From Center High School Production of Shrek the Musical

Our Inheritance

I have read the last poem in the book. What now?

Shall I put down my pen, close the lid on my laptop

And write no more? What harm would be done

Should I never say another word? The day will come,

You know, when all the poetry and all the words

Will no longer seed the brain with flowering images.

What then, you ask? Well, my friends, eternity. And

We shall inherit the endless expanse of dark matter,

The stuff of which the entire universe is made.

Gather all the stars in their glory while you can.

Chris Hanch  8-11-15

Freedom to Roam the World

I won’t claim that technology saved me, but it has come

a long way. I have grown well beyond salvation. In fact, I

am old, old in a way that I can no longer run, skip or jump.

There are plenty of young folks out there more than wil-

ling to take my place in life’s grueling marathon race. Now,

I am relegated to hobbling my way toward the finish line.

I’m not complaining, mind you, but technology, like a new

pair of Nikes, has given me a somewhat emotional fleet-

footed and cushioned assist.

I can log onto Facebook, tweet my likes and dislikes, even

extol the Googlized delicacies of my delights on line, and

all from the comfort of my recliner at home.

I can rest my aching body, and in virtual reality travel the

world, even make new friends with the light-speed power

of the Internet without so much as getting up off my ass.

Why, I am reminded of those misfortunate individuals com-

mitted to nursing homes who don’t even have fractionally

the freedom of movement as that.

Chris Hanch  8-9-15

Proof, time passes too quickly

Routine

I tell myself each morning that it is all right if I limp with

A painful hip each day. I’ve earned the right getting here

To this place in my life. It is all right if I walk the dogs slow-

ly down the same street, pass the same houses and trees.

At least we know our way and the time of day. It is all right

That I routinely eat my dinner at 6 P.M. and retire for the

Evening by 9. I am entitled to the security of my habits at

This time when the days of my life are growing shorter. It

Is all right that I am an elderly man in training for the ever-

lasting sameness which follows me more closely each day

As I patiently wait to hear the calling of my name. Not to

Worry, it’s all right. That endless routine catches up to the

Best of us eventually.

Chris Hanch  8-6-15 

Strike Three

Sometimes we’re given choices in life. In our so-called free

Society we take it for granted that it’s our right. When asked

To call the coin toss, I always choose heads. When faced with

Two directions at a crossroads, I generally choose to go left.

I have a gift of sorts when at bat in baseball, I can elect to swing

Right-handed or left. I know my power lies with the right side

Which stands clearly on the left side of the plate. It would seem

I have the best of both worlds even though chances are I’ll usually

Strike out anyway. With coin tosses and left or right turn choices

There is a 50/50 chance; batting averages in baseball are a whole dif-

ferent story. That was my reasoning for choosing non-athletic careers

To make a living. Heads!...Damn it!

Chris Hanch  8-2-15

Dreams and Prayers

Mother was not a dreamer, at least she never talked of dreams.

Never once do I recall her saying, I sure would like to visit Hawaii

Some day, or if I felt better and was fit enough, I sure would love

To Hike the Himalayas in Tibet. In fact, she never spoke of distan-

ces very far away from home. All her life was lived within a 5 to 10

Mile radius of where she was born. Father on the other hand had

More dreams than he could manage, but glued himself grudgingly

To the task of family breadwinner. The only time he left the coun-

try was during WWII when he was stationed in the Virgin Islands.

Mother and father for the most part never saw eye-to-eye, and

Rarely if ever got along. One with no dreams, the other with so

Many unfulfilled. Both, however, believed in an all-loving, all-know-

ing, all-powerful god. Both were devout Catholics who prayed every

Day, each in their own way. Neither ever heard back from him in

Their lifetimes as far as I could tell. Unfortunately, God had been

Called away by the Catholics at that time to intercede in the conver-

Sion of Russia. I cannot say for sure, but as it turned out, perhaps

Answers came for that which they were told to pray.

Chris Hanch  8-2-15