Lawrence Hall, HSG
Standing the Test
of Time
So tell me about life’s test – is it multiple-guess?
Or fill-in-the-blanks for my empty mind
If the most common answer is C…oh, what a mess!
Gimme a hint, Teach; I’m falling behind!
Newspaper columns not published in any newspaper (and there's probably a reason for that)
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Standing the Test
of Time
So tell me about life’s test – is it multiple-guess?
Or fill-in-the-blanks for my empty mind
If the most common answer is C…oh, what a mess!
Gimme a hint, Teach; I’m falling behind!
Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Wind Drove the
Pages Wild
Reading Yevtushenko on a Windy Day
The flapping, fluttering pages went wild in the wind
And poetry sometimes should go wild, blow wild
To shake those gently slumbering words awake
Provoking peaceful musings into a storm
Nouns chasing verbs into logical conclusions
That turn about and bite the reader in the (hand)
And adjectives torment the symbolism
While adverbs, as always, were mostly in the way
I just wanted a quiet hour with coffee and verse
But flapping, fluttering pages went wild in the wind
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A One-Line
Dismissal of Tucker Carlson Isn’t a Poem, But…
Democracy dies in
dorkness
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Waiting for the
Other Boot to Drop
And it’s not even a good and honest boot
But the steel-tapped heel and studded sole
Of anger, hatred, and existential despair
One that takes time to pause and stomp the flowers
(The village grouch; you know him)
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Faces Among the Leaves
At first she thought it was but the rock and the
bushes…
But all at once she was aware of a
face among the leaves…
Sigrid Undset,
Kristin Lavransdatter
There
are curious faces among the leaves
Among
the trees and sometimes in the trees
Along
the road a little old man appears
Looking
at me from the trunk of a rotting pine
He
seems to be a little bit annoyed
But
not dangerous; he’s become used to me
Tapping
along with my shiny hiker’s stick
Searching
the winter sky for something of truth
And
there are bare feet dancing in the underbrush
And
faces in the trees I must not see
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A Ballerina Arrested for High
Treason
Let them dance in praise of His name
-Psalm 150
A ballerina was arrested for high
treason
And no wonder – dance is a beautiful
thing
Whether the thunderous tread of a
country line
Or the ethereal flights of Russian
ballet
Dance is a joy, and so must be suppressed
A ballerina was arrested for high treason
A dancer moves to mysteries of her own
On
an imperial stage in Saint Petersburg
Or
barefoot in a meadow among butterflies
Dance
is a joy, and must be controlled
A ballerina was arrested for high treason
In
the street or in a moonlit fairies’ ring
Such wild wonder – dance is a
dangerous thing!
A ballerina was arrested for high treason
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Sunshine is Dogshine
Be
prepared. A dog is adorable and noble.
A
dog is a true and loving friend. A dog
Is
also a hedonist.
-Mary Oliver, “The Wicked Smile”
My little dogs pause at the kitchen door
But after tentatively testing the air
Run wild into the sunlit of a rare warm day
Leaping across the long-dead summer grass
They tumble and roll, and loll with their tummies up
For each little sunbeam is a doggie-kiss
To be cherished against the next arctic front
When the sleeting wind rattles the window panes
My little dogs scratch at the kitchen door
Sunshine is dogshine
But now they want a doggie-nosh and a nap
Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com Dispatches for the Colonial Office Reading the Room I don’t know to read a room, but look – I’m stil...