Thursday, October 20, 2022

Crazy Old Men with Rockets 'n' Bombs - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Crazy Old Men with Rockets ‘n’ Bombs

 

When you read to your brother or sister

A go-to-sleep book about bunnies and stars

You are healing a wound in Creation

Made by some malevolent old man

 

When you sing along with the washing machine

And help your MeeMaw up those tricky stairs

You are healing a wound in Creation

Made by some malevolent old man

 

When you sit on the steps late at night

And watch a pirate ship sail close by the moon

You are healing a wound in Creation

Made by some malevolent old man

 

When you pray for the bombed-out refugees

And put a little extra in the collection plate

You are healing a wound in Creation

Made by some malevolent old man

 

When you sing a song to the universe

It remains in the heavens forever

 

Because

 

You helped heal a wound in Creation

Wednesday, October 19, 2022

Upon Reading - a small collection as published in LogoSophia Magazine

 Upon Reading – LogoSophia Magazine


A small collection of recent poems published in LogoSophia (the editor makes even my poor work look good!).

Gender Selection is not Addressed in THE OXFORD BOOK OF ENGLISH VERSE ("Q" - not that "Q" - 1940 printing) - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Gender Selection is not Addressed in The Oxford Book of English Verse

 

That was the time when the custom of political re-education

                 of teachers by students had come in. 

 

-Doctor Zhivago, epilogue

 

Once upon a time a likeable student said

“You know, Mr. Hall, you can choose your gender now”

I paused, then replied, “And you know that’s impossible”

He was silent, folding his arms in contempt

 

I had been investigated before

And expected a summons from the Colonial Office

With a list of sensitive points to be addressed

But I hadn’t been reported this time

 

Someday, when this old world is set aright

Some will say such things could not have happened

 

In America

Monday, October 17, 2022

Lest Our Old Shoes Sit Easier Than Our New - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Lest Our Old Shoes Sit Easier Than Our New

 

-as Macduff does not say in Macbeth

 

When we were children we were proud of our new shoes

Our once-a-year shoes in situational poverty

Although we went barefootin’ most of the time

As long as the weather and parents allowed

 

But we had to wear them to Sunday church

And finally to school after the first chill

But it was something to own a new pair of shoes

To stand upon the earth in feigned prosperity

 

And even now, with lots of pairs to choose

We want to ask folks if they like our new shoes

Sunday, October 16, 2022

Taking Time to Stomp the Flowers - weekly column, 16 October 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Taking Time to Stomp the Flowers

 

At London’s National Gallery last week two unhappy young persons, one styling herself “Ziggy Stardyke,” vandalized one of Van Gogh’s sunflower paintings by sloshing it with tomato soup.  Both were costumed in tee-shirts proclaiming, “JUST STOP OIL.” The purple-haired Miss Ziggy then yelled, “What is worth more, art or life? Is it worth more than food?”

 

[Van Gogh vandals are graduate, 21, and student, 20, who blockaded Trafalgar and Parliament Squares | Daily Mail Online]

 

The art was on the wall, and then the food was too; Miss Ziggy and her sullen comrade are the ones lacking a life.

 

Another reality is that the possibility of you or I having an intelligent, source-based give-and-take exchange of ideas with someone styling herself Ziggy Stardyke is remote.

 

Two topics obtain in the recent adventures of Ziggy Stardyke and her sour-faced little Renfield. The first one is the matter of fossil fuels, including oil, coal, and natural gas.  Without these sources of energy we would all be dead. There is not enough wood on the planet to replace them, and solar and wind are still laboratory projects. Nuclear, which would also work, is mostly forbidden because some lazybones at Three Mile Island chose to ignore the layers of warnings and then the safety protocols.  

 

The other topic is civilization.  To paraphrase a character in an episode of Northern Exposure, we are not monkeys with car keys. We are humans, sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, as C. S. Lewis reminds us. We think. We build. We speak. We write. We draw. We paint. We sculpt. We identify and solve problems. We recognize Creation and our part in it. We deal with the complexities of creation through science, math, art, and poetry. As the Greek philosophers teach us, life is about questing for the good, the true, and the beautiful. 

 

Any utilitarian structure confirms this: a bridge over, say, the Houston Ship Channel is good because it provides enhanced freedom of movement and the exchange of goods and services for people going about the business of life. A bridge is also true because its engineering and construction work together in physical harmony through the applications of engineering, geometry, metallurgy, hydrology, and the other sciences. Finally, a bridge is beautiful because its functions and proportions personify the human spirit. The suspension cables, the towers of steel, and all of the works of human minds and hands that make a bridge a bridge are aesthetically pleasing.

 

Ziggy Stardyke and her Renfield have looked upon the good, the true, and the beautiful, upon at least 10,000 years of civilization, and have found them wanting. Therefore, exactly like Nazis, Communists, Talibannies, and some of their own English ancestors [Puritan Iconoclasm in the English Civil War | Reviews in History], they censor them. They who have life only because of the wise use of fossil fuels condemn the use of fossil fuels, and express their condemnation by censorship, by attempting to destroy a work of art, one of Van Gogh’s sunflower paintings, which has no connection with fossil fuels except that we would need to take a London Transport bus to go see it.

 

These two childish individuals are purportedly educated women, but so far have demonstrated no knowledge of either the sciences or the fuzzy studies, and in their invincible puerile ignorance angrily destroy things of beauty while shrieking illogical demands at the rest us.

 

In the autumn of 1945 the Western world surely did not imagine that civilization would fall again into book banning, book burning, the censorship of movies, newspapers, and broadcasts, the destruction of art, and mobs chanting slogans of hate in the streets, but here we are. 

 

A sunflower is heliocentric – it turns to the light. Poor Ziggy Stardyke and her Grima Wormtongue turn to the darkness.

 

-30-

Like an Autopsy on a Dear Friend - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Like an Autopsy on a Dear Friend

 

I’m amputating limbs in late October heat

Grateful to this friend who gave me so much:

Those first green leaves and blossoms in the spring

Deeper greens through summer, and apples in season

 

Something went wrong in the winter, and she didn’t awaken

The summer passed with its more pressing chores

And only now can I cut my friend apart

Into sweet billets for the winter fires

 

She will be with me this Christmas in comforting flame

And then return to Creation, from whence she came

Saturday, October 15, 2022

Reported Side Effects Include... - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Reported Side Effects Include…

 

After a dose a sudden nap-attack

A sour afternoon of sour dreamful sleep

Unhappy sour imaginings among sour pains

Feverishly sour and dizzily sour

 

Feverishly up and dizzily up

To watch the feverishly sour news

Sour Putin parked nuclear bombers in my head

Is Nancy really threatening to punch Donald?

 

Sour!

 

I’ll verify with Lester Holt tomorrow

For now I’m clinging to my sour sorrow

Friday, October 14, 2022

Casualties of Being - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Casualties of Being

 

In the last century

I lost my youth in Viet-Nam

Last week I met a man

Who lost his son last year

 

Autumn - always autumn

Thursday, October 13, 2022

My New Shoes Might Test Positive for Traces of Blood - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

My New Shoes Might Test Positive for Traces of Blood

 

Brand-name boat shoes glued together in gloom

Canvas and rubber and toxicity from Shanghai

Bloody little hands and decaying lungs:

We are all guilty of slavery

 

Do the workers dream of luxurious yachts

Or even a day off for a picnic at the pond

Bloody little hands and decaying lungs:

We are all guilty of slavery

 

Bloody little hands and decaying lungs:

We are all guilty of slavery

Wednesday, October 12, 2022

A Geriatric Motorcycle Gang Invades the Bluebonnet Cafe' - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Geriatric Motorcycle Gang Invades the Bluebonnet Café

 

The Hearing Aids from Hell Roaring off the Screen

Biker Babushkas High on Geritol

Looking for Trouble and a Clean Restroom

The Wild One Searching for his lost Social Security

 

Hell’s Angels on Aluminum Walkers

The Thundering Electra Glide in Blue Rinse

Harley Davidson and the COPD Inhaler Man

Dentures Every Which Way and Loose

 

“What are you rebelling against?”

“What have…wait…it’s coming to me…what have you…dang, I forgot!”

Tuesday, October 11, 2022

Mention Stalin in Your Poem - a poem, but "Stalin" is mentioned only in the title

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Mention Stalin in Your Poem

 

“It was discovered that there was not one mention of Stalin in your poem…”

 

-Yevtushenko, A Precocious Autobiography, p. 67

 

A chill October morning of brilliant air

Leaves turning in their colors and on their stems

In the healing-cool Cerean breeze

As the goddess takes her dreamy walk

 

This bright October morning of happiness

It’s time to put the garden tools away

Summer, in need of healing, begins to rest

Each moment is an earth-crafted waykreuz

 

But to approved poets this morning is nothing

For it makes no mention of anti-colonialism

Monday, October 10, 2022

I Never Want to Hear a Child Made to Sing Cohen's "Hallelujah" Ever Again poem

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

I Never Want to Hear a Child Made to Sing Cohen’s “Hallelujah” Ever Again

 

Our first contestant will sing “Hallelujah”

After taking ten minutes for exposition

About what it meant to her granny

And she knows Granny’s in Heaven listening

 

Audience, you are obligated to cry

 

Our next contestant will sing “Hallelujah”

After taking ten minutes for exposition

About what it meant to his ol’ pop

And he knows Pop’s in Heaven listening

 

Audience, you are obligated to cry

 

Our third contestant will sing “Hallelujah”

After taking ten minutes for exposition

About what it meant to her cat Fluffy

And she knows Fluffy’s in Heaven listening

 

Audience, you are obligated to cry

 

Our fourth contestant will sing “Hallelujah”

After taking ten minutes for exposition

About what it meant to his big brother

And he knows his brother is in Heaven listening

 

Audience, you are obligated to cry

 

And the winner is…“Hallelujah!”

And in each listener there is a secret cry:

“Cohen, why are you doing this to us!”


Sunday, October 9, 2022

A Very Brief Review of WHEN BOOKS WENT TO WAR - weekly column, 9 October 2022

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

A Very Brief Review of When Books Went to War

 

When America entered World War II in 1941, we faced an enemy that had banned and burned more than 100 million books and caused fearful citizens to hide…many more.

 

-Cover note, When Books Went to War, by Molly Guptill Manning

 

The “we” is a bit precious; the blurb writer was not in World War II, nor was the author, nor I, nor you. Still, the point is well made: tyrants don’t want people thinking for themselves. Books are dangerous to bullies, whether they are Hitler, Stalin, Ho Chi Minh, Vlad the Bad Putin, Chairman Xi, or the Ms. Grundy down the street.

 

Molly Guptill Manning’s excellent When Books Went to War begins with an overview of what books have been accessible to soldiers, beginning with the American Civil War, and then examines censorship of all media but especially books in the Nazi time.

 

When American entered the war the average education level among soldiers was the 11th grade, which was the highest in U.S. military history. With an almost universal literacy rate, books would be important for morale and for helping promote critical thinking and a sense of culture for helping democratize learning among all Americans after the war.

 

The process of making books accessible was complicated, but by 1943 the Armed Services Editions (ASE) of all sorts of books – fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and scientific-technical - were being sent to our military all over the world.

 

These paperback editions were designed to fit a combat infantryman’s pockets, and were bound on the narrow edge rather than the wide. Given that printing presses and paper sourced had to be modified for this format, this was a challenge, but one successfully met.

 

Ironically, there were strong attempts to censor the content. Title V, the Soldiers’ Voting Rights Act, was burdened with a rider that would have banned any book with even a hint of politics. Although Title V was so botched that very few soldiers overseas were permitted to vote, the censorship was scrubbed. As The San Antonio News said, “One would think that the men who fight the Nation’s battles would be quite able to decide for themselves what they would like to read” (p. 142).

 

Miss Manning appends the titles and authors of the thousands of ASEs. Many of these are action books: westerns (Hopalong Cassidy Serves a Writ), detective stories (The Postman Always Rings Twice), historical novels (Death Comes for the Archbishop), and a very few war narratives, along with essays, science fiction, biographies, drama. There is a little poetry: Robert Frost, for instance, Carl Sandburg, Whitman, Longfellow, and others, including Robert Herrick, who would now be found only in a university graduate course. There is a Russian novel written by a fellow named Kalashnikoff (as spelt) and German Erich Maria Remarque’s Arch of Triumph.

 

The ASE’s would in fact represent the holdings of an especially good library in a mid-sized American city or a very large high school.  That is, of course, before all the Ms. Grundys thundered in looking for th’ dirty books.

 

…over 123 million Armed Services Editions were printed. The Victory Book Campaign added 18 million donated books to the total number distributed to American troops. More books were given to the American armed services than Hitler destroyed (p. 194).

 

Those free and uncensored books were examples of the many things this nation gets exactly right. Thanks to Molly Guptill Manning for reminding us.

 

-30-

 

 

 

A Mansie Wearing a Gun in the Supermarket - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Mansie Wearing a Gun in the Supermarket

 

Wearin’ a big iron on his hip he swaggers down the aisle

The village idiot over by the vegetables

When you call him that, tomato, smile

He ain’t takin’ no lip from any of you edibles

 

Wearin’ a big iron on his hip he faces down

A mob of gluten-free breads carrying torches and a rope

Looking for back-shootin’ rice, white or brown

Who want rough justice for a cantaloupe

 

Step easy when he’s around, potato chip

That anal orifice with a big iron on his hip

Saturday, October 8, 2022

People of The Book and of Books

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

People of The Book and of Books

 

The Thought became Incarnate in Judaea

And thoughts become incarnate in the books we read

For thoughts are tabernacles of our hopes

Tents in the deserts of our wanderings

 

Our dreams worked out in careful lines of ink

Tippy-tap-typed on a computer screen

Or copied from those tablets in the Sinai

Then bound by an artist’s hands, and placed in ours

 

The Thought became Incarnate in Judaea

Our thoughts become incarnate in the books we write

Friday, October 7, 2022

An Airship in the Night - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Airship in the Night

 

Once upon a time they were ships of the air

And rarely seen in our rural skies

But I saw them in the picture books

In a three-color process, ships of dreams

 

And then I went to the Palace Theatre

Where from the middle seat in the very front row

I sailed over London in Captain Hook’s ship

Navigating past Big Ben and Saint Paul’s

 

Last night I saw a ship on the Houston approach

Its navigation lights signaling to dreamers

Thursday, October 6, 2022

Revenge is a Dish Best Served... -Senryu

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Revenge is a Dish Best Served…

 

Revenge is a dish

Best served warm from the oven

With mercy all ‘round

Wednesday, October 5, 2022

The Times They are not A-Changing - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Times They are not A-changing

 

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in

 

-Thoreau

 

If the times they really are a-changing

Then they were never relevant, nor can they be

Love is not measured with a fine Martian watch

Nor do Sinai or Olympus count the minutes

 

The dances of the planets need no batteries

Galaxies do not bother with the news

The Torah can never be outdated

(Nor can Bob, but that’s for another not-time)

 

If the times they really are a-changing

Then this moment with you can have no meaning

Tuesday, October 4, 2022

No Bombers Over Our Lady Help of Christians Catholic School in 1958 - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com 

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

No Bombers Over Our Lady Help of Christians Catholic School in 1958:

A Brief Discussion of a Successful Cold War Tactic

 

from an idea suggested by Kirk Briggs

 

Some have scoffed about hiding under our tables

As protection from the Soviets’ nuclear strikes

But scorn not this truth of those factual fables:

It worked! No bombers! Post that as one of our “likes!”

Breakfast in Constantinople and Other Poems

 Breakfast in Constantinople – LogoSophia Magazine


Another selection from LogoSophia, whose kind and thoughtful editor makes even my poor work look good!