Saturday, August 21, 2021

A Laser Focus on Screaming Deaths - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Laser Focus on Screaming Deaths

 

Look upon my Works, ye Mighty, and despair

 

-Shelley, “Ozymandias”

 

Laser focus laser focus laser

Focus laser focus laser focus

Laser focus teens falling to their deaths

Laser focus escape for two thousand dollars

 

Laser focus or a promissory note

If the enemy overrun the airport

We’ll laser focus your refund back to you

With this laser focus degree of precision 

 

Shredded body in the laser focus

Of the wheel well

Friday, August 20, 2021

Floyd Makes a Bomb Threat at the Library of Congress - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Floyd Makes a Bomb Threat at the Library of Congress

 

No one imagines a bomber encountering

A congressman anywhere near a library

No one imagines Brother Floyd encountering

A dentist

 

Suspicious vehicle near Library of Congress; US Capitol Police | khou.com

Thursday, August 19, 2021

On the Occasion of Being Scanned by an Electro-Mechanical Device - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

On the Occasion of Being Scanned by an Electro-Mechanical Device

 

The room is softly lit, like a Star Trek Set

Mostly pale, indirect blues, occasional pinks

A large circle, like a mechanical god

Appears to be a portal spinning through time

 

DO NOT LOOK INTO THE RED LIGHT

 

The machine slides me into itself

And commands me in a soothing plastic voice

“Take a deep breath and hold it.”

[Pause]

 

DO NOT LOOK INTO THE RED LIGHT

 

“Breathe normally.”

[Pause]

“Take a deep breath and hold it.”

[Pause]

 

“Breath normally.”

 

DO NOT LOOK INTO THE RED LIGHT

 

But breathe

 

Breathe

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Signs not Found in High School Locker Rooms

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Signs not Found in High School Locker Rooms

 

There is no I in eye.

 

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take except in the “Hi, Bob!” thing, in which case maybe you should.

 

When the going gets tough, the tough think of logical alternatives.

 

We’re Number Ten!

 

Through these doors walk unhappy kids whose parents are re-living their youthful disappointments through their children.

 

That which does not kill you lowers your resistance to disease.

 

Pain is just weakness traveling to a lifetime of bone and joint clinic visits.

 

Shoot for the moon – if you miss you’ll fall screaming to your death.

 

Starving children working in contract sweat shops to make licensed team gear aren’t interested in your motivation.

 

And let’s be real – failure is always an option.

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Ode on a Coffee Urn - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ode on a Coffee Urn

 

If Keats Took His Morning Coffee

at Hub City Diner in Lafayette, Louisiana

 

Thou stainless steel bride of the day’s pale dawn

Thou foster-child of all our morning hopes

Patient historian who writes upon

The pages of our lives optimistic tropes:

 

What die-cut label hangs about thy shape

Of morning blends or sometimes darker roasts

From Jamaica’s Blue Mountain, or some further scape

Perhaps above Colombia’s green coasts

 

What men or gods are these who at Hub City can say

“What wonderful coffee for beginning the day!”

Monday, August 16, 2021

The Lone Ranger Masks Again - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Lone Ranger Masks Again

 

When I was a boy I wore my Lone Ranger mask

I even wore my Lone Ranger mask to school

Where mean ol’ Miz Griggs made me take it off

But now I may (as opposed to “can”) wear my mask

 

Indeed, I must wear a mask, and so, ha!

Ya can’t make me take it off now, Miz Griggs!

I can wear my Lone Ranger mask, so boo-hoo!

Me and the Lone Ranger, we ride again!

 

Only…the problem is…I’m not in school

 

Rats

Sunday, August 15, 2021

Back to School - weekly column 15 August 2021 (much of this is recycled from 2017)

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Random Thoughts about the First Day of School

 

For the past month there has not been a newspaper, radio station, or television station in this great land of saints and scholars that refrained from employing the cringe-making wheeze, “School is gearing up.”

 

No, school is not gearing up.  It has never geared up.  It will never gear up,  except maybe in Cousin Les’ auto shop class.  Let us make our first lesson of the Michaelmas term a caution against using tired metaphors.

 

Adverbs also obscure meaning.  There is no adverb less useful than “actually.”  After all, one cannot “unactually” do something.  And then there is “absolutely,” a useless four-syllable construction meaning “yes.”  Say “yes” to clear usage.

 

Back-to-school ads feature adorable little kidlets with big grins modelling the cooler-than-cool new shirts and skirts and jeans and sneaks, and maybe a notebook.  The children in school ads never carry, oh, you know, books.  Have you ever seen a b-t-s ad in which the kid was carrying a copy of The Brothers Karamazov or The Road to Magdalena or maybe a Jane Austen?  Nope, and you won’t see those books in the kid’s house, either; a big ol’ television the size of Rhode Island is the usual home altar and cultural center now. Who needs 2,000 years of Christian scholarship, music, and art when everyone can now lapse into a fuzzy-eyed stasis, the Lot’s-wife-as-a-pillar-of-salt thing, in front of the latest episode of Flip This Dancing House Cooking Show off the Island of Machine Gun Fire and Dead Bodies?

 

Is there a Texas Education Agency rule that school administrators must shave their heads and grow odd tufts of hair on their chins?

 

Dress codes and professional demeanor are issues that really annoy principals: slovenly clothes, weird hair, gang signs, flip-flops, tattoos, cartoon tee shirts, tardiness, inappropriate language – and that’s the faculty; the kids tend to do better.

 

Just a joke, guys, just a joke.

 

Did you know that algebra is now taught in junior high middle school? 

 

Algebra is not in the Bible, though. Jesus never said, “Solve for X.” Tell Mr. Romano that.

 

Mr. Randolph is an expert in band shoes.

 

Parents, do you know that your daughter can learn to weld in high school? 

 

Do you know that your son can escape the microwave bubble and learn real cookery in high school?

 

Kids, do you know that Julius Caesar and Macbeth are about American politics and layered with Christian teachings about right and wrong?

 

Shakespeare is great fun, but English teachers are borrrrrrrrrrrring.

 

When I was in school, back when wearing a mask was for The Lone Ranger, we kids learned about telling time by using construction paper and brads and crayons to construct a clock face on a paper plate.  I suppose now children print out a picture of a Fit-Bit and hot-glue it to a take-out pizza box. 

 

But busses / buses are still yellow (and their wheels still go ‘round and ‘round), new pencils (especially cedar, if you can find them) smell like your own childhood, the first day of school is exciting, 6th-grade band concerts are painful to the ear but symphonic to the soul, new clothes are nice, the first look at amoebae through a microscope is to visit a new world, sophomores should be fitted with tracking devices, the only real football is school football, your friendly librarian will help you find the information you need, Robert Frost makes more sense than Congress, seniors pretty much rule the universe, and voting in a school board election remains a lonely experience.

 

The past few years have been rough in spots, and you have had to power through them. I hope and pray that this year the good old magic of back-to-school will stay with you through next May.

 

-30-

 

Flight of the Mild Geese - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Mild Geese

 

The abbey geese, for reasons of their own

Waddled up from the pond and onto the lawn

To mingle with the habited brothers

After the midday Mass

 

Fr. R looked out, a bit cranky that day

And spoke with Benedictine clarity:

 

“White geese.”

 

“Black geese.”

 

“All geese.”

Saturday, August 14, 2021

Camp David as Spenser's Bower of Bliss - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Bowre of Blisse

 

Goodly it was enclos’ed rownd about,

As well their entered guests to keep within,

As those unruly beasts to hold without;

Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin

 

-Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Book II, Canto XII

 

While much of the world is bleeding and burnt

Democracy takes a summer holiday

Far away in Maryland’s gentle woods and hills

Where the screams of tortured children cannot be heard

 

Among the gardened and guarded streams and trees

Elderly men are guided in their play

By smiling minders gentle in their words

And ready with the proper remedies

 

While those who code are kept carefully near

To sweeten the words the old gentlemen hear

Friday, August 13, 2021

Yet Another White Sahib Dismisses the Dead - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Yet Another White Sahib Dismisses the Dead

 

"This is not abandonment; this is not an evacuation.”

 

-State Department Spokesman Ned Price, 12 August 2021

 

While Afghan heads, like American guarantees

Roll in the dust of Kandahar’s grim streets

Our diplomats demonstrate their expertise

Executing again their skillful retreats

 

An elegant man at a microphone

Unctuously soothing the doubtful press

Denies that our client state has been overthrown

In a futile game of colonial chess

 

The dead cannot argue what Ned Price might say -

It seems their blood has blotted his resume

 

['Not an Evacuation,' Insists State Department as Pentagon Sends 3,000 Troops to Evacuate U.S. Personnel by Spencer Brown (townhall.com)]

Thursday, August 12, 2021

A Single Tear from a Child - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Single Tear from a Child

 

“I respectfully return my ticket”

 

-Ivan in The Brothers Karamazov

 

Children

 

Are ill-prepared to fall into this world

Naked and cold and wet at birth, and then

Flung into a series of awkward situations

Many of them involving pain and fear

 

Children

 

Are ill-prepared to live within this world

Isolated from the stars and each other

Trying to fit mythologies in place

Maybe it’s that old Garden of Eden thing

 

Children

 

Are ill-prepared to leave this shadowy world

Unlike Ivan, though, they have kept their tickets

 

Respectfully

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Worm Tunneling Through a Time Hole - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Worm Tunneling Through a Time Hole

 

Flailing through time and wobbling back again

The Chinese navy rules five of seven seas

Ol’ Preacher on the watch-‘phone yells about sin

Father knows worstest in his cartoon tees

 

Failing through time and wobbling back again

The 1950s marshal rides in HD

America’s Dad is convicted of sin

Hey, sailor boy, buy me a Saigon tea

 

Falling through time and wobbling back again

Ol’ Preacher needs to tuck his shirttail in

Tuesday, August 10, 2021

Red, Red Wasps - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Red, Red Wasps

 

Some sing of red, red wine, but here I sing

Of red, red wasps, who do not sing of me

I loathe and fear them for their vicious sting -

I aerosol their nest, and then I flee!

Monday, August 9, 2021

Abraham Lincoln and Macbeth - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Abraham Lincoln and Macbeth

 

After life’s fitful fever, he sleeps well

 

-Macbeth III.ii.23

 

To imagine a modern president

Having a favorite Shakespearean play

Is not to imagine a president at all

Sunday, August 8, 2021

Does Your Dog Carry its Hunting License? Weekly column, 8 August 2021

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Does Your Dog Carry its Hunting License?

 

Around dusk one day last week Astrid-the-Wonder-Dachshund was struck during a scrap with a snake, leading to several days of pain and grotesque swelling for the pup.

 

We immediately gave the dog a couple of eyedroppers of liquid Benadryl, which we keep for that purpose, and after a rough night took Astrid to Dr. Leah. With injections and take-home meds, the dog improved rapidly and is back to her usual spoiled, demanding, insolent, dachshund self.

 

In the light of day I found a scrap of snake skin (Astrid’s pal Luna-Dog is a mighty warrior, and takes no prisoners) and identified the reptile as a copperhead, one of the most common of poisonous pit vipers.

 

I looked up copperheads on the InterGossip and learned that “The copperhead is not a protected species in Texas and can be legally collected with a hunting license” [Southern Copperhead (A Guide to Snakes of Southeast Texas) ·iNaturalist].

 

Luna-Dog does not have a hunting license. I have one, but I never thought it was necessary for killing an unprotected species whose bite can be fatal to children and small animals, and in some circumstances to an adult [Can a Copperhead Snake Kill a Human? (snakesforpets.com)].

 

What committee of the ill-educated whose knowledge of animals comes only from Disney cartoons decided that a hunting license is necessary before protecting children and pets from a dangerous snake?

 

As the overworked, overtaxed, and underpaid boatman says to Thomas More in A Man for All Seasons, “whoever makes the regulations doesn’t row a boat.”

 

I had looked up the species of snake for my own safety’s sake because the Wise Ones in Austin sometimes seem to care more for the wellbeing of alligators and some deadly snakes than they do for our children. The copperhead, happily, is not protected except for the necessity of a hunting license and so I am free to congratulate Luna-Dog for killing the beast.

 

Another article on the InterGossip detailed ways of live-trapping copperheads and other poisonous snakes so that they can be relocated to the wild.

 

Yes, Friend Reader, I’m thinking the same thing as you. Saint Matthew says that we shouldn’t call anyone a fool, but apparently there are exceptions.

 

Recently some of our Austin Wise Ones avoided their duties and fled to D. C., purportedly because they felt (hardly thought) that the right to vote is endangered in Texas. Two of these Wise Ones then decided to work courageously for Texas on the beaches of Portugal [Where in the world are Texas Democrats Julie Johnson and Jessica González? (dallasnews.com)] and  [2 Texas Democratic legislators are vacationing in Portugal after fleeing the state over GOP elections bill: report (msn.com)].

 

And if that isn’t the good old fighting spirit of Texas, I don’t know what is.

 

Perhaps while they are fighting the good fight in Portugal for the rights of Texans they will also spare a thought for correcting some of our fatally misguided game laws.

 

Ours, not Portugal’s.

 

-30-

 

The Emperor's New Kafka - Poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Emperor’s New Kafka

 

When an insect woke up one morning he found

Himself changed into a politician

And thus gatekeeper to Das Schloss, key clam

Through whom all arrival applications must pass

 

All shipping boxes to be checked for ticks

In a village that cannot be surveyed

Unescorted thinkers may not be seated

At corner tables in the Herrenhof

 

Many are desperate to be admitted

But few are desperate to be committed

Saturday, August 7, 2021

Wear Leather Gloves While Working with Poetry (There Might be Adverbs and Snakes)

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Wear Leather Gloves While Working with Poetry

(There Might be Adverbs and Snakes)

 

Much of being is chaos; we try to shape it

Into meaning, not artificial constructs

But the meaning that is, already is

But tumbled through the weeds and brokenness

 

Clearing aside the brush and adjectives

Burning all adverbs as the rubbish they are

And reconstructing the fallen away into

Fresh celebrations of transcendency

 

(Wear leather gloves from the Tractor Supply –

Among your ideas there might be snakes)

Friday, August 6, 2021

Slogging Through the Cantos - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Slogging Through the Cantos

 

A feral howl of sustained malevolence

The souring stench of anti-Semitism

Random ideograms scattered about

Appropriating a touch of Chinese cool

 

Defining tainted chic at Rapallo

Free verse scattered like post-war hopes shattered -

And did he take a splash of Mussolini

With his death-in-the-afternoon denials?

 

How awkward for those whose poetic sage

Was but a mad relic of a tattered age

 

(Death in the afternoon was a fashionable cocktail)

Thursday, August 5, 2021

Darwinians Infected with Cognitive Dissonance Visit Gettysburg on July 5th, 1863 - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Darwinians Infected with Cognitive Dissonance

Visit Gettysburg on July 5th, 1863

 

They consider the news in several editions

Ignore the diagnoses of learned physicians

Number the dead at the local morticians

 

And conclude:

 

“They must have had pre-existing conditions”

Wednesday, August 4, 2021

What About that Kid with the Loaves and Fishes? - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

What About that Kid with the Loaves and Fishes?

 

There is a boy here that hath five barley loaves, and two

small fishes; but what are these among so many?

 

-St. John 6:9

 

About that kid with the loaves and fishes –

Who was he? And what was he doing there?

Maybe he was selling snacks to the crowd

Or he was on his way to the fields with his lunch

 

But his plan for the day was interrupted

And he was chosen for a moment in time

When bread and fish and grass and rocks and sky

Were made for us much more than they appeared

 

When his basket was made an altar, and he -

Like most of us, was more than he seemed to be