About the Author

About the Author

Chris Hibbard

A poem
by Chris Hibbard

Where I’m From

I’m from the loins of good stock.
From Lennon and Marley and Dylan and Hendrix,
A rock and a hard place and other clichés
I’m from optimism and dreams, romance and foolishness
Metaphorical mountaintops and the bottoms of bottles
From Ireland and England by way of Ontario
The school of hard knocks and educated by Life
Not the game nor the cereal, and not the magazine
I’m from social activities and privately public office
The tip of a pen, not the barrel of a gun
One tiny spark of an idea – a forest ablaze
Love under moonlight
I’m from little brother syndrome and baby boy blues
Mandatory Sunday School sentencing
The pages of paperbacks and overdue bills
The ends of the earth and the centre of the universe
Even the bottom of the sea
I’m from treble, bass, and volume control
Cassette tapes and vinyl
Bongo drums and guitar strings
From Russia with Love, from Here to Eternity
I’m from Tarantino, the Death Star, Zip-Zow and Zing!
Kerouac and Kipling, Kafka and Keats, Koontz and King
Rolling Stones and Billboards and Calgary Heralds
From puppy paws and bird calls, kitten whiskers and fish tales
From karma and fate and other coincidence
Accidents planned and pregnancies not
I’m from mistakes I have learned from and ones I repeat
Punctuation and grammar and run-on sentences
Picnic baskets and slingshots, Frisbees and walking sticks
Soft sandy beaches and minnows in nets
T-shirts and ripped jeans, sneakers with grass stains
Callouses and sunburns
I’m from trampolines and tent pegs, back seats and old habits
Jeopardy, chess, tile rummy and cribbage
Bad posture, good manners and Halloween treats
From point A to point Z on a Long Winding Road
I’m from the loins of good stock