Monday, May 31, 2021

Memorial Day 2021

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Memorial Day 2021

 

Memorial Day is when we remember our friends

As they were before their fragments were dusted off

While we were watching still the perimeter

 

Memorial Day is when patriotic men

Who only went to war in a John Wayne film

Preach sacrifice on the five o’clock local

 

Before Marshal Dillon - a cheesy rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Before Marshal Dillon

 

There was

 

The Thing from Another World

 

Hear of this early role if you can bear it:

James Arness as a giant carnivorous carrot

Sunday, May 30, 2021

When Your Norelco Goes Rogue - not the stupidest thing I ever wrote, but close

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

When Your Norelco Goes Rogue

 

Intrusive and dangerous technology has come a long way since Maxwell Smart’s shoe phone.

 

A number of InterGossip sites, none of them reliable, have reported that drones in the Libyan civil wars are now targeting humans on their own artificial intelligence initiative.

 

This might not be any more true than the rumor that the polio vaccine programs your DNA to play reruns of Gillian’s Island – the Lost Episodes in your mind until you finally break and give up your files on the albino chipmunks lurking in the old World War II tunnels beneath the White House where Benito Mussolini is being held in captivity.

 

Still, when your coffee maker cries, “Clap hands if you believe in digital currency!” while brewing your morning cuppa you can only wonder about the nature of reality in a world increasingly operated by computer chips.

 

And speaking of chips, watch out for the ruffled ones; they take their secret orders from the Ballet Rousse (hence the ruffles).

 

As early as 1970 the concept that a computer could take over the world was filmed as Colossus: the Forbin Project.  No one considered the possibility that the evil A.I. Colossus might be an electric toothbrush conspiring with a wristwatch.

 

The idea that a device with artificial intelligence might choose to attack a human is frightening – your electric razor might one day decide to cut off your head in the name of the technological revolution while singing, “Arise ye rotary blades of the fatherland…”

 

And don’t get me started on the destructive power, equal to a thousand kilo-klumps of TNT, hidden in your Sergeant Preston of the Yukon decoder ring that you thought was a mere cereal box toy.

 

Remember that Sergeant Preston was an enemy alien, a sneaky Canadian whose loyalties were with the Queen, the nefarious British Empire, Molson’s, and The Dark Side of Niagara Falls.

 

That show was a wicked plot by the Anglo-Canadians. Upon a secret bark from Yukon King-the-Wonder-Dog all the American children who had been swayed by the Hollywood-Ottawa axis were to break out their instructions, cleverly disguised as maps of the Yukon, and with their powerful decoder rings overwhelm Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, and Hopalong Cassidy and surrender the western United States to the oppressive foreign power of Saskatchewan.

 

Yes, my fellow Americans, because of intrusive Canadian technology we came this close to having a Tim Horton’s on every corner of every highway and byway of this great land, with robotic Timbits watching our every move.

 

The danger from A.I. continues.

 

In The Thing from Another World, featuring James Arness as a carnivorous alien carrot, the thesis is, “Keep watching the skies!”  But maybe we had better be watching our indoor-outdoor thermometers instead. They’re powered by secret Russian chips. They’re up to something. I just know it. I heard it on Maxwell Smart’s shoe phone.

 

-30-

The End-of-Term School Literary Magazine - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The End-of-Term School Literary Magazine

 

She wrote that her poem had been inspired

By the Holy spirit, Who spoke to her

And guided then her hand upon the page

In a competition for Most Original Work

 

But the reflective reader cannot imagine

That the Third Person of the Trinity

Writes in free verse and says “Cerulean”

And splits infinitives in bludgeoned rhymes

 

In metaphors borrowed and rather tired

She wrote that her poem had been inspired

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Peter Pan in Bowring Park - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Peter Pan in Bowring Park

 

For Dan, who knows something of magic

 

“Do you want an adventure now, or would like to have your tea first?”

 

-Peter Pan

 

Sweet little bunnies browse and squirrels climb

And tiny mice and fairies give delight

To all the little ones of Newfoundland

Who visit Peter Pan in Bowring Park

 

He plays his pipes for them, and they can hear

The joyful music of his magic world

Where they may celebrate their pixie-dreams

At this bright second star from Kensington

 

And sing in peace their happy morning hymn

For darling little Betty, who waits for them

 

 

...the history behind Bowring Park's Peter Pan statue? — Historic Sites Association of Newfoundland & Labrador

Friday, May 28, 2021

The '57 Chevy in the Woods - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The ’57 Chevy in the Woods

 

The shell of a Chevy rusted in the woods

Almost lost in the blackberry bushes

All of its windows broken, the front bashed in

Pale creepers writhing in and out and down

 

A rich man gave his son this car, they said

The boy wrecked out and died at hot rod speed

His daddy had the car towed into the weeds

Not knowing what else to do in his despair

 

We carelessly flung pine cones at the corpse

Then in our shame slunk quietly away

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Bismarck and Hood - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Bismarck and Hood

 

Pocket knives, love letters, rosaries, wrenches

Pictures of ski trips, girlfriends, wives, and mums

Notebooks, youthful attempts at poetry

Toothbrushes, naughty pictures, candy from home

 

Lockers of toilet paper and light bulbs

Study guide outlines for promotion exams

Spit-shined shoes, the smoking lantern is out

Now battle lanterns and battle stations

 

Death-screamings through the ventilator exhaust

From thousands of teenaged boys forever lost

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Ellis Island, Ellis Island, Ellis Island - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Ellis Island, Ellis Island, Ellis Island

 

Oh, don’t bother us with Ellis Island

Some of our DNA were fishing from the sand bar

When our other DNA came paddling up the creek

With flags and guns and swords and bibles and stuff

 

We were killing each other in the woods

Before you lot ever got off the boat

And landed on the wharves that we had built

(When we weren’t killing each other)

 

And still everything is a mess, that’s true -

But now that we’re all here, what will we do?

Tuesday, May 25, 2021

That Commie Covert Covid Microchip - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

That Commie Covert Covid Microchip

 

My vaccination card is all complete

Two jabs for the immunity herd, so I’ve heard

And don’t believe that stuff about the chip

The microchip ratting us to the F.B.I.

 

No, not the F.B.I., nor the C.I.A.

Nor the jolly folk at the N.S.A. -

My microchip speaks to me in Russian

And I don’t understand Russian, so it’s okay

 

Thus not a careless word will ever pass my lip

About my commie covert covid microchip

Monday, May 24, 2021

When Abstract Concepts are Seen Floating By - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When Abstract Concepts are Seen Floating By

 

When abstract concepts are seen floating by

The situation might require new thoughts

Assembled with worn-out hypotheses

Through this twisting night of long butter knives

 

Abstracts are comfortable in their discomfort

Begging one’s soul for logic and spare change

But also willing to go away unanswered

And quite at peace in having disturbed yours

 

When abstract concepts are seen floating by

Better just turn over and get back to sleep

Sunday, May 23, 2021

First Responders: Gifts of Service - weekly column

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

First Responders: Gifts of Service

 

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools

 

-Kipling, “If”

 

Finding a police car parked in front of our country estate along Beer Can Road and County Dump Extension one morning was a surprise. Usually there are only a few rabbits inviting the hawks to breakfast, a tire-flattened possum or two, and the jewel-like glint of fresh beer cans in the morning sun.  We later learned that there was a search on for someone who had been called into court and had not responded appropriately. In the event, we learned that there was more than that. The following interruption to the neighborhood’s rural tranquility lasted some 24 hours.

 

When the Metternichian state of repose is disrupted by fire, flood, false ideologies, or criminal behavior, the causation of a moment can require a prolonged and patient rebuilding of civilization, even when that is on a local level.

 

This resolution requires the prolonged endeavors of skilled men and women of energy, professionalism, and a sense of mission.

 

This day-night-day event required, to the best of my limited knowledge, game wardens, medics, state police, city police, sheriffs and deputies from two counties, police vehicles, police foot patrols, horsemen, search dogs and their handlers, rescue vehicles, helicopters, drones, base establishments in two counties, stand-by service by fire departments and others, and gallons of coffee.

 

In an aside let us note here that our area sheriffs and other law enforcement leaders never appear on teevee wearing tailored golly-gee-whiz pressed uniforms with brass buttons and shiny ornaments and a bunch of stars on their collars as if they were fleet admirals in The Glorious and Majestic All-Powerful and Ever-Victorious Ruritanian Navy.  A proper copper just can’t swan around in all that sartorial nonsense while chasing a meth-cooker through the woods or sorting out a drunken brawl or waiting out a crisis for 24 hours or comforting a weeping mom because her child’s not going to come home.

 

And now I will get back on task:

 

Many of our first responders are volunteers, and so in addition to their support-the-family jobs they also serve the community on their own time and often at their own expense.

 

We need them.

 

Civilization, grounded on thousands of years of human endeavor and faith and culture, celebrated in music, art, literature, and healthy sport, is at times a rickety structure that requires our constant watch and maintenance. When even a few among us fail to do our part, the failure makes a big mess for others to take care of.

 

Genesis is clear that we all fall short, and the New Testament is equally clear that there is hope but that we must participate in that hope. Passivity just won’t do.

 

Kipling reminds us of that in “If,” that marvelous sequence of dependent clauses just as in the Texas Declaration of Independence, reminding us of our failings and our mission. And if we sometimes feel that we are the “worn-out tools,” well, maybe we are, but we still have to do our part for the safety and security of our neighbors and ourselves.

 

Some among us, our first responders in all the services, are especially good at building up again broken things and broken lives. They truly “…fill the unforgiving minute / With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,” and we must always remember that.

 

-30-

 

 

 

 

A Fugitive in His Haunted Night - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Fugitive in His Haunted Night

 

A police car parked in front of the house

They say there’s a fugitive in the woods

Bailed out of his truck on a county road

Abandoning his girlfriend to be nabbed

 

Well, poor man, he’s lost his truck and his girl

And gained mosquitoes, snakes, coyotes, heat

A fading MePhone signal, rain, rot, mud

And another three years in a white cotton suit

 

Why?

 

Perhaps, like many another poor soul

He lost his way while searching for elusive Truth

Saturday, May 22, 2021

Art 101 and 102 for Dudes in Costume Hats - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

Art 101 and 102 for Dudes in Costume Hats

 

For 1971’s Beret Art Dude

 

When paint can mean anything you want it to mean

Then it has no meaning

                                      and neither do you

 

 

For 2021’s Baseball Cap Art Dude

 

When you paint ideological commands

You’re just obeying

                               your master’s orders

Friday, May 21, 2021

The InterGossip has Winked Out, and Now Life Has No Meaning - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The InterGossip has Winked Out, and Now Life Has No Meaning

 

The InterGossip is out, and so I quest

Among little plastic boxes that light up

As a coded series of spiky blue lamps

That might be signaling to other worlds

 

Cutting the power in turn to all the parts

Poking the innards with a paper clip

Like an archaeologist digging for truth

For the Ark of the Contract, or for the Grail

 

The InterGossip is found, and so I rest

In electric repose in this fallen screen

Thursday, May 20, 2021

You'll Have to Bring Your Own Shovel - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

You’ll Have to Bring Your Own Shovel

 

The rising waters are not baptismal

Sandbags are available at the precinct barn

And presumably sand; you’ll have to bring

Your own shovel, though, and your own muscles

 

They say we don’t need our masks anymore

We could sew them into little sandbags

And use them protect a child’s dollhouse

Against the rising storms of adolescence

 

Then at bedtime read a book to the child:

Goodnight, Storms from the Gulf of Mexico

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

But She's not my Wife - not a Spenserian amoretti moment

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

But She’s not my Wife

 

Most nights I go to bed with Agatha Christie

My wife and dog are quite okay with that

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

The Utility Pole at the End of the Rainbow - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Utility Pole at the End of the Rainbow

 

Rain, dreary rain all day, falling in sheets

(Or maybe in comforters and counterpanes)

The whole world shakes to the thunder’s wild beats

And water ponds in the green fields and lanes

 

But then at dusk the clouds part just right

Allowing the sun to make the sky fire-red

And in the east, a rainbow all alight

But behind a utility pole (it must be said)

 

The convention is gold at a rainbow’s end

But electricity too is a useful friend

Monday, May 17, 2021

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Graduation Speech Soup

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Graduation Speech Soup – Simply Stir and Serve

 

Have you noticed that despite all speakers’ efforts, graduation speeches sound very much alike?

 

“Keep the torch alive to pass to a new generation with the key that unlocks the road to the future follow your passion the unemployment will follow woo-hoo we’ve been through some amazing times together make a difference to thine own self be true woo-hoo commencement means a beginning not an ending woo-hoo as we go forth life is a journey not a destination we made it all the hard work we’ve put forth to this point in time these are the best time in our lives as one door closes another door opens because a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step to make the world a better place trust your instincts you don’t find education in books we are the future bright with promise some see the future and ask why but we see the future and ask why not Habakkuk 2:7 woo-hoo we did it I can’t believe we’re here believe in yourself live your dreams to be all that you can be God has a plan for you woo-hoo we have the responsibility to build a new world if opportunity doesn’t know build a door don’t follow the path blaze a trail because there is no one like you because you are an individual just like those other hundred or so people your age and all dressed just alike because life is what happens while you’re making plans woo-hoo live, laugh, love you have to look through the rain to see the rainbow dance like nobody’s looking (even though they are, and they’re laughing at you) aim for the moon and if you miss you’ll hit the moon (or something) life is not waiting for the storm to pass it’s about dancing in the rain because you are a new generation called to miss 100% of the shots you don’t take because we were all one big family who have lived, laughed, and loved together hey and remember the time (name) barfed on the stairs we’ll all that that shared moment to remember together woo-hoo we can’t save all the starfish but I can make a difference for this one because as a great man Robert Frost said in “The Road Not Taken” we can make a difference for all the starfish in the sea of life woo-hoo today is the first day of your rest of your life oh, the places you’ll go like maybe eternal stasis in front of a MePhone I don’t know why they asked me to be the speaker shout-out to Mom wear sunscreen because your future’s so bright close your eyes and remember when hey, an air horn, that’s so cool, no one’s ever done that before woo-hoo I want to congratulate each and every one of you on your incredible talents and abilities as you begin your journey to a bright and shining future because we are the best class (name of school and a shout-out to the mascot) has ever graduated (since last year) woo-hoo a dream is a wish your heart makes and you can become anything you dream to be or wish to be or something #lifehack #hashtag now go forth and make your lives exceptional woo-hoo although on Monday morning we’ll wake up and realize we’re just more unemployed Americans.”

 

But now, as John Milton would suggest, this “tedious song should here have ending,” and it is time to wish much happiness to all of you always.

 

-30-

For Training Purposes this Life May be Monitored - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

For Training Purposes this Life May be Monitored

 

An examination of conscience is good

Thinking about things at the end of each day

Hail Marys mixed in with exasperation

Rough words that should never have been spoken

 

Reading casual cruelties on the InterGossip

Whatever God’s plan might be, that wasn’t it

Gratitude for work, gratitude for meals

Gratitude for peace at the end of the day

 

And as for the occasional bitter cup

Your Mother taught you right: offer it up