Pigeon-hole Me

You can pigeon-hole me in the white-male category. And

I’ll argue but explain—I had no choice in such matters,

I was born this way.

In past days you could pigeon-hole me as tall, a drink of

water or a bean pole for as a teenager I was thin, having no

heft to me at all.

In my time, I have traveled to many places, have seen a

world of faces, and I’ve held myriad jobs to get me through.

Pigeon-hole me as a worker on the move.

Pigeon-hole me as an artist for I’ve painted, drawn and

sculpted over the years. Others admit to me, they can’t draw

a straight line. My secret to them, I use a ruler to draw mine.

Pigeon-hole me, if you please, as a poet, and writer. I would

say, you evolve and hopefully become what you practice with

passion every day over time.

And when I’m done and have nothing more to claim, I’ll take

on most any name—son-of-a-bitch some may say. Pigeon-hole

me for eternity, I’ll have no more ruffled feathers to display.

Chris Hanch 3-16-17

Inertia

Inertia. If you were to stop me on the street

Today (which would be unusual, for I don’t

Plan to be on the street today) and you were

To ask me, what is the first thing which comes

To mind, I’d have to say, inertia. You would

Then certainly look at me inquisitively, likely

To say, a most unusual thought indeed. And

Should you be familiar with that word, inertia,

You may figure I had a physics problem mulling

Around in my brain. No, I am mathematically

And scientifically challenged, I would be compel-

Led to tell you. I happened to get out of bed this

Morning with that word, inertia, confronting me

First thing. Perhaps it sprang up suddenly in a

Dream. The dictionary explains: Inertia—

a property of matter by which it continues in

its existing state of rest or uniform motion in

a straight line, unless that state is changed

by an external force.

Now that definition shines a new light on my

Present condition. And by virtue of time, I was

Propelled to awaken even though my previous

State was still asleep. I opened my eyes as my

Brain remained languishing comfortably in

Peace. The external force at work here was the

Stunning daylight shining through my bedroom

Window which opened the eyes, leaving my state

Of mind behind in the deep repose of last night. It

Was a shock to my system to say the least when

I came to this abrupt landscape of dawning

Reality. Still confused? So was I, until I man-

Aged to awaken my sensibilities, to align eye

And mind in a sudden jolt of actual physicality

With copious slurps from my first cup of coffee.

In layman’s lingo, that’s inertia as I see it. And given

My alternate reality and confounding explanation,

Aren’t you relieved we didn’t meet me on the street

This morning?

Chris Hanch 3-12-17

The Meaning of Life

As hatchling turtles cross the sands of time,

safely reaching the eternity of the sea,

as the child swings higher, and is lowered by

the force of gravity, higher, lower, repeat,

as the car motors down the street,

its speed excels and slows with pressure to the

peddles applied by the feet,

as the tree grows, the wind blows, the rain

freezes turning into sleet,

one revolution of Earth, and the day ends replete,

as the drum synchronizes rhythmically to a

cadence of the heartbeat…

Heat...

Greet...

Treat…

Sheet...

As time passes, the monotony of this rhyming

is destined to retreat

as at last (and it was bound to happen inevitably),

the boy and girl finally meet,

and the application of this preposterous amalgamation,

thank God, is nearly complete.

This exercise of mine should have ended where

it began, when the hatchling turtles

made it safely to the eternity of the sea.

And, I trust you and I agree, that is truly

a story worth repeating, speaking existentially.

Chris Hanch 3-11-17 

The Sun-shower of Words

With the sun each morning comes a shower

Of words to fill the Earth. And those who

Choose to speak early have their pick of the

Crop. The tacit must wait and feed latter

On what remains. It’s sort of the “Early Bird”

Axiom only that words are more palatable to

Humans than are worms. Now here is some-

Thing odd and rarely considered by those of

Us who rise early—How does the sun know

Which language to correctly assign from all

Those words beamed down to us at the dawn-

Ing of each and every day? Swedes always

Get their Swedish, French receive “Parlez-vous

Francais?” appropriately, Italians get a heaping

Dose of “buongiorno” to greet their neighbors

Properly in the morning. The sun has been per-

Forming this sort of thing long enough to know

That English goes to Americans, Canadians, the

Brits, the Aussies, New Zealanders and such.

I am truly amazed with the profuse deluge of

Words which overwhelm my sensibilities each

Day. It’s a wonder I can select the proper text

To convey my message in the first place. I try,

But at times I fail. It makes perfect sense to me

That due to the meager pickings which remain

At the end of day, those who work through the

Night or they who cannot sleep have far fewer

Words left to say. Now, here’s the reasoning on

Which I predicate my theory of words which

Shower the Earth every day. I am baffled to

Have captured the word “baffled” today, for

Yesterday, whether in its past or present tense,

“Baffled” never even entered the vocabulary

Of words which currently permeate my brain.

Words, I bask in the sun-shower of their light
Each and every day.

Chris Hanch 3-10-17

This Morning

I awoke this morning

again, not as king, not president or general,

nor any other such thing.

I awoke this morning older, and as yesterday

and the day before, just as broke,

nothing more.

This morning I awoke to the news— a worldwide

disposition of

disquiet, unrest and disarray.

This morning I awoke much the same

as any other day, aching with arthritic hips

and monthly bills to pay.

I awoke this morning grateful again

with no bejeweled throne to sit upon, no esteemed oval

office to attend, nor any embattled fields to defend.

Coffee is a brew, the porcelain pot awaits its daily due.

And as for the rest of you—don’t bother to text, twitter,

Instagram, Facebook or call me until after 10AM.

I awoke this morning older, and as yesterday

and the day before, just as broke...

a world in disarray, and a few goddamn bills to pay.

Chris Hanch 3-8-17

About My Place in Tme

I haven’t kept count, but all the “Pleases” and

“Thank yous” probably made a difference. I

Know for sure that the times I turned and walked

Away led me to a different place. We never give a

Second thought to rubbing our eyes, tearful or dry.

For us, some things are lessons learned; some things

Come naturally. I’m watching the sycamore out

Back beyond the patio. It grew in appreciation

Of the sun and rain. I listen as a mourning dove

Perched on a branch calls out to its mate. Nearby,

Although I cannot see from where, a cooing call

Comes in return. Along with a measure of sunshine

And rain, those countless “Please and “Thank yous”

Of mine brought me to this place and time. I took

A certain path some years back, and here I sit today.

Sunshine this morning, last night, the rain. A dove

Calls out from the branches of a sycamore to its

Mate. With one more “Please” or one fewer “thank

You” along the way, possibly I’d be seeing an oak

Tree and listening to a blue jay screeching instead.

Chris Hanch 3-7-17

Believe It or Not

Look up into the nighttime sky.

That star configuration over there,

That’s the Big Dipper, and the light

From those stars, the light you see

Right now took many thousands of

Years to get here. And so it was for

Those who saw the same arrangement

Thousands of years ago—the light

Seen at that time was the light from

Thousands of years before them.

And so it goes on and on like that

All the way back to before...well,

Let’s just say to before all those

Stars fell into place, to this day

To become what we now know as

The Big Dipper. And I imagine

Before early man invented dippers,

Before his descendants saw the

Similarities of the dipper and those

Stars configured in a visually similar

Way, the light which took thousands

Of years to get here were perhaps known

By early man merely as pinholes in the

Nighttime Sky. No one way back then had

A clue as to how old those pinholes were,

Or for that matter, which came first, the

Pinholes or the dipper? It was a bit later

On in man’s history that astronomy

Was invented to come up with some

Answers. And, in light of that which

You are seeing now, it took thousands

Of years to get here.

Chris Hanch 3-6-17