68-years

Behind this, 68-years in the making.

Between the lines, the anger of the world

Held at bay. Hidden in plain sight, saint

And sinner in a heated exchange. Work

Days worked away until no sweat remains.

Now you see it; now you don’t. Whatever

You understand has faded away. Yes, in

Front of the morning mirror words are

Gathered for distribution throughout the

Day. Rolled up into one, all the places

Ever traveled, ever lived vaguely resemble

Buffalo in the winter. All the angles have

Been bent out of shape, as the lines are

Drawn and hastily erased. What went

Into this obtuse scribble I have written

Today? More, much, much more than I

Dare to say. It was, however, 68-years

In the making.

Chris Hanch  12-30-15

Every Day the Same

The old dog sits up from his sleep

With that far off look in his eyes.

I sometimes wonder what he would

Say if he could talk. More than likely

He would say, I like every day the

Same. I feel safe and secure that way.

It is my job as his care-taker to ensure

He feels safe and secure each day.

In a way, I feel safe and secure knowing

He feels and acts the same every day,

So we eat and sleep, we wake and walk

Every day pretty much the same. Only

Problem with me being human is, I know

That one day there will come a change.

I can’t stop the aging process which

Grows more weighty over both of us

With each passing day. Change is gaining

On us, my old friend. Lucky dog, you

Can’t see it coming. You lie back down

And go back to sleep comforted the same.

You are blessed in your sleep; I am cursed

In my thoughts. Sleep, my old friend; I shall

Stand watch.

Chris Hanch  12-27-15

The Watch

The Watch

One day, and one not that far away, someone

Will invent a watch which will tell its wearer

How well or not they are doing every minute,

Every hour of every day. Technology is just that

Amazing these days. Now this watch will give

You a cell count, how many good cells and bad,

What your chemistry make-up is up to on any

Given day. Your kidneys are normal, but a blad-

der infection is detected—See a physician immedi-

ately. Your blood sugar is a bit low, eat a Snickers

Bar and be on your way. Feeling sluggishly low?

Your serotonin levels are woefully inadequate. You

Are genetically predisposed. One day, and that day

Is not so far away, someone at Apple or Microsoft

Will come up with a digital watch which will take

The place of your family physician as far as diagnosis

Goes. It will give you an instant update of your physi-

cal and mental condition. Why, it will even accurate-

ly tell its wearer when his or her time is up—You’d

Best get your affairs in order; there is still some time

Remaining to say your goodbyes. Press accept

To see how much.

Chris Hanch  12-25-15

There Comes a Time

When you reach a certain age and your

services are no longer required, you then

question everything you’ve ever learned.

Habits, good and bad, which you had ac-

quired over a lifetime provide the only

impetus for carrying on.

You tie your shoes automatically, eat your

meals with punctual regularity, retire and

rise at the appointed times.

You have forgotten more information than

half the Earth’s human inhabitant’s will ever

know.

And still you are wise enough to realize,

when the goldfish floats belly-up in its bowl,

that’s not a good sign.

Chris Hanch  12-23-15

Scenes from Center High School Production of Once on This Island, Kansas City, Missouri, USA.

Good Day/ Bad Day

Today, many Syrians will have a bad day; some

Muslims will have a good day; as for the Mexi-

cans, depending upon which region they are

From, it could go either way. Chief Joseph and

Thomas Edison, well for them and all who have

Departed, every day is the same. As for me, I

have arisen a bit weaker than yesterday. It’s

Nothing major, mind you, just another inch or

Two closer to the yardstick’s end. But who is

Taking measurements of such things, anyway?

For now, as I begin another day of my non-rigor-

ous routine, I shall choose the “good day” category

To ease my way through. And hopefully, a good

Day it shall be, should nothing fail mechanically,

Electronically or biologically upon which I depend.

I am neither Syrian, Muslim nor Mexican, so in that

Regard I’m good to go. As for the Chief Joseph and

Thomas Edison predicament, well, like any other day

On the unbiased, non-prejudicial planet, I’ll just have

To muddle through with the rest of you and take my
Chances.

Chris Hanch  12-18-15  

A Valued Lesson Learned

A valued lesson I have learned from the Earth—must

keep moving. And I’ve been taught something of worth

from the moon—must keep moving. The sagacious sun

has assigned—must keep moving most of the time.

Even on a galactic level, Milky Way spirals round as if

to say—must keep moving every minute of every day.

I do, however, nap from time to time, and I tend to

pause and rest more frequently as I age.

My orbit has been reduced by gravitational forces ap-

plied, and I must admit, although my axial spin is a bit

wobbly as of late, I have managed to remain in motion

(albeit slow and sluggish) most of my days.

Chris Hanch  12-17-15

  

The Gift

At birth there was a package with your name on it waiting for you.

Not to be alarmed or surprised, everybody gets one, rich and poor

man alike. After you’ve made it through the shock of the birth canal

And that terrifying plunge into the atmosphere of life, after you’ve

Completed your infant routine, now knowing your fingers and toes,

And having become aware that soiled diapers are a messy and un-

comfortable thing, you begin to slowly unwrap that mysterious pack-

age which has been waiting for you. You are now ready for that long

And arduous journey into conscious thought and remembering. Fully,

Half of the contents given you is sprinkled with truth and wisdom, and

The other half contains a fabricated passel of falsehood fantasy and lies.

Now, it is your life’s work to find out which is which. You may begin.

Chris Hanch  12-16-15 

Scenes from Center High School Production of Once on This Island

For the Love of the Game

The years gone by are memorable indeed,

not unlike those baseball cards I collected

when I was a boy.

Oh, I have been around for a while, but never

quite made it to the Big Show. Most of us live

out the best and worst of our days in the Minors.

And that’s okay, I suppose. We do what we do

for the love of the game. Here’s a good one of

me when I was about your age—

So young, so determined, standing at

home plate, gripping the bat for all I’m worth,

and swinging for the fences.

Chris Hanch  12-14-15

Birds of Paradise

It goes beyond the original sin of Adam and Eve,
That hunger for knowledge which was cast upon all

Of us who followed out of Eden. The birds may feast
Freely upon any fruit they desire. It has always been

The case. They sail through the skies at will un-
bound with no god or serpent to restrict them,

Those unblemished souls feather light in flight. 

Chris Hanch  12-8-15