Happy New Year

i was born in 1984
my father in 1957
his father in 1926
his father in 1903

it is 2007 and all those years seem equidistant



the swell of music, the swell of water

my locks are shorn
my strength is gone




the weather is cold now. i went duck hunting with my dad and my peepaw. he smiled alot and kept mentioning good memories. also he had so many clothes on he said he felt like a teddy bear.



life is love is life

no deer to be killed
face rapped off
all i can post is partial lists



sometimes absence is nice

the leaves have changed
i have been to south dakota and watched a blizzard blow in
ducks are flying
halloween is over
futuro boots show soon
cayla's birthday soon (nov 9th, she will be 24)
i have glitter on my hands from the soap in our bathroom
also they smell like blackberries or something

in five years i will be my father's age at my birth



the great pumpkin

there was frost in the low spots this morning
so keep 'er between the ditches

sitting on the front porch of my house last night
the cap'n asked me, "where is the center of the town of Mayflower?"
i told him, "you're sitting in it."

then we walked to the post office sans lighter



suds and smoke

i like to think that suds and smokes make my life better
that those things make a decent substitute or replacement
for love and creativity...

i'm at a time in my life where i can't really express
to anyone, including myself, how i really feel.

i can't finish thoughts



thank you moon

your slow death and resurrection
your monthly wink goodnight




last night in arkadelphia i watched lots of moments
in my life, time and place, friends and relations, then and now.

it's funny how the mind triggers certain things, like squirelling
away a bottle of old tennis shoes in the back of thrio's with
good friends...and the mind misplaces others, like dancing on a
school bus in the rain.

vernacular calls life a circle, i have friends who call it
a triangle. i think a triangle is closer to the truth; one that
is drawn with those battery powered squiggle pens from grade school.



the sun sets in the west, or how my mother revealed to me the origins of rainbows and the moment seemed beautiful and not sappy

mom, the sun has really faded all the dustjackets
on the books in this case. and the fabric on this chair.
i always wonder where the color goes when the sun fades it.

it goes to make rainbows.



and this is the hope we have

that Christ died, was buried, and rose again
the third day
according to the Scriptures.

i have a wife, a job, a home,
what need do i have for
Faith and Grace and Redemption?

all the more as we see the day approaching.

pray for us sinners, now and in the
hour of our death, Amen.



i call myself

i saved poems i wrote on another computer
now i can't find them again, maybe if i went through
the last 2 and a half years of my xanga site, maybe if
my adoring fans would send me copies they saved on their

also i think i will sign my posts and comments here as


editorials killed the radio star

if my typography or italics drives you crazy i apologize, it is only meant to group my thoughts.

when hurricanes or tornadoes or tsunamis or wars or...
come along and do the things that they do,
then in turn, people come along and do the things that they do.

and the newspapers write about all of the things that get done.
bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, and good things that people do.
bad gets the most attention, but good gets some.

when good gets the attention that it gets, it gets it like this,
"the inherent goodness of humanity", "the basic desire of people to do good",
"the human spirit shines through", "insert editorial hyperbole here".

i think that lessens people.

people do bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, and good things.
they do the bad things because they are bad. they do the good things
in spite of being bad. that makes the good things all the more good.

i think

chris h


hardwood floors

my wife and i have been looking for a house to live in
i (she does too) like old houses

i grew up in one, maybe that's why,
or maybe because they are old,
and i am not

chris h


ships and tacks and ceiling wax

the capt. told me to jump ship
i asked how high

this bone is a complex fracture
(the most beautiful kind of break)

but still

chris h