Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

              A Poor Attempt at a Kinda-Sorta Tang Quatrain

Ink fluttering across cheap notebook pages
A candle guttering across a thousand nights
In exile he finds a school of poets and sages
Far from his home along the swift Mekong

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

             Lingering Death by Medical Office Telephone Tree

“The marshal’s been shot! Somebody get Doc!”

“Hello. You have reached Polysyllabic Medical Associates
Our hours are (mumble, mumble, mumble)
Our fax number is (mumble, mumble, mumble)
We are located up the stairs on Front Street
Next to the Long Branch Therapeutic Outreach Centre
And boutique, Florals by Miss Kitty
All patients and visitors are required to wear masks
If this is a medical emergency
Hang up and telegraph 911 from the depot
If you need a refill, contact your pharmacist
If you are a doctor, dial 1
If you know your party’s extension, dial it now

(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)

If this is for an appointment, dial 4

(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)

If you would like to speak with a nurse, dial 5

(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)
That number is not recognized; please try again
(Beep)”

“Somebody, go get the undertaker.”

“Hello. You have reached The Garden of Memories
Formerly known as Boot Hill
Our hours are (mumble, mumble, mumble)…”

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                  When in Babylon
                       Don’t Do as the Babylonians Do

King Nebuchadnezzar died young, and that’s
From a lifetime of smoking those ziggurats

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                             Little Corpses Everywhere

            Woman kept child’s corpse in a plastic storage tote

                                               -CNN

Little corpses decaying in storage totes
Little corpses by the hundreds in unmarked graves
Little corpses by the abortuary thousands
In bags neatly labeled “Medical Waste”

Little corpses with shrivelled ****-tainted lungs
Little corpses dropped discreetly in the creek
Little corpses all chopped and dropped and flushed
So that graduation night won’t be ruined

Little corpses in factories, mere skin and bones
Their agonies haunting our new smart phones

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

As we are
Famed for hypocrisy
Do allow us to
Lecture you
About democracy
Though we know
Prior to us
You have the practice
In the timeline, upstarts
Usurping the know-all
Permit us
About democracy  to
Goad you please!

The divide-and-rule
Machiavellian gesture
As an adventure
We admit
And still exercise it
Fomenting
Ethnic-based conflict.

We adore to fish
In troubled water
To sure meet
Own objective faster.
Just like a canopy feeder
With our wings
Eclipsing the water
Striking out light helps us
Unsuspecting fishes  
To pick better.

In a
System of governance
And religiosity
You took the lead
But our piece of advice
How to dine, how
To put on attires
You have to heed,
Forget not
Boiled-wheat aid
You may need.
Disgraced, it is better
For food your pride
You barter.

Don’t think
Humanitarian issues
Or aid
Is what  first comes
To our head.
The economically weak
Their mind we—
Hooligan hypocrites—
Don’t
Allow them to speak
Leave alone
Their own roadmap
To design and
God-bestowed
Wealth to tap.
Worshippers of devil
Head- to -toe
We are evil.

It is our duty
To exhume a
Terrorist party
That shows alacrity
To execute assigned task
The reason behind its back
Remiss to ask.
TPLF is our right arm
We don’t want
On it to happen
Any harm.

We don’t mind
For genocide
A hotbed TPLF members
Or dissenters may find.
Introducing
Modern colonization
Is our covert intention. ///

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

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

I'm busy busy busy
I'm late I'm late I'm late
I've got to meet a rabbit
I've got to meet my fate

For if you trip and stumble
And take a long long fall
You might take some comfort
In the writing on the wall

It says the cakes a lie!
The roses never were red!
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
The last words that they said

There's no time for fantasy
The world's out of hand
Visit Alice another time
Curse that wonderland

We're living in the matrix
Dot dash, dot dot dot dash
We just have to accept it
As we wait for it to crash

One foot in and one foot out
Abstractify, you lazy lout
Yes, I'm sure reality's an illusion
But I can't afford to live in confusion

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                        A Student Walkout with Hissy-Chants

But

I heard of one student who refused to go
Who bravely thought for herself, and so said no
And she’s the one student I want to know