no, no, enough with them!  
let’s go to bed and wake up
soft with the sun
and sleepy with the moon on soft sheets
saturday night’s alright for fighting, for playing in the streetlights, for laying awake and whispering, for being with you

in cambridge i watch light peer through windows, and i think of you, always
my nostalgia, everreal in this city; a sinking anchor in the charles
i pretend to not notice the small blush blossoming on my cheeks, the smile pulling at my lip when i stand on cement sidewalks again, marveling at how busy the world can be

in contrast, the quiet wood of concord held solemn thoughts of worlds once known, of brick houses and plastered cellars, and beyond that
a world before settlers and borders and so many trees

i write for walden pond, a land of buried dreams, since water never forgets
for the sunlit roof deck on top of harvard, where you can see the whole world; the small winding roads, the ivy wrapped around trees,
for the bus rides between universes, stories, and loves

so keep this, something sweet for your mind when you wake up,  as you spend lazy hours in bed, and your plants reach new heights (because you will keep growing along with them)
and know when the yellow moon is swollen outside your windows, i’ll be thinking of you too, love

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

                        Does Cambridge Have a Comma Too?

Oh, Oxford Comma, let all hail to thee
You sorter-out of tidy sequencings
Who suffer not confusion in categories
And marshal your strong words in battle lines

Oh, Cambridge, poor Cambridge, you have not
A comma of your own; your sequencings
Were lost among the fens in Hereward’s days -
You might want to go a-fishing for them

Oh, sure, Cambridge,

You have your arts and poetry and drama
But only Oxford boasts her very own comma

Rumblings shaking the earth
Names cried out, long lost
Blame the gods, or us
Who forgot to pray?

Buildings collapsing
“Ubi est mater?”,
Children cry
Who forgot to pray?

Ash everywhere
Miles and miles of dust
This is it,
Goodbye Pompeii.

I yearned for another,
Who wasn’t you,
But she wasn’t there,
Unlike you,
At a long lost party
In old Cambridge town.

Did I fall
Just a little for you,
While longing for another,
Who wasn’t you,
At a long lost party
In old Cambridge town.

Last night I sat down in the street
And played a game of chess
With a homeless man I chanced to meet
Near my old Cambridge address,
And thoughts of victory or defeat
Mattered little (perhaps less).

The only thing I cared to gain
Was this mans company,
And I found it quite hard to contain
That it meant the world to me.
(Was it silly of me to refrain,
Since it filled my heart with glee?)

I won the game and thanked the man,
But as I walked away
I knew I didn't have a plan,
And felt the urge to stay,
But the next game had just began-
"Hello sir! Want to play?"

I wandered aimless through the night
Not feeling quite the same.
I cried, as though I thought it might
Help wash away the shame,
Untill a voice helped ease my plight;
"Would you like another game?"

A gallant knight he seemed that night;
A castle until dawn.
Whilst bishops hold religion tight
To tell us right from wrong,
And kings and queens provoke the fight
The pawn protects the pawn.

This place is always a little lonely
At the weekends...no noise and life;
I like solitude,
But not in places
Where's there's recently been
A lot of people.
Reclusiveness protects you
From nostalgia,
And you can be as nostalgic
In relation to what happened
Half an hour ago
As half a century ago, in fact more so.
                                                            
I went to the Xmas party.
I danced,
And generally lived it up.
I went to bed sad though.
Discos exacerbate
My sense of solitude.
My capacity for social warmth,
Excessive social dependence,
And romantic zeal,
Can be practically deranging;
It's no wonder I feel the need
To escape...
                                                       ­     
Escape from my own
Drastic social emotivity,
And devastating capacity
For loneliness.
I feel trapped here;
There's no
Outlet for my talents.
                                                        ­    
In such a state as this,
I could fall in love with anyone.
The night before last,
I went to the ball,
Couples filing out,  
I wanted to be half of every one,  
But I didn't want to lose * * *.  
I'll get over how I feel now,
And very soon.
Gradually I'll freeze again,
Even assuming an extra layer of snow.  
I have to get out of here.