Time Moves Along

Rushing memories,
Fleeting emotions,
Songs of a cold basement,
Signs of the bad
And worse
Of times.

Rays of brightness
Slow a running mind with
Cooling thoughts and
Songs of enlightenment,
Signs of the most exciting
And frightening
Of times.

A brilliant dimness,
The perfect antidote
To the ups and downs,
A song of truth and love,
Signs of eternal commitment
And security
Within these times.

Ways To Philly

The regular road,
Memories thicker than the traffic,
Riding in a hot school bus
Instead of a freezing cargo van.
I can smile at the past
Even as the present promises
To fill my head with
New thoughts.

Orientation

Nod.
Affirm.
Yes.
Sit.
Listen.
Endure.

Do as they say.
Not as they do.
Messages vaguely mean something.
Suggestions sound like orders.
Play their little game.
Enjoy the competition.

Get Out of Your Lane

Natural human behaviors
Seem so unfathomable to me.
I hear “the way people should act,”
And I wonder why it is that
I am unable
To do them naturally?

Why don’t I ask how others are feeling?
Why do I avoid delving into others’ personal lives?
I want them to be okay,
I care that they not suffer,
I know coping is not easy,
Yet, I feel like I shouldn’t ask how they are.

Fear.
Selfishness?
Private.
Ambivalent?
Living blindly.
Cold?

Probably, all of those,
But being on the inside doesn’t feel good to me.
After a life of looking away
I don’t know how to look out of me,
Even though, I won’t hurt others
Except when I’m not asking, I hear that I really am.

I’m sorry, everyone,
I haven’t got people figured out,
Maybe I gave up on them after my brother died,
Or my coach went to prison, or I understood
How badly people can treat each other.

Perhaps I retreated,
Thinking that if I just go day to day
That would be enough.
The logic being, I can’t be hurt
If I don’t bother with others.
Am I wrong?

Not Making the Team

Hopefully, I learn
When my best is not enough
Sports teach tough lessons

One Side of the Tracks

All rights reserved-Chris Hancock

About half a mile from downtown… Sad.

Training Again. Why?

Beginning is hard
Father and daughter running
Future suffering

A Sunday Haiku

Thick haze hanging low
Birds banter in the tall trees
Sunday morning treats