Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                           Blueberry Portal


               “In dreams the fool is free from scorning voices”

                                         -C. S. Lewis, “Dymer”


In the drowsy, bee-sy afternoon
Picking blueberries in the white-sun heat
Voices. Conversation. But it’s only the bees
While the blueberries dance and spin and whirl

What do bees talk about? They don’t tell me
And I don’t need to know – but we’re all friends
And the dancing blueberries – they’re having fun
They welcome me into another world

The leaves write me little love-letters that say
How happy to have you home for an hour today!

Behind bars invisible
In for crimes of love
Betrayal and duplicity
Convicted in the court of karma
After a warp-speed trial
By a jury of ex-lovers
None of whom who smiled
Sentenced without compassion
Notwithstanding my denial

What about rehabilitation?
A second chance?
No appeal?

My past caught up with me
I’d been on the lam a good while
Evading the wake I’d left behind
But you can only do that for so long

Contrition is my mission
Supposedly it does me good
So the chaplain says
He’s from my hood
An erstwhile Lothario
Now sentenced along with me
Our prayers unanswered
Lost ships at sea

We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse

"Have you ever tried choking?" He asked nonchalantly.
“No,” she said. with a wrinkled nose of disapproval

“Want to try it?” His approach couldn't hide his excitement
“Ok,” she said, absent-mindedly running her index finger over his lips.

“you  can  choke  me,” she added slowly,
“if I can stab you repeatedly
with the 7 inch stainless steel
nail-file I keep under my pillow.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
Better By Myself by Hey Violet

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

        Garish On-Your-Face In-Your-Face Makeup at Twenty Paces

There are several forms of government:

Monarchy
Kakistocracy
Oligarchy
Autocracy
Democracy
­Anarchy

But Mr. Trump and Mr. Musk have given us
A new form of government via online spat
We’re ruled by cheerleader moms who shriek and cuss
So what is the scholarly Greek word for that?

These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.

when you trim your ***** and your mustache with the same pair of scissors
when you hand over your entire paycheck to the bartender of doom and glee
when you write a bounced check at the grocery store
when you sleep with a girl who isn’t clean
when you’re young, lost, broken and poor
when your childhood runs hard and your luck runs out
when your best friend is dead and your other friend is ******* your girl
when your dog sleeps in the afternoon and dreams of the neighborhood *****
when your nutrients gets replaced with Xanax bars over the one who just left
when your tired eyes meet the brick & mortar of strenuous labor
when the smile is so fake that it appears genuine
when you go all in on someone you weren’t 100% sure of
when you wait on bleeding knees for the unreliable god
when you bet on the boxer that crashed to the canvas
when the interest is high and the banks are closed and the creditors don’t care about grace periods
when you understand very little and you expel a whole lot
when the cord of anxiety strangles your very essence
when you turn out to be just as everyone expected

don’t worry

it’ll all turn around

and find you again

someway

somehow.