Thursday, October 8, 2020

Robinson Crusoe Orders a Generator from Amazon.com

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Robinson Crusoe Orders a Generator from Amazon.com

 

Another hurricane, warning or watch

One forgets which while clearing off the lawns

Of chairs and toys and all the summer dreams

And giving the generator its monthly run

 

In practiced unison we again recite

The liturgies of flashlight batteries

Bottled water, paper plates and plastic sporks

And Meals-Ready-To-Eat, though they really aren’t

 

Another hurricane, warning or watch -

And maybe just an inch or two of Scotch

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

A Soup

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Soup

 

A soup is just a little can of soup

Available in the prison commissary

A little warmth to get you through the night

If there is anything in your account

 

A little jar of powdered instant coffee

Available in the prison commissary

A ceremony of innocence, as Yeats would say

If there is anything in your account

 

And wakefulness at 0200, a hope -

If there is anything in that account

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Venus, MePhone Photograph 6 October 2020


 

Mars, MePhone Photograph 6 October 2020

 


An Old Man on a Balcony, Gasping for Breath

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Old Man on a Balcony, Gasping for Breath

 

Those he commands move only in command,

Nothing in love

 

                   -Macbeth V.ii.19-20

 

The city and the nation seem to ignore him

He stands irresolutely, heaving his shoulders

Twitching his lips, fidgeting with his coat

Behind his embalmers’ makeup seeking breath

 

There are no happy cheering crowds tonight

He waves only to a departing helicopter

And salutes the ghosts of what might have been

Before turning away, inside, to the silence

 

The people talk about him, but not to him

If they did, he would not listen - he is alone

Monday, October 5, 2020

The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus

 

Garage-sale-blocked again, the one-lane road

Hosts cars on both sides, and oxygened-men

Defiantly aluminum-caning the middle

In their Quixotic quest for eternal youth

 

The BeeGees, Duck Dynasty, and Jesus

On collectible plates and VHS tapes

Marilyn and Elvis bourbon decanters

Chinese-made MAGA caps in camouflage

 

“They just don’t make things like they used to do” -

Which is true, indeed, for them, and me, and you

Sunday, October 4, 2020

Supervising Elections in an Underdeveloped Nation

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Supervising Elections in an Underdeveloped Nation

 

It well may be that civilized nations

Will send us soldiers to patrol our rubbled streets

And at each poll post tanks and squads of men

To ensure that our elections are fair

 

Their soldiers will pat our children on their heads

And give them chocolate bars and chewing gum

While practicing their Americanese from little books:

“Where is please coffee shop thank you we are friends”

 

And propping up each mayor and governor here

A sturdy German, Pole, or Czech will stand

                                                                   (and sneer)

 

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/justice-dept-fbi-planning-for-the-possibility-of-election-day-violence-voting-disruptions/ar-BB19E6tq?li=BBnbfcL

Friday, October 2, 2020

If You Sing a Song and No One Hears It

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

If You Sing a Song and No One Hears It

 

If you sing a song and no one hears it

          The song is heard

If you write a poem and no one reads it

          The poem is read

If you draw a picture and no one sees it

          The picture is seen

If you read a book and no one knows it

          The book is known

If you speak of love, and there is no love –

          Oh, yes, there is

 

When you give something to the universe

It was given to you first

And you have kindly sent it on

Thursday, October 1, 2020

Ceilings Breaking Glass Icons

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Ceilings Breaking Glass Icons

 

Newsies, both in print and on the telescreens, seem unable to refer to anyone who has died as other than an icon. As a metaphor, this never worked well anyway, as an icon is a two-dimension painting or drawing – the Orthodox term is “written” – of a religious figure for inspiration.  Obviously a human being, alive or dead, cannot be an icon in any meaningful sense, although he or she might someday appear on an icon after ecclesiastical investigation, documentation, and recognition a life of recognized saintliness.  But since the metaphor has been spun out daily for years, possibly decades, it is time to let it go.

 

“Icon” has long since joined “give you the shirt off his back,” “never met a stranger,” “his word was his bond,” “they broke the mold when they made him,” and other funerary imagery as filler-language that says nothing. If we mean to praise someone, let us do so in good, plain, declarative sentences, and forego all the babble that everyone trots out for everyone else.

 

In the run-up to All Souls and All Saints, secularized as “Halloween” with its purportedly pagan Celtic origins, “Spooktacular” infests advertisements as a variation of “spectacular.” Every advertisement and every fund-raiser is gas-filled by dull and lazy writers as “spooktacular.” Please, don’t. Just don’t.

 

Another contemporary failure in speaking and writing is the excessive use of adjectives and adverbs. Or to put it in another way, “Another absolutely contemporary failure, actually, in actually speaking and actually writing, actually, is the unnecessary excessive and repetitive and pointless use of so many overwhelmingly redundant adjectives and really and truly excessive adverbs, actually.”

 

The best way to say something is to do so without any adjectives and adverbs, in the plainest way possible, and so clearly that it cannot be taken as meaning anything other than what the speaker intended.

 

And while your ‘umble scrivener is being grumpy, let’s also get rid of that “he must have had a pre-existing condition” thing as a weak deflection when discussing the CV. We all have pre-existing conditions; no one is perfect physically. Some people say “pre-existing condition” as if 200,000+ of our fellow pilgrims here on earth deserved to die. If a child is eaten by an alligator someone will defend the alligator’s violence with, “well, the kid had a pre-existing condition,” and of course “the alligators were here first.”

 

Use the brain God gave you. Wear your mask. Keep your distance. Act right. Wash. This is real.

 

-30-

 

The Cruise of HMS Disreputable

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

https://poeticdrivel.blogspot.com/

 

The Cruise of HMS Disreputable

 

                                             For myself,

I knew as soon as I could read and write

That I must be a poet.

 

-Sir John Betjeman

 

I left Mesquite and broken promises

In the after-market rear-view mirror

Bolted to the wing of my third-hand MG

And rattled along that magic road to the west

 

Sleeping bag, Olivetti portable

Dostoyevsky, Yevtushenko, some clothes

An honorable discharge from a dishonorable war

A few undistinguished undergraduate credits

 

And now…

 

I have left behind my Nobel acceptance speech

Because the journey will have to be enough

 

 

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Bitter Old Men Yelping at Each Other

 

 

Bitter Old Men Yelping at Each Other

 

(rather like some of the in-laws over Christmas dinner)

 

 

“Language, the home and receptacle of beauty and meaning….”

 

-Doctor Zhivago, p. 437

 

 

My country, ‘tis of thee

 

     “Get out of your bunker and get out of the sand trap!”

 

Sweet land of liberty

 

     “What do you want to call them? Give me a name. Give me a name!”

 

Of thee I sing

 

     “It’s hard to get a word in with this clown.”

 

Land where my fathers died

 

     Proud Boys, stand back and stand by!”

 

Land of the pilgrims’ pride

 

     “He’s Putin’s puppet!”

 

From every mountain side

 

     “You can’t even say the word ‘law enforcement!’”

 

Let freedom ring

 

     “Will you shut up, man?!”

 

 

(No apologies to Samuel Francis Smith; he pinched the tune from “God Save the Queen.” As for the angry old men, they are entirely our own.)

 

Monday, September 28, 2020

We Greatly Value Your Opinion - Except When We Don't

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

 

We Greatly Value Your Opinion – Except When We Don’t

 

I. We Love Hearing from You!


Dear Book Lover,

Thank you for being a part of our panel.

We appreciate having a group of book lovers

That we can learn from! We have crafted a fun

And interactive survey related to books

 

About health, well-being, and spirituality,

And we would appreciate If you would

Take part as we greatly value your opinion.

The survey should take no longer than

 

5-10 minutes of your time. We hope

You'll participate - we love hearing from you!

Warm regards,


The Penguin Random House Reader Insight Team

 

II. We’re Looking for a Different Type [sniff] of Reader

 

Thank you for your interest in participating.

We're looking for a different type of reader

For this survey, but we hope to hear from you

Another time!

Sunday, September 27, 2020

To a Ball-Cap Commando Wearing his Semi-Automatic Albatross

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

 

To a Ball-Cap Commando Wearing his Semi-Automatic Albatross

 

Instead of the cross, the albatross
About my neck was hung

 

-Coleridge, Rime of the Ancient Mariner

 

An albatross seems hung from around your neck

Or maybe you are hugging it to your heart

That steel and plastic engine of death-tech

That seductive vanity of satanic art

 

Where are you strutting with your deadly toy?

Why are you posing like a comic-book commando?

Oh, be a man, and not a dullard boy

You’re ‘way too old to play at G.I. Joe

 

There’s anger enough, and no more hate to give -

That albatross: get rid of it

                                                            and live

Saturday, September 26, 2020

The Petrograd Paradigm - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

 

The Petrograd Paradigm

 

He has more than a touch of Komarovsky

Loyal to nothing but his appetites

Cigars, sensualties, sins, and souls

All of them casually disposable

 

He gives more than a touch of Komarovsky

He whips the dogs, and tests the snow to know

If it blows from the east or from the west

And throws his latest values to the wolves

 

He takes more than a touch of Komarovsky

Asking the oldest question: “What’s in it for me?”

Friday, September 25, 2020

Decolonize Unpacking Actualization

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

 

Decolonize Unpacking Actualization

 

Let’s unpack the cliches and hyperbole

The nuclear option and we’ve got this

What we know now we have our options frontline

Off the table Armageddon option

 

Privileged out of an abundance of caution

Like an actual warzone actually

Or forging a road, a path, a plan

(Says he who never saw a blacksmith’s forge)

 

Decolonize decolonization

And actuate actualization

 

(By blazing a trail that unlocks the future)

Kristin Hannah's Winter Garden, Sort Of

Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ Kristin Hannah’s Winter Garden, Sort Of Not, not mine: it’s somebody else’s wound. I could have have borne it. So take the thing That happened, hide it, stick it in the ground. Whisk the lamps away… Night. -Anna Akhmatova, As quoted by Kristin Hannah One day this summer I (masked) was in the drugstore for my monthly refill, and the pharmacist, James Lee Elliott (also masked), asked me what I was reading lately. I mentioned my recent fondness for poetry, especially English and Russian (in translation, of course), which like any American lad I had despised in my callow youth. Take a boy who loves Robin Hood and mindless cowboy shoot-‘em-ups and place before him names like Edna St. Vincent Millay, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Algernon Swinburne, and Dante Gabriel Rosetti and you will encounter fierce resistance. If they had been named Kitty, Rocky, Shotgun, and Lefty, maybe not. James Lee mentioned that he really liked Kristin Hannah’s novels, which I pooh-poohed as chick-lit. He assured me that they are really good, and that with my love of Russian literature I would appreciate Winter Garden, parts of which are set in Leningrad (nee’ Saint Petersburg then Petrograd then Leningrad and now Saint Petersburg again, as is right and just). In the event I gave the book a quick look when the local Barnes & Noble reopened. To me (here I risk the stern disapproval of Kristin Hannah’s many fans), the characters seem to be two-dimensional wish-fulfillment stereotypes, and the writer describes a morning sky as “cerulean” (p. 53), the favorite adjective of every beginning poet. Bad enough, but then there’s this line: “Take me to bed, Daniel Flynn. Get me through this night” (37). Daniel Flynn did not flee, but I did, and put the book back. And then James Lee died. As a health care professional he served the needs of dozens of people every day, and at some point caught the corona virus while performing the duties God expected of him. In doing so became one of the 200,000 Americans (so far) to die of a pestilence which millions of other Americans deny exists. He was my merry pharmacist. I taught his children. We were speaking of books and ribbing each other one day, and then within a few weeks he was dead. I went back to Barnes & Noble and bought the book James Lee had recommended. And I still didn’t like it. James Lee mentioned that much of Winter Garden is set in Leningrad, so I went in search of those bits and was much rewarded in them. Here I must praise Kristin Hannah for her thorough research into Leningrad and The 900 Days, and for her brilliant – brilliant – rendering of a woman and her children enduring the obscene cruelties of Communism and then the even more obscene Nazi siege. Most of them die – Hannah spares the reader none of the horrors. When the grandmother succumbs to cold and starvation, the protagonist writes, “Thankfully, Sasha is in the army, so we only have to stand in line a few hours for a death certificate” (341). That was Leningrad in 1941; in contemporary America the family of another friend who died of the CV had to wait months for a death certificate, without which they could not bury him. And, no, I’m not comparing The 900 Days with the CV; I simply make an observation. I wish Kristin Hannah had centered her story in Leningrad instead of framing the strongest and most skilled narrative only as an expository device to explain the behaviors of the modern characters. She has a gift for serious historical research and then building good, solid fictional narratives upon that research. Winter Garden is certainly worth reading for that. And she quotes the great Anna Ahkmatova - how many American writers do that? Thank you, Kristin Hannah, and thank you, James Lee Elliott, for good parenting, good pharmacy-ing, good reading, and good fun. “Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and make perpetual Light to shine upon him.” -30-

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Okay, looking for a free blogger matrix that works - suggestions, anyone?

Bumper Cars, Airlines, Soldiers, Alligators, Children, and You - third attempt

Lawrence Hall, HSG Mhall46184@aol.com Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Underground Bumper Cars, Airline Employees, Soldiers, Alligators, Children, and You According to Observer.com, A subsidiary of Elon Musk is constructing tunnels under Las Vegas so that people may be shuttled via robotic cars from one shuttered location to another shuttered location. The first part of the route is to open in 2021, but only virtually. I suppose “virtually” means you can watch it on television, so what’s the point? The subsidiary is named The Boring Company, which seems appropriate. And if you ever get to be shuttled around beneath the earth, what about the danger from giant radioactive worms and the Lizard People? + + + The Wall Street Journal reports that beginning in October airlines will have to start laying off thousands of employees. I suppose after that they will show up at your door and charge you $25 for each extra suitcase you own. But if they ask for something to eat you can tell them that you ran out of lunch entrees 20 rows back and coffee 10 rows back, just like Air Canada. + + + So far this year 28 soldiers have died or been murdered at Fort Hood. And still there are people who think conscription should be reinstated. They mean your children, not theirs. + + + Numerous sources have reported on a 12- or 13-foot alligator swimming through someone’s yard in Pensacola during the recent wild rains. There is a remedy for an alligator in one’s yard, but you’ll go to prison for it. After all, alligators were here first (chant it as a mantra). If the alligator eats your child, someone will dismiss your baby’s life with, “Oh, well, the kid had a pre-existing condition.” Everyone has a pre-existing condition; there are no flawless humans. The way some people say “pre-existing condition” seems to infer that the victim had it coming. + + + Far away and long ago I had occasion to wear a steel helmet to help protect my life. I did not complain about it or say that it made me look silly (I look silly anyway), and I did not feel that my 1st Amendment rights were being violated. True, the helmet would not have protected me from a 40-mike-mike. It wasn’t meant to. Far away and long ago I had occasion also to wear a flak jacket. True, the flak jacket would not have protected me from a mortar round. It wasn’t meant to. When I worked offshore I wore a nifty plastic helmet. True, the hard hat would not have protected me from a falling beam. It wasn’t meant to. When I worked my way through school as an LVN (I was the first male LVN I ever knew; I suppose there was a glass ceiling or glass floor or something) I sometimes had occasion to wear a mask to help protect patients. And you can bet that I made sure that protection happened. And now I wear a patriotic Texas Lone Star mask in order to help protect others. True, it is no defense against rocket grenades, mortar rounds, or falling beams, but it is a part of one’s personal defensive perimeter, along with good hygiene and distancing. Wear the mask. It’s not about you; it’s about the vulnerable. -30-

Bumper Cars, Airlines, Soldiers, Alligators, Children, and You - second attempt

Lawrence Hall, HSG Mhall46184@aol.com Poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Underground Bumper Cars, Airline Employees, Soldiers, Alligators, Children, and You According to Observer.com, A subsidiary of Elon Musk is constructing tunnels under Las Vegas so that people may be shuttled via robotic cars from one shuttered location to another shuttered location. The first part of the route is to open in 2021, but only virtually. I suppose “virtually” means you can watch it on television, so what’s the point? The subsidiary is named The Boring Company, which seems appropriate. And if you ever get to be shuttled around beneath the earth, what about the danger from giant radioactive worms and the Lizard People? + + + The Wall Street Journal reports that beginning in October airlines will have to start laying off thousands of employees. I suppose after that they will show up at your door and charge you $25 for each extra suitcase you own. But if they ask for something to eat you can tell them that you ran out of lunch entrees 20 rows back and coffee 10 rows back, just like Air Canada. + + + So far this year 28 soldiers have died or been murdered at Fort Hood. And still there are people who think conscription should be reinstated. They mean your children, not theirs. + + + Numerous sources have reported on a 12- or 13-foot alligator swimming through someone’s yard in Pensacola during the recent wild rains. There is a remedy for an alligator in one’s yard, but you’ll go to prison for it. After all, alligators were here first (chant it as a mantra). If the alligator eats your child, someone will dismiss your baby’s life with, “Oh, well, the kid had a pre-existing condition.” Everyone has a pre-existing condition; there are no flawless humans. The way some people say “pre-existing condition” seems to infer that the victim had it coming. + + + Far away and long ago I had occasion to wear a steel helmet to help protect my life. I did not complain about it or say that it made me look silly (I look silly anyway), and I did not feel that my 1st Amendment rights were being violated. True, the helmet would not have protected me from a 40-mike-mike. It wasn’t meant to. Far away and long ago I had occasion also to wear a flak jacket. True, the flak jacket would not have protected me from a mortar round. It wasn’t meant to. When I worked offshore I wore a nifty plastic helmet. True, the hard hat would not have protected me from a falling beam. It wasn’t meant to. When I worked my way through school as an LVN (I was the first male LVN I ever knew; I suppose there was a glass ceiling or glass floor or something) I sometimes had occasion to wear a mask to help protect patients. And you can bet that I made sure that protection happened. And now I wear a patriotic Texas Lone Star mask in order to help protect others. True, it is no defense against rocket grenades, mortar rounds, or falling beams, but it is a part of one’s personal defensive perimeter, along with good hygiene and distancing. Wear the mask. It’s not about you; it’s about the vulnerable. -30-