Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                       Bullets Do Not Whine

Bullets do not whine as they pass one by
Nor do they

Clang
Zing
Ching
Sing
Whizz
Zip
Zap
Zow
Pow
Pew
Pop

What they really say, quite loudly, is
“S*!”

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

             The Fairies Themselves Now Dance Sweet Summer In

                         My work is loving the world.
                         Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird

                                      -Mary Oliver, “Messenger”

Everything is sacramental this week:

The Strawberry Moon in the fullness of being
Midsummer magic by day and by night
The English quarter day, the Feast of St. John
And holy bonfires in honor of light

Good honeybees take Communion at every flower
Soft breezes sing hymns among the ripening corn
The woods and fields are baptized in happiness
The sun and moon bless maidens and swains

We need no clocks or calendars to tell us when –
The fairies themselves now dance sweet summer in

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                  Old and Unselected Poems

Why do publishers entitle volumes of verse
                                   New and Selected Poems?
Is it the editors’ lack of imagination?
Or is it some sort of secular rubric
An inky “We’ve always done it that way?”

When you finish writing a poem it is new
It didn’t exist before you, and now it does
And someone who reads your poem has selected it
It wasn’t selected until someone picked it up

Every poem is forever new and selected
And to the joy of your friends, so are you

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

            Somewhere in New Mexico I tipped a Waitress 25%

        NOT I - NOT ANYONE else, can travel that road for
        you.   You must travel it for yourself.

                                         -Walt Whitman

On a cool autumn morning in New Mexico
A greasy spoon along the interstate
Walt Whitman and I enjoyed breakfast together
Bacon and eggs, hash browns, coffee and toast

And it was very good – no heaves of gas
But Whitman found an errand in some other soul
And sang a different self to California
McKuen rode with me the rest of the way

Breakfast was ninety-five cents; I added a quarter
The waitress was happy, and so were we all

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                         Do You Miss Your Trapper-Keeper?

This is the middle of June so why
Haven’t the back-to-school sales begun?
This year’s cooler than cool styles
Have been stored in shipping containers

For months or years on Indonesian docks
Or in warehouses in Long Beach
The teeny-boppers who modelled those clothes
Might be in graduate school by now

If school were as cool as the ads
Taylor Swift would be the principal

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                     From Shakespeare: Happily Lacking in Originality

                                    Cf. Shakespeare’s Sonnet 76

A new sort of sunrise cannot be invented
Our loving moon is the same year after year
Summer lawns for barefootin’ are old news
Happy yellow bathtub ducks splash forever

And so my love for you cannot be renewed
Because it has no expiration date
My iambs and occasional rhymes are always fresh
From singing joyfully of ever-new you

A new sort of sunrise cannot be invented -
Except when you say “Good morning!” each day

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                       Don’t Be Still, My Heart

A brilliant young surgeon fitted my heart
With a scientific gadget to keep me alive
And I am alive, and grateful to him
Every time I read and laugh and mow the lawn

But now I read he’s been struck off the list
For a wicked crime – it was on the news
He listened to me and now I wish I could
Listen to him, and maybe help in some way

I read and think and pray and mow the lawn -
Don’t be still, my heart