12/18/24

I choose fingers,
among the array
of many wonderful
parts on offer,

the other sensory emissaries protest,
but the multi-fluency of fingers,
fluent in all Romance languages,
nay, in every dialect, tongue,
tippling the balance in their favor

for the fingers are wonderful conversationlists, trumping the
cooing coyness of sweet wordy
verbs, fingers defy nouns, pronouns

and are fingers the finest conjunction
that was ever conjured ot conjuncted?

the ears hear poorly when upom it
a long  slim finger casually traces outlines
slow~sensually and the eyes shut tightly,
reflexively, the tongue froze to the
mouth roof, muted into inaction

even the the sense of smell lies powerless
should we block the nostrils with but
*******, and breathe mouth mightily

we do not diminish the orchestration’s
totality, the blending of sound ‘n sensation,
but the blind and deaf all must bow before the power of fingers speaking to
every part of the bodies totality

~
Hand and needle,
weapons of mass protection.
Mending day called solace,
bitterness in every stitch.
When all guides disappear
the hand begins to tremble,
that is the material point.
Listen to the water,
the sea is full of memories.
It knows everything,
it feels nothing.

A rage is building.
The sails unfurl,
the wind follows.
A hundred years of
traversing the deep
on a ship full of opiates
and other distant mermaids.
This blood vessel,
cresting the heart of the wave,
you will never completely cross
this body of water
until you learn to trust
the hands that hold back
death and it's squall.

Even now they drop anchor, singing
into the starry sky:

"Gather ye fishermen's wives
As thy men roll out to sea
Pray one and all
Thy sails hold strong this day..."
~

A few Christmases ago I put up a thing, it was quite seasonal and quite funny I thought
It was adapted from a small playlet I'd once written many years before
It was quite long though and I doubted whether many would ever read it
But I remembered it was a lot of fun to write
So I put it up anyway not expecting much
And surprisingly it actually seemed to do very well
A lot of people seemed to read it and like it
One of my fellow poet colleagues she was so impressed she even bought a star for it
I thought to myself "That means it would have appeared on the front page for a time "
Then I thought "Y'know that's a bit like getting a Christmas No 1 in the music charts, appearing on the 'front page' isn't it"
(A Christmas No 1 in the UK music charts was always a big deal)
I thought to myself "Well now you can die happy, when you go upstairs to the pearly gates
You'll be standing there with all the other guys and they'll be all shaking and trembling in fear.  But I won't be shaking, I'll be standing there like I didn't have a care in the world
And when God would come out and start questioning each of the new applicants
He'd finally come to me,  and he'd point his big fearsome finger down at me and ask
"So what did you do when you were down on Earth ?"
And I'll look back at him real unconcerned and cocky like and then I'll point my own finger right back at him and say "Christmas No 1 Big G"
And he'd be gobsmacked, yea he'd be wowed by this
He'd start stuttering and stammering "Wow! You... you.. you mean you had a Christmas No 1.,. just like.. just like the Pogues Fairytale of New York"
Then I'd have to correct him "No! The Pogues never got to No 1 they only got to Number 2, they were held off the No 1 spot by the Pet Shop Boys with their cover of "Always on my mind"
The Pogues should have been No 1 as their song was an original one not a cover ".
God will probably ask me then"Always on my mind, how did that one go again "
And I'd have to start to hum it for him"You were always on my mind (and then the keyboards kick in) do do do do/ do do doo You were always on my mind
And then the bridge or chorus "Showw me, show me that your sweet love hasn't died/ You were always on my mind-d-d/You were always on my mind"
And God will start humming it with me
"Do do do do/do de do
Do de do do/do do do "
Then suddenly he'll stop and shout over at St. Peter
"Hey Peter, roll out the red carpet, we got royalty coming ".

From all these years questioning why I am alone?  Now I can simply answer, it was a choice I made that never made sense since until I see I was behind all closed doors.

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                          Upon Learning of the Death of Papa Ben


                    We are not some casual and meaningless product of
                    evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God.
                    Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is
                    necessary.

                                ­               -Papa Benedict


I awoke from what was called a procedure
And was surprised to be alive, alive
By the brilliance of those called to medicine
By the Grace of God and Saint Elizabeth

When certain images and clouds were cleared
From my weary and befogged body and mind
And the kindest nurse brought a coffee for me
With words of assurances and blessings

I learned that our dear Papa Ben had died

I paused, I put the coffee down, I cried
On this December day when Papa Ben died

When I was young the days seemed longer,
the weeks, months, even a year an eternity,
but then the ensuing speeding decades seemed
to melt away like winter snows. Reminding me
that life is a brief and fleeting thing not to be
taken for granted or wasted.