Are We All Prisoners of War? - poem, Sailor's Creek 1865

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Are We All Prisoners of War?

 

My great-grandfather was a tailor, they say

Stern of mien, impeccable in his dress

I have one picture of him, from 1912

White-bearded, thin, resting on the family porch

 

My great-grandfather was made a prisoner of war

At Sailor’s Creek, for he had found the wrong side

And the government found his children for other wars

The Aisne in 1918, Zwickau in 1945, the Vam Co Tay in 1970

 

There are few tailors now, but lots of soldiers -

Maybe we are all prisoners of war

 

Cf. Sailor’s Creek / Sayler’s Creek / Saylor’s Creek, 6 April 1865.

 

One Pleasing Note Do Sing (Shakespeare and a Washing Machine) - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

One Pleasing Note Do Sing

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 8

 

V: Where is my shirt; I can’t find it anywhere!

R: Did you look in the closet? In the dryer?

V: Yes! And I put it in the washing machine yesterday!

R: You didn’t tell me! I didn’t wash clothes yesterday!

 

V: You always wash clothes on Saturday!

R: That’s a pattern, not an immutable rule!

V: You should have told me that you didn’t wash!

R: Am I my husband’s keeper? Have you not eyes?

 

V: Can we not with one pleasing note sing?

R: Can you not sing to the washing machine?

The United States Postal Service Opens Your Packages for You - photograph

 No Extra Charge for Opening Your Packages Before Delivery

His Sacred Majesty - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

His Sacred Majesty

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 7

 

We are told that we mustn’t worship the sun

Nor even truth, but rather each shiny new toy

Powered by batteries and our unhappy wants

Endlessly discharging our minds and souls

 

We are told that we mustn’t worship the sun

But rather the mechanical fabrications of our hands

Upon the orders of our Lilith-draped masters

To STEM the possibility of thought

 

We probably shouldn’t worship the sun

But we are still free to think highly of him

Thank God That's Over - short poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Thank God That’s Over

 

St. Therese of Lisieux is said to have said

After an especially long liturgy

“Thank God that’s over!”

And who am I to argue with a saint?

Make Worms Thy Heir - poem

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Make Worms Thy Heir

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 6

 

Let us speak of the utility of worms

There is much in them, including our ancestors

But without them we might not live at all

They enrich the earth, even with our earth

 

All children are our heirs; in them we live

They are God’s treasures, and we must treasure them

After the Order of Saint Joseph, and when we pass

Our children will say that God is passing by

 

Is There No Sulky Gas? - doggerel

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Is There no Sulky Gas?

To the dentist this morning but woe and alas

Only a cleaning - no laughing gas!

 

Ha, ha, ha!