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Sleeping with the Muse,
  my nights have grown short

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spirit comports

Sleeping with the Muse
  words dance with delight

Sleeping with the Muse
  confronting my fright

Sleeping with the Muse
  her will tests again

Sleeping with the Muse
  not lover nor friend

Sleeping with the Muse
  my dreams sacrifice

Sleeping with the Muse
  all rest put on ice

Sleeping with the Muse
  the whispers come clean

Sleeping with the Muse
  excuses demeaned

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spool is respun

Sleeping with the Muse
  divorced from the sun

Sleeping with the Muse
  in darkness I learn

Sleeping with the Muse
  the day will confirm

Sleeping with the Muse
  till dawn’s freeing light

Sleeping with the Muse
  —new words to take flight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Animals think,
and animals react

Animals sleep,
and animals attack

Animals eat,
and animals mate

Animals fly,
and animals wait

Animals feel,
and animals cry

Animals sicken,
and animals die

Animals come,
and animals go

Animals watch,
and animals know

Animals stalk,
and animals deceive

But animals lack faith
—and cannot believe

(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                            Not Even the Paralytic’s Bed

We cannot crawl under our beds and hide
As much as we might want to disappear into
That dark, safe world of dust ***** and lost toys
And the chewed-up paper the dog hides there

We cannot hide under the covers with Bunny
As in our childhood days; we must instead
Stand up and guard our children against a world
That has lost its capability for love

We must neither crawl nor hide nor fail to love:
“Arise, let us be going…”


(St. Matthew 9:6 and 26:46)
A poem is itself
Your left knee is arthritic,
Your spine is warping too
Your reactions aren’t so quick
And you’re often in the loo,
But we cannot help you
Your time is simply due.
It’s normal for your age.

Your skin’s become quite dry
As well as your nether parts
Your outfit isn’t fly
And you’re far more prone to farts
But it’s been written in the cards
It’s been sung by many bards
It’s normal for your age.

You tell me it’s an illness
And you want it treated fast
I’m afraid it’s your willfulness
You weren’t designed to last
The diagnosis is that your youth is in the past
We won’t treat your condition; the die’s already cast.
It’s normal for your age.
If I hear this phrase one more time...
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                Supervising Elections in an Underdeveloped Nation

It well may be that civilized nations
Will send us soldiers to patrol our rubbled streets
And at each poll post tanks and squads of men
To ensure that our elections are fair

Their soldiers will pat our children on their heads
And give them chocolate bars and chewing gum
While practicing their Americanese from little books:
“Where is please coffee shop thank you we are friends”

And propping up each mayor and governor here
A sturdy German, Pole, or Czech will stand
                                                           (and sneer)
https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/justice-dept-fbi-planning-for-the-possibility-of-election-day-violence-voting-disruptions/ar-BB19E6tq?li=BBnbfcL
 Oct 2020 ConnectHook
Ariana Solo
You don't become wiser with age

You become wiser with the more people you engage

🧠
 Sep 2020 ConnectHook
Vera City
Oh! Alexa... hi..
I didnt mean to wake you
Please go back to sleep
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