, the neighbor’s pool
Fishing, wishing, stargazing, that first crush
(The memory of which makes you almost blush)

We owe a good deal to the past - and so
The past is a blessing, wherever we go