Tuesday, June 21, 2022

The Morning Radio Guy Turns Himself Off - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Morning Radio Guy Turns Himself Off

 

He was much of my mornings for years

His news, his jokes, his notes, his anecdotes

His affirmation of the goodness of man

Began each day with good humor and wit

 

But now he brandishes the radio waves

Like an old man threatening with his cane

By-Godding both the future and the past

Trapped forever in a 6th of January

 

Poor man! All he does now is scorn and scoff -

It’s like he’s turned his own radio off

Monday, June 20, 2022

The Metternich System - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Metternich System

 

Like Metternich

We seem to be shoring up crumbling institutions

Institutions that have no use for us:

Heavy-lipped Habsburgs, an ossified Church

 

Like Metternich

We ask if the revolutionaries have permission

To murder each other for the Goddess Reason

While princes and oligarchs flee for their lives

 

Like Metternich

We wonder if Napoleon won after all

Sunday, June 19, 2022

CLASS OF 2022!!!!! - free clothes and groceries Tuesdays and Thursdays

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

CLASS OF 2022!!!!!!

 

“CLASS OF 2022!!!!!” is still painted on his pickup truck

Which is parked in front of Christian Outreach

Free food and clothes on Tuesdays and Thursdays

He’s got his MePhone and a box of stuff

 

And some accuse the young of not planning for their future

Midsummer Sunflowers - weekly column, 19 June 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Midsummer Sunflowers

 

Colonel von Luger: “Fliers are gentlemen, not peasants to dig in the earth.”

 

Group Captain Ramsey: “The English have always been very keen on gardening.”

 

Von Luger: “Yes, but flowers. Is this not so?”

 

Ramsey: “You can’t eat flowers, colonel.”

 

-The Great Escape (1963)

 

But of course the seeds of some flowers are edible. Now that we are at the summer solstice the sunflowers are ripening quickly. Mine are a great success, the third crop of native American sunflowers I planted last year. The package I bought from CowCreek.Com (or something like that) contained 15 or so different varieties of real sunflowers in all sorts of colors, presumably much as the First Nations cultivated them.

 

I planted zinnias, the spouse-person’s favorites, in a parallel plot but they and the sunflowers have become great friends and share the patch. They have required lots of watering this year, but together the sunflowers, zinnias, and to a lesser extent the tomatoes make a colorful show. The peppers gave it up early.

 

Even now the sunflower heads are maturing into seeds and in the next week or so – I don’t want to rush them – I will begin harvesting them and storing them in the refrigerator in paper bags. The birds will certainly enjoy a feast, but many seeds will fall to the ground for the second crop. When both the sunflowers and zinnias are pretty much gone in July I will mow everything down and then simply wait for the second crop. Unless there is an early freeze that second crop will be just as beautiful when autumn comes.

 

The bees are happy and I have a fine crop of tree frogs, very useful little creatures and reportedly reliable biological markers: if you have bees and tree frogs you have good air, soil, and water.

 

This week is the summer solstice, also observed on St. John’s Day, which is also known as Midsummer Day.  The eggheads time the arrival of summer to the hour, although any schoolchild knows that the first day of summer is the first day after school lets out. Functionally this week is midsummer, when the sun is at its apogee and the daylight hours at their longest. Our nifty little solar system will slowly, slowly begin altering the courses of the planets and navigating toward the winter solstice and the Nativity six months from now.

 

The ancients sorted all this out with their observations of stars and shadows and the Great Dance (C. S. Lewis) of the planets from pyramids and ziggurats in the Middle East and stones planted on Salisbury Plain. We don’t have to eyeball the sunlight through Stonehenge or climb a roof in Israel to track the stars; all we need do is call up one of the weather applications on our MePhones to note the changes.

 

Just now a cold front would be the most welcome seasonal marker of all.

 

And Colonel von Luger was wrong: gentlemen dig in the earth.

 

-30-

 

Saturday, June 18, 2022

The Day Internet Explorer Died - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Day Internet Explorer Died

 

Our gadgets from the store, all shiny and new

The subjects of our brags and anecdotes

Are soon held together with Scotch tape and glue

And covered with coffee stains and sticky-notes

 

Codings and software must also decay

Metaphorical patches fall apart

They too enjoy only a limited day

Thus the limits of electronic art

 

To our own end, yes, we eventually toddle -

To be replaced by the latest model!

Friday, June 17, 2022

Like Love Withdrawn - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Like Love Withdrawn

 

After months of dreary drought and heat

Light raindrops fall upon the withered world

A few, a very few, and then they stop

Like love withdrawn upon waking from a dream

 

At dusk the paving into dryness steams

Only the hot and heavy air is wet

And smells of disappointment, dark and sour

Like love withdrawn upon waking from a dream

 

The westering sun shines briefly, and then is gone

Like love withdrawn upon waking from a dream

Thursday, June 16, 2022

The True Believer Fondles His Piece - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The True Believer Fondles His Piece

 

He cleans his AR with his little rod

And screams that Trump is his daddy-god




("Piece," of course, refers to a firearm. In a free society the reader may interpret it otherwise.)

Wednesday, June 15, 2022

The Stillness of the Summer Solstice - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Stillness of the Summer Solstice

 

I picked a few plums in the summer heat

Some withered apples in the summer heat

A bouquet of zinnias in the summer heat

The figs still green in the summer heat

 

I gathered blueberries in the summer heat

I dragged water hoses in the summer heat

I mowed the lawns in the summer heat

I fed the hummingbirds in the summer heat

 

Summer is the season that seems to stand still

And I don’t

Tuesday, June 14, 2022

Cemeteries are Dangerous Places - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Cemeteries are Dangerous Places

 

“The dead with charity enclosed in clay”

 

-Henry V, IV.viii.119

 

A friend wanted to visit the bones of her people

And give their graves some weed-killer and tending

I was deputed to follow along:

Cemeteries are dangerous places

 

The cicadas droned through the midday heat

While respectful dust covered the leaves

And my pistol remained discreetly pocketed:

Cemeteries are dangerous places

 

You never know if you’ll end up in one:

Cemeteries are dangerous places

Monday, June 13, 2022

Assault Speeches - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Assault Speeches

 

Demanding answers speeches outrage speeches

Taping stuffed toys to chain-link fences speeches

Candles speeches makeshift shrines speeches sermons

Speeches asking questions speeches antisocial media

 

Postings speeches yelling speeches no words

Speeches just no words speeches beyond

An open letter to speeches horrific speeches

No gun zone speeches AR-15 style

 

Speeches legally speeches well-regulated

Speeches why didn’t someone speeches assault rifle

Speeches it’s not an assault rifle speeches

Assault rifle speeches it’s not an assault rifle

 

Speeches assault rifle speeches it’s not

An assault rifle speeches speeches speeches

Sunday, June 12, 2022

The Rock Upon Which New York is Built - weekly column, 12 June 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Rock Upon Which New York is Built

 

His Honor Eric Adams, Mayor of New York, is into magic rocks and crystals, part of the reiki / chakra / ouija / enneagram / pyramid world of self-obsessed low-prole fantasy that would embarrass a sixth-grader.

 

His bracelet of little stones was noticed when he ran for office, but the assumption was that these were but ornaments – the mayor is a man of fashion. Someone mentioned that one of the stones was from West Africa, and that’s certainly a nice thing, a connection with one’s ancestral homeland.

 

But apparently, according to several sources (hey, they’re on the InterGossip; they must be true, right?), the mayor believes that different rocks and crystals possess special powers. One stone is for healing, another for protection, another for peace, and so on, all rather Harry Potter-ish.

 

And this is surprising in a grown man with a solid (maybe even rock-solid) background: his father was a butcher and, sadly, an alcoholic. His mother cleaned houses. He was something of a street tough and was arrested for criminal mischief, doing a few days in juvy and then probation. A police officer and a minister appealed to his better self, and young Eric finished high school, worked different jobs to pay his way through community college and then a B.A. in criminal justice and a Master’s in Public Administration. He joined the New York Police Department as a street cop, retiring as a captain after twenty years to go into politics.

 

His life and hard work are an inspiration, and suggest a man grounded in reality, and yet the bit about the rocks and crystals and the spiritual influence of the rock strata on which New York is built are disturbing. Eric Adams is mayor of New York City and thus the leader of one of the most powerful leaders in the world. If New York were its own nation its economy would be larger than that of most nations.

 

According to the (Countries With A Bigger GDP Than New York - WorldAtlas), only China, Japan, Germany, Great Britain, France, Italy, Brazil, and Canada have larger economies than New York City.

 

Last autumn the people of New York put their great economy into the hands of Eric Adams, so, yes, the illogic of his belief in rocks and crystals is at least curious if not worrisome.

 

Whatever Eric Adams does is not a local issue; it impacts all of us. Let us hope he does not forget where he came from, his parents’ hard work, the beat cop and the minister who saw something in him others did not, and those long shifts patrolling the subways and the streets in service to the people.

 

The mayor thinks New York gets ‘special energy’ from crystals. Is he right? | Life and style | The Guardian

 

Mayor Eric Adams believes NYC is filled with 'special energy' because of mysterious stones | Daily Mail Online

 

The New Identity Politics of Eric Adams - POLITICO

 

-30-

For the Cranky Old Man Who Complains About Girls Wearing Short Skirts in Church - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

For the Cranky Old Man Who Complains

About Girls Wearing Short Skirts in Church

 

If it were a crime to be young and pretty

The kids could be up for the death penalty

 

If it were a crime to be young and pretty

The case against you would be adjourned sine die

Saturday, June 11, 2022

This is Texas - poem

 

This is Texas

 

This is Texas

 

Where books are banned

And weapons are not

Where we pray for our land

And our children are shot

Friday, June 10, 2022

A Grim Quatrain on Mortality

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Grim Quatrain on Mortality

 

A dog sees birds with its malevolent eyes

And puts the poor feathered creatures to rout

But one day in the field the old dog dies -

The poor birds then will have the dog’s eyes out




(I blame the heat. And fluoride. And George Bush. And public schools. And the mysterious crystals beneath New York City. And the Mormons. And th' Cath'lics. And the Masons. And France. And the Commie spy chips implanted in us with the Covid vaccine. And the hamsterpox. And rock 'n' roll.)

Thursday, June 9, 2022

A Violation of the First Law of Thermodynamics - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Violation of the First Law of Thermodynamics

 

A day so hot that ordinary tasks

Exhaust the body and the soul; to grasp

The handle of a water tap wearies the mind

To grasp a simple thought eludes one’s will

 

The day is in violation of childhood summers

When little bare feet scampered across the grass

Those days have in adulthood have been stolen

The victims lie abandoned in the dust

 

Who will lay these charges, and against whom?

And in what court should this strange case be placed?

Wednesday, June 8, 2022

My Bourgeois Leanings - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

My Bourgeois Leanings

 

One day, at a meeting of the Komsomol…he was accused of bourgeois leanings just because he happened to wear a tie.

 

-Yevtushenko, A Precocious Autobiography, recounting an anecdote by his father

 

I am the only man who wears a tie

With proper coat and trousers (inspection pass)

Properly kitted like a proper guy

To weddings, funerals, dinners, and Sunday Mass

 

I am the only man who does not wear

Sneakers or baseball caps, gas-station shades

Knee pants, tee shirts, jeans with a built-in tear

Or plastic jackets shaped like hand grenades

 

If we are facing civilization’s end -

One’s trousers touch one’s oxfords with a quarter-inch bend

Tuesday, June 7, 2022

A Poem is its Own Studio - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Poem is its Own Studio

 

Words lift themselves from the canvas of life

 

The iambs are open so that the light drifts in

On the artist’s favorite smiling verb

Posing on a dais draped with flowing dreams

Before a canvas of possibilities

 

Words lift themselves from the canvas of life

 

A splash of adverb might go here – or not

Maybe a subtle conjunction instead to join

The thesis and the antithesis

In a loving reconciliation

 

Embraced by silent interjections of love

Words lift themselves from the canvas of life

 

Monday, June 6, 2022

Do Not Forsake Me, Oh, My Dushen'ka - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Do Not Forsake Me, Oh, My Dushen’ka

 

In honor of Dimitri Tiompkin

 

When we learned that a Russian wrote the score for High Noon

And another for John Wayne’s Rio Bravo

It made some of the populist faithful swoon

(Alas that nothing much rhymes with Bravo)

 

Given that Tiompkin was a Russian critter

We’ll just have to cancel John Wayne and Tex Ritter

When the Last Catholic Church is Seized and Sold - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When the Last Catholic Church is Seized and Sold

 

When at the Last Supper Jesus lifted Himself

Someone at table criticized the servers

For not getting some detail right (“Kids these days…”)

 

When the last Catholic church is seized and sold

When the bailiffs and deputies are given the keys

(The judges and lawyers will be laughing over single-malt at the country club)

When the vessels of the Altar are sold for scrap

When the windows are stacked at a re-sale shop

When the last Mass is ended and the people dispersed

 

When the processional cross is taken from the last altar server

Grumpy old Catholics will fault the poor child

For not holding it right (“Kids these days…”)

Sunday, June 5, 2022

Her Majesty the Queen and Her Good and Faithful Bear - weekly column, 5 June 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Her Majesty the Queen and Her Good and Faithful Bear

 

“There aren't many left like him nowadays, what with education and gasoline the price it is.” – as Evelyn Waugh did not say

 

Okay, in his humorous novel Decline and Fall (nothing to do with that doorstop by Gibbon) Waugh was joking about education and the price of whisky, but let the gasoline stand. And we might have to; we can’t afford much of it just now.

 

Last week I took my few gas cans to the station to fill them up after the first round of summertime mowing. The pump stopped at $100.01. The pump’s computer program is set for $100 for each purchase; I suppose the extra cent was a “so there” at my expense.

 

Another topic of discussion at the pumps was the large dead rat next to Pump #4. Perhaps the critter died when it saw the price of gasoline.

 

But it is curious that topping off some vehicles can cost more than a semi-automatic .556. Although our nation can be said to float on a metaphorical sea of oil, our President is apparently begging Saudi Arabia for more of the stuff.

 

And then there’s the matter of other nations sending us infant formula because that’s another thing not being processed here.

 

Thus, we have lots of guns but not enough oil for our industries or formula for our babies.

 

Until this week I did not know what a platinum anniversary is. I watched only a little of the merriments, the best part being the Queen’s tea with our dear friend Paddington Bear. Paddington is from Peru, but his English is quite good, don’t you think?

 

Among the images there were pictures of H.M. when she was Princess Elizabeth and served in the A.T.S., which was the British equivalent of our WACS.  She was a driver and mechanic, and although one of my sources says “rare historical photos,” they are not rare at all, just as war service was not rare among teenagers; it was mostly by teenagers.  You can drive around the InterGossip and see pictures of HRH as a teenager changing a tire, checking the oil, and adjusting a carburetor.

 

Can your kid do any of that?

 

Elizabeth’s father was against her serving, but teenagers can be persistent and she got her way. Queen Elizabeth’s service means that she is the last Second World War veteran who is a head of state.

 

It is still true that almost all teenagers are good and thoughtful, and serve their communities in so many ways. They aren’t appreciated as much as they should be; it seems the rotten ones get all the attention.  We old people can do better in praising the good kids.

 

 

Photographs of Queen Elizabeth when she was a truck mechanic, 1945 - Rare Historical Photos

 

Queen Elizabeth's Surprising Military Role in World War II - Biography

 

-30-