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MJL  Mar 2019
Upstate
MJL Mar 2019
Rows of starched green and yellow paisley feather stalks
Marching in ordered lines along the road to 57 Eldon Way
Hot dogs and char burgers charge the air with yesterday's homecoming
Buds of moxie memories tipping long ears to big blue
Listening to the chickadees vocal pecking at kernels from the past
Morsels fall to the dirt signal life again for those willing to root
Pulled magpies to lines spy intimate joy-scattered seed below
Promising fortunes creased by hourglasses settled sand
White washed porches with rose printed borders
Nestle a "his and her" swing vantage over familiar fields
Imagined better-time scenes from selfie soaked movies
More real than all the forgotten stones ever stepped upon
Sweet tea sugar fills tall glasses of yarn spun dreams
Glory red and navy rippling a windy beat
To the clang of their steal pole clasp
Dance
Swing with them and recall a time of slower horizons
Of richer baskets
Of brighter springs
Of longer summers
Take a dip in the swimming hole
Naked, together, and happy


© 2019 MJL
Eldon is the Iowa town brought to life in Grant Wood's American Gothic painting. 57 is my favorite ketchup and everything best about being human... The poem reflects a memory of returning to a simpler time with improved perspective, remembering what we want. Magpies symbolize good luck, optimism and also deception.
Nathan Box Sep 2014
I used to feel your pride.
I felt like your prodigal son.
Now, I am unsure if I can return home.
My sins are unknown to me.
Did I fail you?
Do I mock you with my presence?
Did I commit the greatest sin of all and disappoint?

The silence hangs over me like a shadow.
Words unsaid box my mind like a prizefighter.
Phone calls never made compel me to fill the void.
Did I go too far?
Is the distance to blame?
Did I commit the greatest sin of all and disappoint?

Now, I lie in wait.
Wondering if I should be the bigger man and make the first move.
You may be oblivious to the pain.
Do you miss my voice?
Do you long for my stories?
Did I commit the greatest sin of all and disappoint?
Nathan Box May 2019
How did you get here?

A boy from Frederick…

A life defined by a cell.

These moments are meant to crush normal men.

You aren’t a normal man.

No, you’re a caged bird meant to fly.

And soon you’ll make your greatest escape.



As you do, lives will be forever changed.

Each decision will alter the timeline.

Space and time will bend.

Men will be left on the battlefield.

Lives will be saved.

Boots and blood; blood all around.

Crimson shines brightest in the moonlight.



Years from this moment, you’ll blame yourself.

The night will be filled with terror.

Please remember though, all you could do was run.

You still had wars to fight.
Nathan Box Mar 2019
Martyrs from Manitou don’t die.
They give of themselves completely.
A life chained to the field wasn’t him.
He was always meant for bigger things.
The fault of a father can’t deny him.
Shortcomings never make very impressive shadows.
Where the father fails, the mother shines.
Her love guides him.
The pain stays with him to this day.
You should know this, as we lower you into the ground,
No man can beat him to death
And you never could.

Our hero is and was destined for bigger moments.
War was around the corner.
Nathan Box Jul 2019
You’re eighteen-years-old.

This role is not yours to be had.

If it were, you would challenge the direction of your country.

College isn’t beyond the summer.

Draft cards don’t burn easily.

Enlistment is the only choice; at least you get a choice.

All, because your country called so loudly.

Soon, you will be on a boat halfway around the world.



To get there, you will travel the path of least resistance.

Any attempt to object would be futile.

Sailors do as they are told.



Pain, both mental and physical, are in store for you.

But, for now, you are nervous and excited.

This torment will last you a lifetime.

It will only be known to a select few.

I am proud to be in that group.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2016
I’m having a hippy drippy day
A great day to snuggle up inside
A drizzling rain and skies are gray.
I’ll call some friends to come and play.
I’ll cook up some muffins and popcorn
And chill off a gallon of cheap jug wine
Get out my guitar and my old ukulele
This day is going to work out just fine.

Rotten Ray and Pity Patty will come
The first to arrive as they always are.
Cokehead Bobby will ride with them
Because he never has a working car.
Dan will bring his Alice B. brownies
And whatever squeeze he has today.
Eldon Day will come since Dan’s here
As usual pretending he is not gay.

The music will start in right away
Four or five guitars and bongo drums.
There may be more instruments later
It depends on if Dial-A-Party comes.
While that is not a professional company,
It’s what we call it when we all meet
One calls another and soon we see
Small groups of people on the street.

Especially on rainy days, it turns out
We all love this kind of gathering
Depending on who is off that day
And how big a storm we’re weathering.
But joy and music is the rule of the day.
We laugh and get ****** and sing,
Some drizzily hippy drippy happy fun;
A gathering of close friends means everything.
Lawrence Hall Sep 2017
Paterfamilias

For Eldon Edge

An empty chair beside the fireplace waits,
And lamplight falls upon an open book,
Pen, pocketknife, keys for the pasture gates,
Dad’s barn coat hanging from its accustomed hook.

But he will not return; his duties now
Transcend the mists of the pale world we know,
And you in grief must carry on, somehow;
Your duty is here, for God will have it so

The good man takes that chair reluctantly;
It is a throne of sorts, and one imposed,
Not taken as a prize, triumphantly,
But in love’s service, and in love disposed.

An empty chair beside the fireplace waits
For you, whom doleful duty consecrates.
Sonnet
Lawrence Hall Dec 2017
Within the Octave of Christmas

For Eldon Edge, Patron of Christmas Bonfires

The wan, weak winter sun has long since set
And on the edge of stars a merry fire
Sends sparks to play among the tinseled frost
That decorates the fields for Christmas-time.
Within this holy octave, happy men
Concelebrate with beer, cigars, and jokes,
This liturgy of needful merriment.

Because

The Holy Child is safe in Mary’s arms,
Saint Joseph leans upon his staff and smiles,
The shepherds now have gone to watch their sheep,
And all are safe from Herod for a time.

Our Christmas duty now is to delight
In Him who gives us joy this happy night.
Lawrence Hall Dec 2023
Lawrence Hall, HSG

mhall46184@aol.comm

(from several years ago)

                                        Within the Octave of Christmas


                               For Eldon, Patron of Christmas Bonfires

The wan, weak winter sun has long since set
And on the edge of stars a merry fire
Sends sparks to play among the tinseled frost
That decorates the fields for Christmas-time.

Within this holy octave, happy men
Concelebrate with hops, cigars, and jokes,
This liturgy of needful merriment

Because

The Holy Child is safe in Mary’s arms,
Saint Joseph leans upon his staff and smiles,
The shepherds now have gone to watch their sheep,
And all are safe from Herod for a time.

Our Christmas duty now is to delight
In Him who gives us joy this happy night.

— The End —