Friday, February 22, 2019

Pomona at Play - poem

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

Pomona at Play

Pomona dances among the apple trees
Light-footed through the glowing amber light;
At dusk, kissed by the last rain-drops, the breeze
Begins to sigh, and falls, to sleep the night.

And then pale Cynthia, in silver crowned,
Rises to breathe upon each leaf and flower
Her sacred mists, softly and softly around,
And blesses dreams through many a silent hour.

Bold Helios will wake the sleeping east
And laugh away the magic of the dark;
He sets out daylight as a merry feast
And measures out his work with compass and arc

But later, them, for sweet Pomona’s play
Now celebrates the golden end of day.

Thursday, February 21, 2019

Hey, Hey, We're the Monkees and not Wagner! - weekly column

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

Hey, Hey, We’re the Monkees and Not Wagner!

Last week a 77-year-old man named Peter Dork died. 77-year-old men have been known to die from time to time, but this man was quite famous in his youth as a member of the musical group The Monkees (sic) and continued to work until his death.

The Monkees were cobbled together in the 1960s by television producers as a weekly series to profit from the popularity of The Beatles (sic). A popular nickname for The Beatles was the fab four, and so a snarky nickname for The Monkees was the pre-fab four. And that was true enough, but the scheme became more popular than anyone imagined it would be, and The Monkees, through their popular television series, records, screaming-teenie tours, movies, and reunions, made themselves a significant cultural artifact.

Through a series of casting calls and tryouts four young men - Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Davy Jones - were hired to grow bowl haircuts and play the monkees in the weekly series broadcast from 1965 - 1968. The producers employed the quick cuts, jerky movements, and minimal plotting of the Beatles’ movies with great success. The WannaBeatles were harmless good fun with the assembly-line teenie-bop music put upon them, and for a while the world sang along to “Hey, Hey, We’re the Monkees!”

Y’r ‘Umble Scrivener remembers an occasion in the middle of the night when the jolly Viet-Cong treated us to their own special music, and among the racket (as with Wagner, the V.C. liked it LOUD), a friend’s voice sang in a somewhat quavering but decidedly defiant counterpoint: “Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees…”

Back in the U.S.A. the sometimes Fractious Four were musically ambitious and wanted to make more serious music that the programmatic tinkerty-tonk promoted for the show. They often did not get along with each other and they certainly did not get along with the men who made them stars. Apparently none of their songs at that time featured gratitude as a topic.

Due to squabbles the show was canceled in 1968, and the lads continue to squabble as a group until 1971 when they pulled the metaphorical plug and pursued their own musical interests.

In the 1990s re-runs of the show on cable and satellite channels made The Monkees popular again, and for decades they made a number of reunion shows and fresh albums.

Y’r ‘umble scrivener was vaguely aware of popular music only because he couldn’t escape it in the a.m. radio subculture of the times, but could not distinguish The Monkees from The Beatles from The Eagles (let the reader react with shock and then disdain). Indeed, in his declining and / or golden years he has developed a fondness for German opera, and is happy to drive along to the tune of bellowing Wagnerians. His family is not happy about that, but his dachshunds, being good Germans, are cool with all the sturm und drang.

However, success must be applauded, and musical people advise me that The Monkees aren’t bad at all, and occasionally pretty good.

In sum, The Monkees were fun, and in a world where there is too much sadness, a bit of fun is good enough.

It is a truism that for those of a certain generation “I’m a Believer,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” and “Hey, Hey, We’re the Monkees!” are essentials for the American road trip. For their grandchildren, nah, that’s MeeMaw and PawPaw music, and they retreat behind the cultural safety of their ear buds listening to God alone knows what beatnik-hippie stuff, eh?

-30-

A Penny Catechism Kind of Man - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

A Penny Catechism Kind of Man

Simple enough, big print but no big words
Simple enough for me, few words in me
I love the silences, they speak to me
In the ridges and fens among my crops

Simple enough, a pipe down at the pub
Simple enough for me - Guinness or Pimms
I love a pint in the evenings with the lads
In the corner, well armed with pints and darts

Simple enough, big print but no big words
For a penny catechism kind of man

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

No Students Were Ever in Danger at Any Time - poem

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

No Students Were Ever in Danger at Any Time

This letter, is to inform you, about a
bomb threat
that we received this, morning. Name of a Name
Unified Consolidated ISD,
a State-Recognized School of Somethingness,
Where Kids Come First under the theme of
All The Kids All The Curriculum All The Time
is committed, to the safety and education
of all our students and We Are Number One,
Go #Thundercatbears!, ‘Cause We are #All-Hashtagged
in Unity and Oneness. We also, want
to clearly communicate with split infinitives
And crazy commas all over the place
to parents about safety issues when they
get found out arise.

This morning, a phone call, was received,
by the receptionist at

The-Latest-Name-Held-in-Place-with-Velcro-Until-the-Next-Name-Change
Elementary School and Essential Spirit
Dreams New Dawn Progress Learning and
Technology Center of the Future

stating a

bomb

was present, on the campus.
After conferring with the Threat Assessment Team,
The Standard Response Protocol team,
the Chinkypin-Lizard Lick Police Department parked in the handicapped spaces at Tia Jolene’s Goremay Eats ‘n’ Bokays out next to the Interstate,
the cheerleader sponsors,
Facebook,
Twitter,
our attorneys,
and Superintendent Dr. Hamestus Goodoleboy “Spike” Ponsonby III,
the students were rapidly, and efficiently evacuated
to a safe area up in the football bleachers
where they would be more obvious targets
and the school was professionally and thoroughly
swept for anything suspicious and untoward.
During this time,

when no students were in danger,

another call was received stating that gunshots
were fired in the school. There were no gunshots,
fired in the school and

no children were in danger at any time.

Currently, we’re are is allowing students,

who were never in any danger,

to return to school as usual

where there was never any danger at any time.

We will have extra counselors and therapists available
if students or parents needs supports are
counsolining in spelling ‘n’ sentence structure.

The students were never in any danger at any time.

All threats to our school where

their was never any danger

and students who were never in any danger

will be taken seriously immediately
and thoroughly and investigated
thoroughly and fully except for that call
last week that we managed to keep covered up.
We wanted to inform you of the correct facts
because our correct facts are the only facts
so you can discuss them with your child/ren
Of any race, sex, color, creed, religion,
or gender identification or not
and emphasize the seriousness of our facts,
which are the only facts. If you discover
Any facts untoward or out of place please contact us
At the district office at
xxx xxx xxxx ext xxx
or the Chinkypin - Lizard Lick Police Department
immediately and thoroughly.

No children were in, danger at any time.

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

I Miss my Northern Exposure Tee Shirt - poem

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

I Miss my Northern Exposure Tee Shirt

We could drive into town for a beer at The Brick
Listening to the radio as Chris-in-the-Morning
Reads a chapter from Doctor Zhivago
Connects Yuri with Uncle Roy Bauer

We could drive into town for gas at Ruth-Anne’s
Marilyn and Ed will talk about movies; Maggie and Joel
Will argue some more on the sidewalk outside
While Maurice preens before his reflection in the glass

And then to The Brick: Shelley behind the bar
Holling and Dave-the-Cook wrestling the grease trap -
I think I left my Northern Exposure tee shirt
In the laundromat in Cicely, Alaska

We could drive into town and look for it

Monday, February 18, 2019

Polysyllable va Exclamation Marks and Bellowing All-Caps and Ball-Cap - ripped (only metaphorically) from the InterGossip

Lawrence Hall, HSG, LT, P,M & S
mhall46184@aol.com


Polysyllables
vs
Exclamation Marks and Bellowing All-Caps and Ball-Caps


Genderqueer contesting histories climate apocalypse social activist make a tax-deductible donation today starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity Rawlsian diagnosis basic earth cooperative existential Marxism for our times starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity

BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD!

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Enlighten Me, O Brave Little Princeling - a rebuke to Young Mr. Trump

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

Enlighten Me, O Brave Little Princeling

“...you don’t have to be indoctrinated by these loser teachers
that are trying to sell you on socialism from birth.”

- Donald Trump, Junior

Have at it, little prince - I was called worse
When I came home from Viet-Nam; I’m sure
Your father could tell you about the pain

And now

A usage lesson follows my poor verse:


The relative pronoun following “teachers” should be “who,” not “that.”




I am at your service, your highness.

Writing in Our Stray Dog Cafes' - poem

Lawrence Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

Writing in Our Stray Dog Cafes

The

Authorities will shut them down again
Each in its turn: The Brick, the Stray Dog Cafe,
Foxy John’s (Beer Wine Good Food Low Prices),
Cafe’ Zanzibar, Joe’s Eats down by the piers

And Denny’s past, before the blood-crazed purge
Exiled us scribbling hippies to the street
To search again and build again a space
Where verbs and nouns and smoke are flung about

Because we are colonialists of the heart
Who build up empires of beauty and truth



http://www.visit-petersburg.ru/en/restaurant/196278/

Friday, February 15, 2019

When my Father was a Police Officer in Marseilles - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

When my Father was a Police Officer in Marseilles

In 1945 The War was over
The survivors were trying to make life work
And occupation forces here and there were set
To guard the roads, the rails, the city streets

And so it was that Master Sergeant Hall -
Normandy, the Moselle, Belgium and the Bulge,
Munich, Dachau, Thuringen, and Zwickau -
Was sent to old Marseilles to be a cop

A watch commander, assigning patrols
And sending men to their various posts
Even to directing traffic in the streets
There was a complaint from a traffic hub:

The American soldier in charge there -
Sometimes he chose to block all traffic there
And swagger about and cuss ‘em out
Then laugh, and all at once turn ‘em loose again

And then one day there came an alarm:
Machine guns shooting at that intersection
A soldier from the colonies gone wild
And murdering people in the street

They sped to the scene, the scene of horror
And helped - but they could not find their soldier
Posted there at the beginning of the watch
Was he among the dead? The wounded? Where?

And they didn’t know until the end of the day
After the soldier returned, alive and well:
“When the shooting started, I ran down the street,
Found another spot, and directed traffic there.”




Note: As remembered, which makes this a secondary source, and adapted loosely to iambs.  The quote from the soldier on traffic control, whose name I don't remember, was something like, "Well, Sergeant, when all that shooting started I ran like H*** down the street a few blocks, found me another intersection, and started directing traffic there."

I do not know if this soldier was the one whom on another occasion my father found blocking all the traffic at an intersection (I infer that it was a hub and possibly a traffic roundabout, with five or more streets meeting), striding around cussing everyone, then standing off out of the way and blowing his whistle for ALL the traffic to resume, and laughing at the chaos.