Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Several Olympic Committees
Sewerage, filth, top-scum,
toxins, debris
Deadly bacteria, openly-floating
poo
The pollution of the ages
flowing free –
(They say the River Seine’s
in bad shape too)
Thursday, August 1, 2024
Men Beating Up Women is not an Olympic Ideal
Wednesday, July 31, 2024
A Small-Minded Man - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A Small-Minded Man
Oh, yes, I am a very small-minded man
Whose horizon stops at the apple trees
Whose vision is much upon the little things:
A tiny snail upon a pepper-plant leaf
A placid rabbit nibbling at the lawn
A squirrel feasting on his daily grains and seeds
A bluebird shyly hiding among the oaks
A mockingbird mocking all the rest of us
No grand visions for me; I will not leave
Small villages of dead bodies and wicked smoke
The rotting bodies of children and animals
Cratered cities of bomb-blackened ruins and stench
I promote no world-changing master plan -
Deo Gratias, I am a very small-minded man
Tuesday, July 30, 2024
Playing the Hitler Card - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Playing the Hitler Card
We say we would never play
that card
But we see that it has
been played
It lies upon the table
before us -
And whose febrile hand
placed it there?
Monday, July 29, 2024
A Mildly Amusing Repudiation of the Concept of Entropy - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A Mildly Amusing Repudiation of the Concept of Entropy
For poetry too is a little incarnation.
-C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms
All that ever was, that is, that ever will be -
All is from God, and will return to God
As elegant iambic pentameter
(Okay, maybe tetrameter)
Sunday, July 28, 2024
The Olympics as Imagined by John Milton - couplet
Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Olympics as Imagined by John Milton
On the anniversary of the martyrdom
of
Father Jacques Hamel
The Olympics this year
seem demon-haunted -
Christians, Jews, and
amateur sports not wanted
On Being a Still Life Today - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
On Being a Still Life Today
No outside duties have called me away today
And so I have become a still life entitled “Ennui”
Or perhaps “Weltschmerz with a Pet Dog”
Two dogs, actually, and they have napped the hours
The rain has fallen day after day after day
A parallel to the Ancient Mariner’s sun
Tree frogs cling to the algae-green window panes
As if they too have lost interest in life
Even so
With my little world all rainy and grey
I am happy to be a still life today
Saturday, July 27, 2024
In Memoriam - Ayden Rose
Lawrence Hall, HSG
In Memoriam – Ayden Rose
Eternal rest, O Lord, grant unto your daughter
Ayden Rose
and make perpetual Light to shine upon her
Ayden was a neat, funny
kid in my 9:00 o’clock class
Hard-working and smart,
and more than a little bit saucy
As eighteen-year-olds are
supposed to be
She grew up to be a
triple-threat teacher and coach
And on Monday night some
hero shot her in the back
Upon an Abomination in Paris - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Upon an Abomination in Paris
Opening Ceremony at the Paris
Olympics
All are welcome at the
Table of the Lord
But first
It’s always good manners
to wash your face and hands
Let's Go for Coffee - Grab Your Flak Jacket - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Let’s Go for Coffee - Grab Your Flak Jacket
Some give their sons semi-automatics and hate
Instead of family and purpose and love
Instead of guided study and structured faith
Instead of fishing poles and summer afternoons
Thursday, July 25, 2024
Your New (Famous Name Brand) Credit Card Has Arrived! - an assemblage of corporate tech-babble
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Your New (Famous Name Brand) Credit Card Has Arrived!
UserName already taken card
number invalid access code
too short
access code already taken
last four
digits of your social
download the app
link pay save 3 easy ways
to activate
scan the QR code with your
phone’s camera
error visit
MyFamousNameBrand.com/Activate
register your account for
consumer center
error error error invalid
please say yes or no
I didn’t quite get that
call 1-XXX-XXX-XXXX
this call is being
monitored for your protection
we didn’t tell anyone that
enable
paperless statements set
up alerts error
your number is invalid
your number is invalid
your number is invalid all
our representatives
are busy right now but I
could refer you to
our site your number is
invalid select
your savings every day
earn save save
even more that number
cannot be accessed
see your rewards program
terms for details
please try again
Prisoners Working in the Early Morning Rain - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Prisoners Working in the Early Morning Rain
We have all worked in the rain – building fences
Getting up the cows for milking twice a day
Sloshing through the muck to make deliveries
And usually with some choice in the matter
Prisoners have choices too – cells or a work detail
In designer costumes with horizontal stripes
Not much of a choice, but the work is needful and good
Picking up the litter of freedom and patching the road
Through the wipers I wave. They wave back. Rain -
We have all passed by our fellow man in the rain
Sunday, July 21, 2024
Orgiastic Screaming from Below - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Orgiastic Screaming from Below
Those who called for Nonsense will find
that it comes
-C. S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength
We have seen Milton’s
Pandaemonium
Choreographed on a wide palantir
Fallen angels praising the
Great Fallen One
In a High Council of
electrified lies
Great thunderings of fire and
rolling smoke
Issuing from a shiny
plastic throne of power
The Great Fallen One
framed in Elvis lights
On the floor the lesser
ones screaming in ecstasy
The Great Fallen One has a
plan for us
After all the balloons,
too, have fallen
[Allusions to C. S. Lewis' That Hideous Strength, Milton's Paradise Lost, and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings]
My Great Replacement Theory - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
My Great Replacement Theory
(or maybe just a lesser replacement theory)
Teenagers opened the doors for me at Mass
Which used to be my job, but they stepped up
And in stepping up they are replacing me
Which is good - I miss my youth but delight in theirs
A boy and a girl giggled and whispered
In a language I don’t know except that
Having once been young, I know it well -
A perfect translation was in their eyes
All languages come from Old Solar, Lewis says
And to Old Solar will someday return
We must all be replaced someday
For in Creation’s Great Dance that is a step
Teenagers opened the doors for me at Mass
And God will open another door afterward
Saturday, July 20, 2024
The Mysterious World of Azalea - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Mysterious
World of Azalea
If I were a child, this would be a happy place
A hidden leaf-mould world, all darkly green
Summery green beneath the shaded sun
Between the roots, beneath the leaves, alone
If I were a child, this would be a happy place
A brand-new comic book, some army men
A Roy Rogers cap pistol without any caps
A plastic Tarzan leaping from branch to branch
If I were a child…but alas, I’m not -
Friday, July 19, 2024
Who Gives a Fig? - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Who Gives a Fig?
Some people say that they don’t a give a fig
Which we would never hear from a happy fig tree -
The one at the bottom of the garden gives its fruit
As a blessing to every passing animal
Squirrels and rabbits, sparrows and mockingbirds
Share in this sugary summer delight
I speed by on my riding lawnmower
And take a fig myself, only to give it away
Some people say that they don’t a give a fig
But I think we need more figs in our lives
(As Amanda Holmes did not exactly say)
Thursday, July 18, 2024
How Many Moons Can You See? - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
How Many Moons Can You See?
It was a full moon and, shining on
all the snow,
it made everything almost as bright
as day.
-C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch,
and the Wardrobe
When the subject of vision
came up
(as it must with an
ophthalmologist)
I told Dr. Talbot that I saw
two moons
When only one of them would
be sufficient
But which one?
After a gentle touch of
surgery
I now see only one moon, which
is nice
But I rather miss that
other moon
And wonder if in her exile
she misses me too
Where is she?
On whatever planet you
happen to live
I don’t think you can have
too many moons
For Bob Newhart of Happy, Happy Memory - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
For Bob Newhart of Happy, Happy Memory
“He will not refuse one who is so blithe to go to Him”
-Saint Thomas More in A Man for All Seasons
With just a telephone, a clipboard, and a stutter
He was a happy band of some of our best friends:
May we with him
At last approach that Inn where all are welcome
The joy he gave us proceeds before him
The angelic choirs soften their hum and throb
Because
That loving Voice we all most long to hear
Will gently say,
“Hi, Bob.”
Monday, July 15, 2024
Fire Ants Devouring the Corpses of Unhatched Wasps - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Fire Ants Devouring the Corpses of Unhatched Wasps
Nature does not, in the long run, favour life.
-C. S. Lewis, “On Living in an Atomic Age,” 1948
A formation of formicidae trekked north-northwest
Across a vast and lonely sunbeaten expanse
Their imperial quest a fallen wasps’ nest
Between a lawn chair and a potted plant
The ants greedily ripped open the paper shells
Like Christmas crackers for the goodies inside
The ghastly drippings of pupae in their jaws
Fragments of dead wasplings for their demanding queen
A formation of formicidae trekked east-southeast -
What, then, is the number of an unnumbered beast?
Sunday, July 14, 2024
We Were Dressers of Sycamores - poem
Lawrence Hall, HSG
We Were Dressers
of Sycamores
Amos
7: 12-15
Saint
Mark 6: 7-13
From the readings for the 15th week in
Ordinary Time
All of us are sent, one place or another
On curious missions little understood
No detailed instructions, no notes, no maps
Take this road and go on until it ends
And greet the folks you meet along the way
Some of them will need your help, your love
Some of them will give you help, their love
And one of them might murder you
All of us are sent, one place or another
We can’t get out of it; we’re needed, brother
On the Events of 13 July 2024 - a quote from MACBETH
Lawrence Hall, HSG
On the Events of
13 July 2024
…that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th’ inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends th’ ingredience of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.
-Macbeth
I.vii.8-12
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