By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … We can’t take our books with us when we die / That reality shouldn’t bother me, but it does: / The copy of The Brothers Karamazov / I carried in Viet-Nam – off to a re-sale shop?
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Every morning begins with sunlit hope / Perhaps an echo of the Passover seder / “Why is this morning unlike all other mornings?” / Because this day our hope will be fulfilled
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … A camera time-stops images as electrical codes / Formed by Kyanon Kabushiki Gaisha / And if that is not high art, then what is? / But codes are not you in your many dimensions…
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The Pulitzer people did not telephone today / Nor did the Library of Congress or the folks at Nobel / I could paper a room with rejection slips / Except that rejections are electronic now
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Methinks I have astronomy; it must be so: / Today the moon eclipsed the jovial sun / And through the clouds and rain a darkness ruled / But with my little car’s headlights I backed it down
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … You will make something beautiful in any event / Even if only a silly ceramic frog / Holding a perfectly pointless umbrella / Upon the tree-stump where you feed the birds
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Time need not play the tyrant; we have tyrants enough / But it is true that we must go away / When time and God say we have played our game / And must withdraw into another world
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … I used to light a candle for you before Mass / With a prayer that ascended to Heaven / For as long as the candle remained lit / Even after everyone departed, deep into the night
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … 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
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … In my boyhood, to the Robin Hood oak / I tip-toed in those hot summer afternoons / With my three sharp arrows and my little bow / Craftily eluding the sheriff’s men
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall .. Dragons! They seem to land among us daily / Blotting out all happiness, all innocent joys / In appearance and demeanor ugly and scaly, / Suppressing silence through foul foolish noise
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … 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
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Fronting for decaying videotapes / And clocks that will never again chime the time / Through tinny mechanical syncopation / A drum set reposes without percussion
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The dragons are a polite and ancient race / And very conscious of their dignity / It would not do to neglect their seasons and feasts / Lest they neglect to visit you this year
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Names have not been restored, as Aslan says / Some are pleased to call this Ground-Hog Day / Although there are no ground hogs here / But the Presentation is everywhere and forever
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … To deny Israel is to curse ourselves / For we are inheritors of the Covenant / That He should be our God, and we His people / He creates us, He calls us – this is so
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The frost was still upon the windowsill / As an hour passed for me and Mary’s dogs / Their adventures in the woods, their lonely times / Their happy glances into their human’s eyes
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Connie-the-Haircut-Queen sells us pecans / Every Christmas, good Methodist pecans / A fundraiser sponsored by the women’s club / To be baked into cookies and pies for Christmas Day
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … A birthday is not the beginning of something new / But rather part of a continuing story / From its Prologue and its Chapter One / Through the dark leaves of Mirkwood and beyond
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By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … I allowed the time, the year, the day to slip / And so I can only imagine a card for you / A Russian Christmas card in paper and paints / Of Christmas scenes from a happy golden time….
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LogoSophia Magazine 