Friday, March 5, 2021

Building a Fence and Smoking Cigarettes - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Building a Fence and Smoking Cigarettes

 

I passed two men who were building a fence

Cigarettes on their lips, work-stained old hats

Spirit level, carpenter square, calculations

The morning frost hard-worked into honest sweat

 

I passed two men who were building a fence

Its posts and rails strong-muscled into place

And hammered against the autumn hurricanes

With nails of steel, extruded steel, bright steel

 

I passed two men who were building a fence

With hands and tools and strength and uncommon sense

Thursday, March 4, 2021

What Face Mask is Appropriate for an Evening Wedding? - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

What Face Mask is Appropriate for an Evening Wedding?

 

Color-coordinating your face mask

Matching it to the tie, belt, socks, or shoes

Is now a fashion challenge in taste, a task

Good hygiene in bright reds or subdued blues

 

Is this mask for the bride’s side, or the groom’s

And is the reception a barbecue

Or dancing through a mansion’s stately rooms

A truly masked ball with a harbor view

 

The only real problem in fitting a mask –

Does it make my face look wide? That’s all I ask!

Wednesday, March 3, 2021

Imagining Maurice Chevalier as a Farmer - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Flaneur in Old Khakis

 

A rustic dilettante, all ready to flirt

In his old khakis and a chambray shirt

Old boots, old gloves, a mattock or rake to wield

A boulevardier of row crops in the field

 

He tips his old straw hat to the morning sun

Considers the corn silks’ latest fashion for fun

Discusses pitch and tone with a passing breeze

And notes the colours in the apple trees

 

The latest songs and jokes he very well knows

And shares the latest gossip with clever crows

This rare sophisticate whose sidewalk cafes’

Are nature’s dreamy scenes along nature’s ways

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

I Will Never Take Instruction from a Consonant - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

I Will Never Take Instruction from a Consonant

 

Whenever I’m down, and feeling a little blue

I wonder whatever it is I can do

What traditional learning I can pursue

To recover the happiness I once knew

 

I shun the transient, the ever-new

The latest fashions the unlettered construe

For I will follow Wisdom, just and true

Wherever She leads me, my whole life through

 

I will never take instruction from a consonant

And I know, wise friend, that neither will you

Monday, March 1, 2021

Citizen Potato Head is a Class Enemy - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Citizen Potato Head is a Class Enemy

 

“A mister no more: Mr. Potato Head goes gender neutral”

 

-Mr. Potato Head receives gender neutral name, drops title (usatoday.com)

 

“Mr.” indeed! No, no, Citizen Potato Head!

Bourgeois titles are forbidden by law

As are toys lacking in social realism

Clearly you are no good Comrade of ours

 

Lower your eyes in shame, Citizen Potato Head!

Your periderm, your lenticels, your pith

Your reactionary apical buds and lenticles

Your counter-revolutionary vascular ring

 

Your heteronormative attitude -

All condemn you – and there can be no a-peel!

Sunday, February 28, 2021

is Mr. Potato Head a War Criminal? - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Is Mr. Potato Head a War Criminal?

 

Possibly because of the quarantine and a popular film (with the obligatory spunky teen girl beating stuffy males at their own game), chess enjoys a wave of popularity just now. Chess is one of the oldest games in the world, and while its moves are simple and a game may begin within minutes of hearing of chess for the first time, a player’s development in understanding the layered and spiraling complexities is infinite in its possibilities. This is why both Young Sheldons and fuzzy-study-istas learn from it. Chess enriches and sharpens the mind without identification with any one culture, religion, language, or ideology.

 

Even as prisoners in a gulag who are deprived of all resources will scratch scripture verses on cell walls the night before they meet eternity before a firing squad, they will also draw a grid on a floor or table and identify random bits of rubbish as kings and queens and other figures for an intellectual game that with a casual sweep of the hand can be returned to the debris from whence it came if the okhrannik comes snooping by.

 

Thus, chess is a game which promotes the intelligence of the individual while requiring some degree of cooperation. Cults and gangs, however, don’t tolerate individuals living their own lives and thinking for themselves. They require not cooperation but obedience. Self-absorbed subcultures that find menace in a Barbie doll or oppression in Goodnight, Moon (The Secret Message of "Goodnight Moon": Oppression of Children | Independent Women's Forum (iwf.org)) will disapprove of chess just as soon as they are told that it exists.

 

First of all, there are the king and queen. If that’s not heteronormative oppression, then what is? We continue with the bishop, who centers on Christianity, and then the knight, who normalizes the secular hierarchy of male-dominated power. The origin of the rook is debated, but of course as a castle or tower joins with the knight as a symbol of the nobility oppressing the proletariat, and, like, stuff. The sides, regardless of color, are identified as black and white, so to Miz Grundy division is built in.

 

The queen is the most powerful piece, which is an argument for feminism, but, hey, white always begins first, so the racism is obviously there.

 

Themed chessboards often present the chessmen – eek! – chesspersons as presidents, generals, soldiers, and other famous characters. There is even a Gone with the Wind chessboard, and we darned sure know who the queen is on that one.

 

Even so, the figure of the king, even if he (eek, again) is General Patton or Fidel Castro, is still referred to as the king. One can imagine the ideological schizophrenia when a chess player under Stalin or Hitler referred to a piece as a king or queen or bishop.

 

We can’t imagine, however, that chess will escape the suspicious eye of the censor who takes orders from a consonant. The sort of decayed mentality that finds sexism in Mr. Potato Head and racism in Dr. Seuss is capable of grave offenses against the sacredness of the individual and of civilization itself.

 

We could ask Mr. Potato Head about that.

 

-30-

 

A Cup of Tea in the Hand, a Pointless Neologism on the Lips - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Cup of Tea in the Hand,

A Pointless Neologism on the Lips

 

“Tea is one of the mainstays of civilisation”

 

-George Orwell, “A Nice Cup of Tea,” 1946

 

In the afternoon (and you can look this uppa)

I don’t want a teafluencer; I want a cuppa

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Poets Seldom Order Missile Attacks - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Poets Seldom Order Missile Attacks

 

“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world”

 

–Shelley, “A Defense of Poetry,” 1821

 

In truth

 

Poets are the acknowledged legislators

          of nothing

                             Let us thank God that it is so

 

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways

Among other shortcomings scribbling free verse

Without any consideration for meter

And failing to understand the rhythm of iambs

 

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways

Hogging for grants and television time

Some writing more for politics than for truth

Obsessing on the I instead of All

 

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways

But they seldom order missile attacks

 

Poets are the acknowledged legislators

          of nothing

                             Let us thank God that it is so

Friday, February 26, 2021

Are You a Brand? - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Are You a Brand?

 

I’m not a brand either; I enjoy no fame

No lines of this or that stamped with my name

A doghouse is the only thing I’ve designed

And the dogs weren’t much interested in it

 

The morning sun rises without my brand

And when wild clouds I didn’t design roll in

I don’t receive a percentage as raindrops fall

And own no copyright in the dreary day

 

I’m not a brand; the stars are cool with that

And Father Zosima tells us that truth is enough

Thursday, February 25, 2021

Welcome to Stoplight, Texas - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Welcome to Stoplight, Texas

 

Shopping * Fine Dining * Antiques * Friendly Folks

Annual Ye Olden Days Friendly Frontier Cowboy Festival

Visit the Friendly World-Famous Parking Meter Museum

We’re Your Friendly Hometown Family of New Friends

 

Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room

Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive-Thru Only

Line Forms Here One at a Time Cash Only

Road Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours

 

Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive-

Thru Only Line Forms Here One at a Time

Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours

Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed

 

Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted

Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed, Closed, Closed

 

Y’ALL COME BACK SOON!

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Chlorine Smith-L’Francoise d’Bayonne et Valle San Fernando Announces Her New Line of Sustainable and Rechargeable Skin Care Products - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Chlorine Smith-L’Francoise d’Bayonne et Valle San Fernando

 Announces Her New Line

of Sustainable and Rechargeable Skin Care Products

 

Along with my line of renewable tees

Hand-stitched in certified green factories

And my ecologically-sound handbags

(If you have to ask, you can’t afford one)

 

I announce today my sustainable line

          (ssssssssssssssssssssustainable)

Of skin care products made from the anal glands

Of the gently harvested influencers

Who panned my twooter site and my last film

 

(No, I don’t want to hear about the children’s

Bleeding little hands; I pay them enough)

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Teeth are Curious Constructions - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Teeth are Curious Constructions

 

Molars for grinding

Bicuspids behinding

Incisors for wheat

Canines for meat

And for all your teeth

Above or beneath

Keep them neat

For kisses sweet!

Monday, February 22, 2021

When You are Chosen as Poet Laureate - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When You are Chosen as Poet Laureate

 

Do you suppose someday you’ll see your name

In the content pages of an Oxford book

An Oxford book of verse for this or that

Among the greats (who will want your autograph)

 

Do you suppose someday you’ll see your name

Across the top of Amazon.com

The poet of the week, the month, the year

Or, Heaven knows, the poet of the century

 

But if not, write anyway - you’ll hear your name

Whispered among the pages of Paradise

Sunday, February 21, 2021

Transacting Genres - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Transacting Genres

 

A plucky heroine library spy

Paris during the German occupation

Who falls in love with a mysterious soul

In search of life’s meaning that winter in Madrid

 

An empowering iconic game-changer

Must-read that weaves a trail-blazing tapestry

As passion explodes across the pages

In a forbidden path of something or other

 

And like reviewers, while all of Europe is ablaze

She sells shop-soiled literary cliches

Saturday, February 20, 2021

The Retiring of Old Snow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Retiring of Old Snow

 

Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees

Stained ice and sleet and snow from days ago

Silently steams away as vapour, as mist

Beneath today’s yellow and slanting sun

 

On Monday eve the skies were low and grey

And Tuesday morn soft flakes began to float

And then the rattle of indelicate sleet

Sent every creature to its appointed burrow

 

And now the little that’s left hides from the breeze

Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees

Friday, February 19, 2021

Death Takes a Holiday in Cancun - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Death Takes a Holiday in Cancun

 

In warm and sunny Cancun today

The senator’s children play on the beach

In frozen and powerless Texas

The children of the poor die in the cold

 

In frozen and powerless Texas today

The senator’s staff all coven together

To tack together excuses and visuals

The children of the poor die in the cold

 

Today the senator’s words are loud and bold

And still

The children of the poor die in the cold

Thursday, February 18, 2021

Ice Wednesday - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Ice Wednesday

 

Ash Wednesday presented itself as Ice Wednesday, which was Lenten in its own way.

 

The daughter-person evacuated her far-away home for a few days because the whimsical power supplier in The Big City where she lives is definitely not Jasper-Newton Electric Co-Operative. Her cliff-dwelling was cold, with promises of more cold to come. Her childhood home offered a dependable electrical supplier, a generator, a fireplace, and a nice supply of oak from Jake and Julie’s American Firewood.

 

We lost power to our country estate here along Beer Can Road and County Dump Extension for seven hours not because of institutional malfeasance or misfeasance or any other sort of feasance, but only because the ice took down power lines and trees which then took down more power lines.

 

Losing electricity for a few hours beneath ice, sleet, and snow is a matter of gratitude because it was for only a few hours, not for a week. JNEC linemen were out in the icy wind both day and night mending things while we sat by the fireplace.

 

Yep, that calls for gratitude, not attitude.

 

One of the nicer gadgets for helping out during hurricanes and ice storms is a portable power pack, which is a big, rechargeable battery or a series of batteries in a sturdy plastic container. There are many kinds and different prices, and a variety of features. Mine has jumper cables, an air pump for tires, a 110-volt outlet for very limited use, lighter-sockets for older accessories, and a little outlet for powering and charging a MePhone or computer. It usually rides in the back of my car.

 

The daughter-person has a much lighter power pack which features battery cables, an air-pump, and several MePhone / computer outlets. It was nice not having to ration the charge on a MePhone.

 

We also have a number of cheap battery lanterns all over the house. They have those efficient new golly-gee-whiz bulbs which do a pretty good job of lighting an area using little energy but whose piercing little blue lights make reading difficult.

 

Last year I bought a new portable generator (which is OUTSIDE) to replace the old Hurricane Rita one, and it is a marvel – more fuel-efficient than the old one, more breakers if you try to power too many coffee makers or refrigerators or microwaves or window air-conditioners at one time (I haven’t yet), and with (TA-DA!) a push-button start. The generator (OUTSIDE) proved itself after Hurricane Laura, and again in the ice age we used it in turn on the refrigerator, the microwave, and the coffee maker.

 

Anything with an exhaust or which uses flames must be OUTSIDE.

 

Because the generator is OUTSIDE I have to run a long, heavy-duty cord. Plugging together those light-load household extension cords is dangerous. The heavy-duty cables I have for the generator have little lights in the ends so that you know for the sake of safety that the cord is “live” and, as a convenience, you know where the ends are.

 

While Elsa and Anna were visiting I dug out the little folding Sterno stove I bought in 1968. I was one of ninety Navy Corpsman being trained by the Marines in their Field Medical Service School.

 

Sergeant Schneider called us rude names. If my mother could have heard the insensitive language he used she would have had something to say to him about it. So there.

 

Anyway, we young heroes (That’s what Sergeant Schneider called us, but he didn’t mean it) had occasion to spend rainy days and rainy nights in the cold and wind and mud of February along the coast (“Sunny California,” my apostrophe) and in the hills, and although the Marine cooks did a good job while chillin’ outside with us (eggs and bacon floating in rainwater in your mess tin, yum), the little stove was useful when time permitted (it seldom did) while sheltering out of the wind behind a tent or vehicle to heat up some soup or instant coffee.

 

Sergeant Schneider always seemed comfortable in the wild weather, though – I suppose not even the elements would dare annoy a Marine Corps sergeant.

 

The daughter-person took charge of the little stove and enjoyed the novelty of cooking (OUTSIDE – Sterno must be used OUTSIDE) some Ramen on the back porch.

 

Sergeant Schneider would approve.

 

As of this scribbling the power is on, I have coiled the power cords and covered the generator (which is OUTSIDE), have stored away the Sterno stove, and am simply enjoying the warmth.

 

Thanks again, JNEC; you’re the best.

 

-30-

 

Ice Wednesday - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ice Wednesday 2021

 

Many crosses of ice but no ashes

Trees sagging from the icicles dragging

Little birds desperate for last summer’s seeds

The ice ground whitening, whitening, disappearing

 

The power flickers and flickers and fails

And the day is one of lanterns and firewood

Everyone wrapped up in blankets and thoughts

Reading books in glaring blue battery-light

 

The roads are closed, and we are exiled home

Our Lenten ashes are in having no ashes

 

 

“…last summer’s seeds” – I grow sunflowers and in the autumn save the seeds in that famous cool, dry place in paper or cloth, and in addition to commercial chicken scratch feed them to the birds and squirrels throughout the winter.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Darwin Re-Thinks it All - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ice Storm: Darwin Needs to Re-Think His Errors

 

The electrics flicker off then on, all night long

Which wakes me, and my wake then wakes the dogs

Who protest and blanket-burrow even deeper

While angry sleet rattles the window panes

 

When the weather is foul and the power fails

We are left with a flashlight and a book

Staticky noises from the radio

A bottle of cold coffee, and our thoughts

 

When the night is cold and the wind is strong

One comes to understand that Darwin was wrong

Tuesday, February 16, 2021

Not This Cardinal, Not This Snow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Not This Cardinal, Not This Snow

 

Men have written of cardinals before

(Both ecclesiastical and avian)

And men have written of fresh snow before

But not this cardinal and not this snow

 

And so we visit Plato’s obscure cave

To cast our vision around the shadowing flames

Plato will not tell us what we must think

And so we think out all things for ourselves

 

Men have written of cardinals before -

But not this cardinal, and not this snow

 

In this context “men” is inclusive. Honi soit qui mal y pense, as Fat Henry said.