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Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                 The Bishop Speaks of Lent as Basic Training

“Rise and shine and greet the new day, * *s!”
“Roll your socks to look like little ps!”
“Byda leff, byda leff, byda leff right leff…!”
“Shoulder-fired, gas-operated, semi-automatic…!”

“My gramma was slow but she was old!”
“SIR! I am a cockroach, SIR! Cockroach, SIR!”
“Don’t let your piece fall to the
-* deck!”
“Get up! You ain’t got permission to faint today!”

“You call this clean!? My
’s cleaner than that!”
“You don’t *
until I tell you to *!”
“Step over that *
son-of-a-*;
I didn’t give no one permission to die!”

And the ancient liturgical El chant:

“This is my rifle; this is my gun!
This is for fighting; this is for fun!”

His Grace speaks of Lent as recruit training -
Maybe, with a nice white wine and the dover sole
If not the soul,
He thought that up in his first-class from Rome
I say we need to nuke all military metaphors and similes! (irony, eh)

The formatting has removed many of the asterisks I employed as substitutes for foul language, has italicized lines that are not in the poem as written or entered, and has flung in some bold print that, again, is not as written.

As Admiral *** says in UP THE DOWN STAIRCASE, "Let it be a challenge to you."
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      When We Played Chase with Dust Devils

Long, long ago dust devils spun across
Our childhood playground where the school used to be
And we played chase with them across the sand
As they whipped up dry earth and long-dead leaves

They were a little scary in their speed
The way they funneled and circled around us
Malignant faces that appeared for moments
And disappeared again – surely only dust?

I didn’t think they meant us any harm
But looking back just now - I’m not so sure
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                           A Cold Call from the Hearing-Aid Place

A cold call from the hearing-aid place
I heard the young nice lady perfectly
I'd much rather hear the horns of Elfland.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                 Building a Fence and Smoking Cigarettes

I passed two men who were building a fence
Cigarettes on their lips, work-stained old hats
Spirit level, carpenter square, calculations
The morning frost hard-worked into honest sweat

I passed two men who were building a fence
Its posts and rails strong-muscled into place
And hammered against the autumn hurricanes
With nails of steel, extruded steel, bright steel

I passed two men who were building a fence
With hands and tools and strength and uncommon sense
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

       What Face Mask is Appropriate for an Evening Wedding?

Color-coordinating your face mask
Matching it to the tie, belt, socks, or shoes
Is now a fashion challenge in taste, a task
Good hygiene in bright reds or subdued blues

Is this mask for the bride’s side, or the groom’s
And is the reception a barbecue
Or dancing through a mansion’s stately rooms
A truly masked ball with a harbor view

The only real problem in fitting a mask –
Does it make my face look wide? That’s all I ask!
"Who was that masked man?"

"Your husband."
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                A Flaneur in Old Khakis

A rustic dilettante, all ready to flirt
In his old khakis and a chambray shirt
Old boots, old gloves, a mattock or rake to wield
A boulevardier of row crops in the field

He tips his old straw hat to the morning sun
Considers the corn silks’ latest fashion for fun
Discusses pitch and tone with a passing breeze
And notes the colours in the apple trees

The latest songs and jokes he very well knows
And shares the latest gossip with clever crows
This rare sophisticate whose sidewalk cafes’
Are nature’s dreamy scenes along nature’s ways
Imagining Maurice Chevalier as a Farmer.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                    I Will Never Take Instruction from a Consonant

Whenever I’m down, and feeling a little blue
I wonder whatever it is I can do
What traditional learning I can pursue
To recover the happiness I once knew

I shun the transient, the ever-new
The latest fashions the unlettered construe
For I will follow Wisdom, just and true
Wherever She leads me, my whole life through

I will never take instruction from a consonant
And I know, wise friend, that neither will you
A poem is itself.
#q
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                     Citizen Potato Head is a Class Enemy

         “A mister no more: Mr. Potato Head goes gender neutral”

              -Mr. Potato Head receives gender neutral name,
                                drops title (usatoday.com)

“Mr.” indeed! No, no, Citizen Potato Head!
Bourgeois titles are forbidden by law
As are toys lacking in social realism
Clearly you are no good Comrade of ours

Lower your eyes in shame, Citizen Potato Head!
Your periderm, your lenticels, your pith
Your reactionary apical buds and lenticles
Your counter-revolutionary vascular ring

Your heteronormative attitude -
All condemn you – and there can be no a-peel!
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                               A Cup of Tea in the Hand,
                       a Pointless Neologism on the Lips

                “Tea is one of the mainstays of civilisation”

                 -George Orwell, “A Nice Cup of Tea,” 1946

In the afternoon (and you can look this uppa)
I don’t want a teafluencer; I want a cuppa
Neologisms enrich our living language. "Teafluencer" is an embarrassing exception.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                       Poets Seldom Order Missile Attacks

         “Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world”

                     –Shelley, “A Defense of Poetry,” 1821

In truth

Poets are the acknowledged legislators
          of nothing
                    Let us thank God that it is so

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways
Among other shortcomings scribbling free verse
Without any consideration for meter
And failing to understand the rhythm of iambs

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways
Hogging for grants and television time
Some writing more for politics than for truth
Obsessing on the I instead of All

Poets can be tiresome in their own ways
But they seldom order missile attacks

Poets are the acknowledged legislators
          of nothing
                    Let us thank God that it is so
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 93
Are You a Brand?
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                      Are You a Brand?

I’m not a brand either; I enjoy no fame
No lines of this or that stamped with my name
A doghouse is the only thing I’ve designed
And the dogs weren’t much interested in it

The morning sun rises without my brand
And when wild clouds I didn’t design roll in
I don’t receive a percentage as raindrops fall
And own no copyright in the dreary day

I’m not a brand; the stars are cool with that
And Father Zosima tells us that truth is enough
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 175
Welcome to Stoplight, Texas
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                 Welcome to Stoplight, Texas

             Shopping * Fine Dining * Antiques * Friendly Folks
       Annual Ye Olden Days Friendly Frontier Cowboy Festival
        Visit the Friendly World-Famous Parking Meter Museum
          We’re Your Friendly Hometown Family of New Friends

Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room
Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive-Thru Only
Line Forms Here One at a Time Cash Only
Road Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours

Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive-
Thru Only Line Forms Here One at a Time
Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours
Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed

Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted
Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed, Closed, Closed

                           Y’ALL COME BACK SOON!
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

     Chlorine Smith-L’Francoise d’Bayonne et Valle San Fernando
                                        Announces Her New Line
              of Sustainable and Rechargeable Skin Care Products

Along with my line of renewable tees
Hand-stitched in certified green factories
And my ecologically-sound handbags
(If you have to ask, you can’t afford one)

I announce today my sustainable line
                                       (ssssssssssssssssssssustainable)
Of skin care products made from the **** glands
Of the gently harvested influencers
Who panned my twooter site and my last film

(No, I don’t want to hear about the children’s
Bleeding little hands; I pay them enough)
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                          Teeth are Curious Constructions

Molars for grinding
Bicuspids behinding
Incisors for wheat
Canines for meat
And for all your teeth
Above or beneath
Keep them neat
For kisses sweet!
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      When You are Chosen as Poet Laureate

Do you suppose someday you’ll see your name
In the content pages of an Oxford book
An Oxford book of verse for this or that
Among the greats (who will want your autograph)

Do you suppose someday you'll see your name
Across the top of Amazon.com
The poet of the week, the month, the year
Or, Heaven knows, the poet of the century

But if not, write anyway - you’ll hear your name
Whispered among the pages of Paradise
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 127
Transacting Genres
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                                     Transacting Genres

A plucky heroine library spy
Paris during the German occupation
Who falls in love with a mysterious soul
In search of life’s meaning that winter in Madrid

An empowering iconic game-changer
Must-read that weaves a trail-blazing tapestry
As passion explodes across the pages
In a forbidden path of something or other

And like reviewers, while all of Europe is ablaze
She sells shop-soiled literary cliches
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 211
The Retiring of Old Snow
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                       The Retiring of Old Snow

Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees
Stained ice and sleet and snow from days ago
Silently steams away as vapour, as mist
Beneath today’s yellow and slanting sun

On Monday eve the skies were low and grey
And Tuesday morn soft flakes began to float
And then the rattle of indelicate sleet
Sent every creature to its appointed burrow

And now the little that’s left hides from the breeze
Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                        Death Takes a Holiday in Cancun

In warm and sunny Cancun today
The senator’s children play on the beach
In frozen and powerless Texas today
The children of the poor die in the cold

In frozen and powerless Texas today
The senator’s staff all coven together
To tack together excuses and visuals
The children of the poor die in the cold

Today the senator’s words are loud and bold
And still
The children of the poor die in the cold
Feb 2021 · 191
Ice Wednesday 2021
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
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                                      Ice Wednesday 2021

Many crosses of ice but no ashes
Trees sagging from the icicles dragging
Little birds desperate for last summer’s seeds
The ice ground whitening, whitening, disappearing

The power flickers and flickers and fails
And the day is one of lanterns and firewood
Everyone wrapped up in blankets and thoughts
Reading books in glaring blue battery-light

The roads are closed, and we are exiled home
Our Lenten ashes are in having no ashes


“…last summer’s seeds” – I grow sunflowers and in the autumn save the seeds in that famous cool, dry place in paper or cloth, and in addition to commercial chicken scratch feed them to the birds and squirrels throughout the winter.
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                   Ice Storm: Darwin Needs to Re-Think His Errors

The electrics flicker off then on, all night long
Which wakes me, and my wake then wakes the dogs
Who protest and blanket-burrow even deeper
While angry sleet rattles the window panes

When the weather is foul and the power fails
We are left with a flashlight and a book
Staticky noises from the radio
A bottle of cold coffee, and our thoughts

When the night is cold and the wind is strong
One comes to understand that Darwin was wrong
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      Not This Cardinal, Not This Snow

Men have written of cardinals before
(Both ecclesiastical and avian)
And men have written of fresh snow before
But not this cardinal and not this snow

And so we visit Plato’s obscure cave
To cast our vision around the shadowing flames
Plato will not tell us what we must think
And so we think out all things for ourselves

Men have written of cardinals before -
But not this cardinal, and not this snow


In this context “men” is inclusive. Honi soit qui mal y pense, as Fat Henry said.
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
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                                   My Soul-Quest for My Meaning

V:

My parents don’t understand me; I’m special
So sensitive, an artist of the mind
So delicate, a bearer of all sorrows
So fragile, unsuited to physical work

They tell me to get off my (self) and find a job

R:

Your parents understand you perfectly
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 116
Saint Valentine's Day Snow
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                                 Saint Valentine’s Day Snow

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale
Light falls upon the pages of a book
Its words unread - the snow may come this hour
Between a noun and verb, a glance, a look

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale
The figures of our story now pause for us
Impatient for their journey to proceed
But through the window waits another tale

Pale, wintery-grey and cold, diffuse and pale
Light falls upon the pages of our lives
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
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                                     ­ Someday a New Arthur

               “Chasing Chaucer and Beowulf out of the Curriculum”

                                                  -S­pectator

Someday a new Merlin among the ruins
Will give a new Arthur a trove of hidden books:
Chaucer and Milton, Shakespeare, Coleridge, Keats
And maybe even long silent Malory

Someday a bold Arthur will command his scribes
To copy for the people the people’s words
Words long forbidden to them by narrow tyrants
Making words free to all, and letting in the sun 1

Someday a wise King Arthur will reign again
Within the greatest empire of all – the mind


1 Tennyson, “The Coming of Arthur,” line 60
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 124
I Get no WHO from Wuhan
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                 The World Health Organization Concludes
                  That the CV Did not come From Wuhan

                                 As Cole Porter did not say:

I get no WHO from Wuhan
Is it influenza from Fiorenza
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a virus from you
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
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                This Ashtray was Stolen from the Seaview Motel

                                                     Color TV
                                                  Weekly Rates
                                                       No Pets

I couldn’t live at the beach forever
A series of shabby little rented rooms
Cheap wine and thin volumes of free verse
Beach hippie chicks, White Rabbit, and guitars

I had to go away, or someday die
An unrealized old man set out on the curb
And so, stubbing out a last cigarette
I packed my seabag and caught the morning bus

I couldn’t live at the beach forever
And in the end became respectable
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                  A Reasoned but as Yet Inconclusive Debate
                             on the Events of 6 January 2021


Some assembly was required; the arguments are from:

The Merchant of Venice IV.i
The Constitution, Amendment XIV, Section 3
The Jerusalem Bible, Psalm 106


The quality of mercy is not strain’d
No person shall…hold any office
Happy are we if we exercise justice

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes
Civil or military, under the United States
And constantly practise virtue

But mercy us above this sceptred sway
Who, having previously taken an oath
We have sinned quite as much as our fathers

(Mercy) is enthroned in the hearts of kings
To support the Constitution of the United States
We have been wicked, we are guilty

And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
Shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion
For the sake of his name, he saved them

When mercy seasons justice
Against the same
Having faith in his promises
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
The South Dakota Attorney General Killed a Man.
                          Everything Else Is a Mystery.

                                   -Yahoo!News [sic]

Mysteries obtain within each life and plant and mineral
And that there’s such a creature as an attorney general
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
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                   A Saint Valentine’s Day Gift for my Daughter
                                Who Lives Far Away

Sunday Morning
Via electrical mail

Dear Child,

An agent of the federal government
May or may not deliver a package to you
Tomorrow, or not just one but maybe two
Or maybe one package at one time and

Maybe the second package at another
Or maybe there is only one package
Or maybe two, or, like Schrodinger's Cat
You may consider that there is a package

In your mailbox and be content with that
As a perception of reality

Love,


Your Old Dad
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 191
Super Servile Sunday
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
I re-post this most every year on Super Servile Sunday:

                                          Super Servile Sunday

O sink not down to that corrosive couch,
Docile before the Orwellian screen
That regulates the lives of the servile,
Dictating dress and drink, demeanor, dreams

Declare your independence from the sludge
Of vague obedientiaries who fling
Away their empty lives in submission
To harsh, diagonal inches of rule

Poor weaklings chanting tainted tribal songs
In chorus hamsterable, huddled, heaped
While costumed in their masters’ liveries
And feeling little while thinking even less

The very model of the State’s non-men
Predictable and dull, submissive ghosts
Crowded, herded through cosmic cattle chutes
Reflected in dim, noisy nothingness.

But you…

But you, O you, be not of them, but be
A wanderer in the moonlight, one known
To God and to His holy solitude.
A poem is itself.
Feb 2021 · 109
Another Day of Rioting
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                                  Ano­ther Day of Rioting

There they go again, screaming at each other
In a land of plenty, but all wanting more
Through posturing, threatening, bullying
And blaming each other for the wreckage

There they go again, screaming at each other
Bluejays and cardinals are the noisiest of all
And squirrels muscling in on the action
Crows criticizng from branches up high

There they go again, screaming each other
Around their seed-feeder beneath their oak
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      Prayer Group in a Cinder-Block Room

A Prisoner's Voice:

We’re all here for all sorts of different crimes
I made it for about three years last time
Built my business back up, rented a house
Married my baby-momma and started being a dad

And I was feeling good about everything
My old customers came back and trusted me
I was sure grateful to them; went back to church
My wife and kids and mom were proud of me

I got cocky; I thought I had it all whipped
I’m back in this white suit for another ten
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
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  “San Francisco Sues its Own School District to Reopen Classes”

                                            -Associated­ Press

Student Voices:

“I need help in understanding Don Quixote”
“Karamazov for me,” replies her friend
“For Christmas I received the Q edition
of The Oxford Book of English Verse,” says another

(And the Board exclaims, “The Q edition!? Eeeeeeek!”)

“I’m prepping Latin with our parish priest”
“Well, I’m tackling The Faerie Queene this year”
“I’m writing our class play in iambic hexameter”
“I wish I could read Pushkin in the original Russian”

(And the Board asks, “Pushkin? What’s their team like this season?”)

Student Chorus:

“We’ve got to study harder, everyone agrees
Lest we be as dense as our school’s trustees”
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
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poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                             If Your Life Were a Time Capsule

If your life were a time capsule of sorts
In what cornerstone would you brick in in
Against a mysterious opening day
When someone in the future would open you up

What would be found in the shell you left behind?
Shifting memories of moments of ecstasies
And mournful ghosts of sorrows best suppressed
And careful lists of long discarded dreams

If your life were a time capsule of sorts
What would you choose of you as a temporal deposit?
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                            The Presentation of the Rodent

          “The Feast of Candlemas…is perhaps the most
            ancient festival of Our Lady.”

                                    -Missale Romanum

The Catholic funeral home calendar
Prints “GROUNDHOG DAY (USA)” in generous type
“The Presentation of the Lord,” well, not so much
And “                                      ” 1 not at all

Perhaps one day we faithful will look out
From our dark-tunneled burrows of lost time
And gaze upon the morning shadows to ask
If there will be 2,000 more years of civilization

Because in the Temple

Our Lady presents unto our Lord the Child
But we present unto ourselves - a rat



1 The Purification of Our Lady
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                            Follow the Science Down Rabbit Holes

Infections are up and deaths are ‘way down
Or is it that infections are down and deaths are up?
Schools must be closed and the restaurants open
Or schools must be open and restaurants closed

Vaccinations are available, except when they’re not
And are necessary for all, except when they’re not
And masks are necessary, except when they’re not
And Saint Blaise blessed us at some thirty feet 1

The captains and kings 2 and whitecoats falter

And the rest of us

Can only leave all at the foot of the Altar




1 Per the bishop’s order, throats were blessed at a distance in petition to Saint Blaise, with the priest adding, “And we can hope there is a blessing.”

2 Kipling, “Recessional”
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                   A Young Roman Responds to Saint Benedict

               “We are about to open a school for God’s service…”

                                           -Rule, St. Benedict

Okay, but what about your S.T.E.M. offerings?
Does your footer pitch have artificial turf?
The books are too heavy - I have a note
My feelings are covered by the ADA

Silence? But I gotta have my tunes, man!
“Correction of Youths?” My mummy will sue!
“Daily manual labor” – may I be excused?
“No talk after Compline” – But can I text?

*** *** nonononono ***, no?

Not for me, dude; and this I’ve got to say:
I know that your program’s famously prestigious
But I am, like, spiritual, not religious
And, hey, you know, you’re just not Harvard, okay?
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                         Sensuous Sophia the *** Robot

I guess that’s okay, the wise man mutters,
But is she any good at cleaning gutters?

or

             Sensuous Sven the *** Robot

I guess that’s okay, the wise woman mutters,
But is he any good at cleaning gutters?
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
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                  A Child of God and of Long Summer Afternoons

Do you remember lying on a grassy bank
On a summer afternoon, holding very still
Watching the minnows only inches from your eyes?
And do you remember the earthy smell

Of the amber-colored water?

How many moments in your adult life
Have been as good as that?
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                    Where Do I Apply to be Corrupted?

BOOK: KGB began grooming 'young and vain'
        Donald Trump 40 years ago by saving him
        from financial ruin...

                                    -U. K. Daily Mail


This rumor has irrupted

Life is interrupted

Outrage has erupted

But I want to know

Where can I go

To be corrupted?
Doggerel is itself.
Jan 2021 · 164
Murder Most Cosy
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                            ****** Most Cosy

A ****** cannot possibly be cosy
With blood all over the vicarage floor
And while Miss Marple is politely nosy
There is still the problem of all that gore

A ****** committed in an English village
Is hardly cosy to m’lord who died
Surrounded by hop fields under tillage
He still is dead (tho’ in the countryside)

A ****** cannot possibly be cosy –
But is the widow finding life now rosy?
A poem is itself.
Jan 2021 · 153
Learning to Comb Your Hair
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                               Learning to Comb Your Hair

Do you remember learning how to comb your hair?
Your mother had you look into the mirror
(What a handsome young man!)
And watch as she made magic with a comb

First, she chased all your hair forward and down
Until your eyebrows laughed for the fun of it
And then she chose an imaginary line
And parted the strands for the rest of the day

Hooray!

Do you remember learning how to comb your hair?
(Now in your mother’s memory send up a prayer)
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                         Our Vines Have Tender Marsupials

In summer the ‘possums come seeking my garden
In grey winter they come seeking dog food
Tonight they cling high up in the bare vines
Hiding from the dachshunds snuffling below

All the animals’ eyes stare back at the flashlight
Unsure of their duties in the misty rain
Whether to climb, to move, to bark, to hiss
And so we all pause to ponder the mysteries

Fear, hunger, confusion, artificial light –
Pretty much metaphors for the covid time

(The title is a play on Our Vines Have Tender Grapes, MGM, 1945)
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                         “This Waiting Room of the World”

          I’ve always found this a trying time of the year.  The leaves
          not yet out, mud everywhere you go.  Frosty mornings
          gone.  Sunny mornings not yet come.  Give me blizzards and
          frozen pipes, but not this nothing time, not this waiting room
          of the world.

                                            -Jack in Shadowlands

Slow raindrops are the pulse that marks the time
Which falls with them upon the browning leaves
Each one of them a railway station bench
In a darkened world where trains have ceased to run

The ticket window is closed the rest of the day
But someone says the local will run tomorrow
Maybe around two if the tracks are cleared
Of all the hopes that seem to block the line

But maybe not, for nothing seems to move
And the journeys of life are forbidden to us
A poem is itself.
Jan 2021 · 88
Salt and Mrs. Lot
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    Salt and Mrs. Lot

We are told that Mrs. Lot was turned into
A pillar of salt for looking back to view
The flames of cursed ***** and Gomorrah
For looking to the past, instead of tomorrow

Maybe
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                        Some Say This is the End of the Era of Trump

Some say this is the end of the era of Trump
Some with glee
Some in mourning

Some say this is the beginning of the era of Biden
Some with glee
Some in mourning

But I say that this is your era
As it always was
And always will be

And you realize that this is your era
Sometimes with glee
Sometimes in mourning

You need no leader, no master, no whip
Obey yourself
And lead yourself

You wear no one else’s name
For you have yours
And you are free

You are not defined by an era
Define yourself
And honor yourself

Make the picture of your hero
A self-portrait

Sometimes with glee
Sometimes in mourning

But always you
A poem is itself.

The formatting is not as I entered it, but the poem still works. I hope.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

               A Sure Way to Be Banned from a Political Website

Is to ask a critic, by way of correction:
If he voted in his last school board election


                A Sure Way to Be Banned from a Catholic Website

Is to ask a radtrad priest just why he must
Promote his fantasies about others’ lust
Doggerel is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                               For the 20th of January
                                      1961 and 2021


                 The deed of gift was many deeds of war

                                         -Robert Frost

Miz Hawkins brought a television to school
So we could watch the inauguration
Of a president “born in this century”
But he seemed really old to us anyway

God looked like President Eisenhower
And God was surely a Methodist
President Kennedy was a Cath’lic
(In their basements they hid shortwaves and guns)

Shortwaves tuned to the Vatican and that ol’ Pope
So could a Cath’lic be a good American?
But the nation was young, and so were we
And America was God’s best creation

And because America was the Leader of the World
And we had whipped the Nazis and the **** [sic]
All by ourselves, and invented the Bomb
We were the blessing of democracy over all

Robert Frost spoke grand words in the January frost
I was hoping for his “Stopping by Woods”
Because I had memorized that in school
But he gave us something else, “The Gift Outright”

And then with frosted breath the President
Asked us what we could do for our country
Our country later asked us about Viet-Nam
But for now Miz Hawkins shushed all us deeds of gift

The nation was young that day, and so were we –

And everything seems so much older now
Our long ago optimism a deed of gift
To angry old men whose voices rattle

Rattle from behind armored glass and barbed wire
Barbed wire left over from DaNang and Saigon
And a thousand abandoned desert posts
Each a gift outright to Ozymandias

Who late bestrode the littered Capitol steps
His wrinkled lips loud-yelping in command
Over our increasingly antique land
“Made it, Ma! Top of the World!”

The happy crowds of ’61 are sand
There are no crowds in ’21, only silence
Behind ranks of soldiers (properly vetted)
Standing in empty streets, waiting for a Traveller

References:

Robert Frost, “The Gift Outright”
Shelley, “Ozymandias”
Warner Brothers, White Heat (film), 1949
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

       “FBI vetting Guard troops in DC amid fears of insider attack”

                                         -Associated Press

          “…we need to put all of the mechanisms in place
           to thoroughly vet these men and women…”

                              -Army Secretary Ryan McCarthy

Men of Destiny always make a mess
Of life, of death, of shabby governance
And from the safety of their bunkers
Polish their medals and send in the young

“These men and women” – “these” – he sneers the word
As if privates and corporals try to block votes -
His predecessors, trusting budgets, bullets, and bombs
Didn’t trust us one bit in Viet-Nam

It is the Pentagon’s original sin:
When they ** up they blame the enlisted men


FBI vetting Guard troops in DC amid fears of insider attack (apnews.com)
A poem is itself.
Jan 2021 · 201
Coffee Shop Darwinians
Lawrence Hall Jan 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                 Coffee Shop Darwinians

          “We’ll set a fine, new, well-oiled machine in place
            of the old one and this time we’ll put the Normans
            into it instead. That’s what justice means, isn’t it?”

                                        -Saxon Monk in Becket

No, of course it didn’t have to happen
We’re not campus coffee shop Darwinians
Determined that five innocents needed to die
Within the gears of our new, well-oiled machine

And that more should come, chanting “O Machine!” 1
“Follow the Science!” and “Learn. To. Code!”
As they sacrifice themselves to a Tweeter-sanctioned
Infestation of Manifest Destiny

And I’ve got a feeling, as you might agree:
No one on either side quotes Dostoyevsky


1 “The Machine Stops,” E. M. Forster
A poem is itself.
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