A Moment in Time

A speck of dust, then a grain of sand,

A small plot of land, and then a beach

Spread out in its entirety bordering the

Sea. We begin small then grow large in

Maturity, the fishes, the turtles, then

Me. The forever sky holds the sun by

Day then the moon at night. I sit by the

Sea, and the sunset, the stars blooming

One by one—eternity. And a moment,

This one moment, a flash of time in the

Heavens and on Earth,  then me.

Chris Hanch 5-31-17

Beware

For those of us alive then, a part of us died

When the Kennedys were assassinated. Many

Of our liberties, no matter race, color or creed,

Were repealed the day Martin Luther King Jr.

Was shot. Each of us must share in the shame

For the genocide which followed along the Trail

Of Tears. Some religious claim that from infancy

Our souls were stained with the Original Sin of

Adam and Eve. And in our lifetime we, each and

Each and every one of us, are denied the grace

And delight of Paradise. Let us not forget all the

Heads which turned away from 6-million Jews

Who where exterminated during World War II.

Not one of us asked to be born into this world

In which we live. Many of us were named

Without our expressed permission. For better

Or worse, we are compelled by unseen forces

To continue along this bloodline infused into

Our beings. Impulsively, without regret or

Second-guess, we raise a hand to pick at

Scabs or scratch an irritating itch. When the

Commander yells, charge, the ranks fall in and

Follow. From the beginning, promises made

Have been invariably broken. There is a heavy

And cumbersome weight to bare by all who are

Aware, for those who even dare to contemplate

And care. No one said this was going to be easy,

My friends. If they have, you were either lied to

Or seriously misled.

Chris Hanch 5-29-17  

Books (for Consuella)

Books, from which in life, I have learned with

Pictures and words. Books, written and bound,

Which grace the shelves of library, boutique

And home, books I have borrowed and owned,

Books received as gifts, and those I have loaned,

Even books carelessly burned or never returned.

Thank you, authors and publishers, for the hard

And soft bound, the illustrated and gilded, the

Laid and handmade. Praise for the press printed

Contribution to mankind Gutenberg made. Indeed,

Of what diminished value would life be without

The stimulating pleasure of a good read? Ah,

Beloved and valued books, treasure chests filled

With more than silver and gold, I open with great

Expectations each day. Books, a wealth of revela-

Tion on each page—the substance of you and me,

Word for word, in each line to find, a free and

Glorious sharing of what the universe has to say.

Chris Hanch 5-28-17

These Words I Use

Politicians and poets used these words before me.
Scholars and barons of business, journalists and
Brick layers have written and spoken every word
I place here on this page. You, dear friends, and

All of our foes, foreign and domestic, generals and
Engineers have each made their inferences and
Claims, all pretty much the same. Granted, Caesar
Had his Latin and Freud his German. Homer and

Socrates philosophized in Greek. Shakespeare, well
Shakespeare, some say, may have said it all. My
Fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Perry, spoke to me concisely
And precisely, sometimes using formulas and equations,

Hoping I would one day come to understand. All my
Life, it seems, I have been on this linguistic journey
Trying to expound, express and expand. To my credit,
I have learned to dot all of my “Is” and cross every “T.”

I try applying the appropriate phraseology to hopefully
Be more clearly understood. But mostly, Webster, in his
Hefty and defining volume has generously provided all
The substance and meaning for me thoughtfully arranged

Alphabetically. Over the past decade or so, Spellcheck has
Helped me appear more educated and astute than I on my
Have a right to be, by technologically righting the wrongs
Of my most egregious misspellings before anyone else who
Happens to read them gets to see.

Chris Hanch 5-27-17

Shakespeare's Final Play

The spotlight goes dark, and the curtain drops.

The cast and crew have left the theater. It is

Then you come to realize that this whole damn

Production was nothing but a farce. You are

Now left standing naked and alone in the dark,

Having performed such a minor part.

You delivered the lines given you to say. It really

Didn’t matter all that much; the character you

Played sucked anyway.

Chris Hanch 5-26-17

Setting the Scene

I had nothing to do with that Jesus thing where

Judas sold him out for thirty pieces of silver.

I did not take part in Caesar's crossing of the

Rubicon. Nor did I help heard a trail of Hannibal's

Elephants across the Alps. I missed the signing of

The Declaration of Independence by a couple hun-

Dred years. I did, however, awaken on a Western

Nebraska farm on a chilled March morning several

Years ago. I recall being the first one up in that house-

Hold just after the break of dawn. I made some fresh

Coffee, looked out the frosted kitchen window and

Saw a small herd of cattle a few yards off under a stand

Of cottonwood trees. Each steer wore a blanket of

Snow on their back which had fallen as I slept the night

Before. This static event was not of biblical or historical

Significance, but at least I was present. And, it did paint

A serene pastoral scene on the canvass of my psyche

Which will hang in the museum of my memory forever.

I sipped my coffee slowly, and with great satisfaction.

It was brewed as I like it—hot, black and strong.

Chris Hanch 5-25-17

Image

“Fake it until you make it.”

That is a popular premise

For many who attend AA.

And some hold out hope

That soon change will even-

Tually sweep over them and

Everything will somehow be

Okay. As for me personally,

I happen to ascribe to uncover-

Ing the truth. And believe me,

My friends, that is no easy phi-

losophy by which to live. It is

Far easier to present a face of

Well-being in the presence of

Others. But, there does come

A time when the rough stubble

Of doubt grows mightily out of

Control. It then may become

Necessary for one to take a long

Hard look at one’s self in the

Mirror. A clean shave may be

In order, but then again that may

Be carrying things a bit too far.

Perhaps a modest trim would be

More appropriate. A shower and

Clean shirt would be helpful as

Well in advancing the appearance

Of change. You can forget that

Generous splash of repugnant

Cologne, though. Most people

Are not the fools you make them

Out to be. They know, beneath
That glowing and well-groomed

Exterior projected, things are not
All that rosy-sweet.

Chris Hanch 5-24-17

Thought Sharing

It is in the simple, often the everyday which

Begs to question, What were You thinking?

Today my thoughts lead me to wonder, when

He heard sirens screaming down the street,

What did father imagine? He is gone now

And I have no answer.

When mother was alive and stepped from

The house on a fine spring day, did she fo-

Cus on the fragrant tulips blooming along

The sidewalk? I shall never know. As Uncle

Bill drove to work, was his family on his

Mind at the time or was there trouble wait-

Ing for him at his office when he arrived?

So many ideas we seem to grab randomly

Lying groggily awake before rising. Is there

Joy or pain, exuberance or shame? And,

What of yesterday, what will come of us

Today? We rarely share that which wan-

Ders uninvited into our imaginings.

Do you care that as I watched the senator

From my state answer questions from the

Reporter on TV, that although I am seventy

Years old, I see her in her fifties as older

Than I? Why does my frame of mind lead

Me to believe that I am more youthful than

Some who in actuality are younger than I?

What would you consider as you read

These lines of mine? Can you openly

Share your innermost thoughts today,

Even should many consider them mun-

Dane? I, myself, heard sirens off in the

Distance this morning. Fires in a large

City such as mine are a common occur-

Rence, hardly worth mentioning, unless

You or I happen to be involved.

This may sound trivial to you with all you

Must have going on today, but have you

Noticed that the tulips are especially lovely

This year?

Chris Hanch 5-23-17

Into the Blue

It’s early, shortly after dawn, a wondrous and cool,

Blue, spring morning. In the crab apple tree just a

Few feet off the patio in my apartment backyard,

A fledgling starling sings, walloping, exercising,

Testing it’s newly feathered wings. What will be-

Come of the world today? I, being neither sooth-

Sayer, prognosticator or seer of worldly fortunes

Have not a clue. What is to be mine, I will handle

Hopefully appropriately as it appears. You, well

For you, it is for you to say, for all of you, each in

Your own way. For many there will be a new be-

Ginning; and then for many more, an ending will

Come. For the fledgling, I shall venture to say, in

A most natural earthly way, I predict with a fair

Percent of accuracy, he or she will leap from its

Branch of security, and for the first time fly into

A wondrous and cool, blue, spring morning. And

As for me here and now watching the day unfold,

I need to know no more.

Chris Hanch 5-22-17

A Matter of Semantics

Whose to blame? We can make excuses all day long.

We accept; we deny; we see the world through our

Own eyes. Some claim the whole thing was a big

Mistake. There are those who will say: The choice

Is up to you; take it or leave it. We can follow, we

Can lead, beg, steal or borrow, take no prisoners or

Concede. There are words we can apply to most any

Given situation. At times we are speechless. Dumb-

Founded is one such saying we may apply trying to

Define the otherwise undefinable. When I say that I

Am truly amazed; you contend that all along, you

Were not surprised. On so many levels, we just don’t

Appear to see eye-to-eye. Okay, so then I propose,

It is that we may agree to disagree. But it is not a

Marvel indeed, that thus far mankind has somehow

Managed to survived? Will wonders ever cease?

Possibly could be, but logically one could argue...

Chris Hanch 5-21-17

The Cycle

Out my window the grass grows.

Every Tuesday, the lawn people

Come with their mowers and cut

The past week’s growth away.

With finger nails and the dog’s hair

It’s much the same. New growth,

Cut and trim the old away. The cy-

Cle of life is perpetual until aging

Inevitably sticks to every blade,

Every nail. Each and every strand

Of hair will see the day when the

Whistle of Time blows. The clock

Runs out; the fourth quarter comes

To an end—game over. There are

No ties in this game. Rules are

Rules. Slowly, reluctantly, you walk

Off the field of play. There comes a

Time and place, win or lose, even

The star players are forced to retire.

On Tuesdays, a new crew comes

To mow the lawn.

Chris Hanch 5-20-17

You Choose

There are two ways to approach this thing:

Rise early, say before 5 AM, before the

Fat, wealthy man sits up in his bed, stretches

His arms and places his feet on the floor;

Or stay up way past the neighbors, when

The late and late, late shows are over, and

All the lights have all been turned off for

The evening.

It is then, in the still and thoughtful quiet,

You realize there are no preying eyes, no

Critics to measure you from 1-to-10 on a

Sliding scale.

Should you choose, you could run the streets

Stark naked—no need for shame. Your bare

Feet glide effortlessly above the concrete

Leaving not a trace, not a hint of a trail.

Free at last, you are a breeze wafting gently

Through the trees—Whoosh! You’re gone,

And no one even knows your name. Or, should

You prefer, sit at home alone in your underwear

And write some evocative poetry...anonymously.

Chris Hanch 5-19-17

The Moon and I

Even though I go through phases of my own I am,

In part, not in lockstep with the Moon. Unlike Earth’s

Largest satellite, I have no gravitational influence over

The ocean tides. On nights of shine my reflective light

Does not shimmer brilliantly over the crest of waves.

I am, none-the-less, proud to claim a kinship with our

Majestic Lunar brother in that we do share communally

Some of the same properties contained on the Periodic

Table of Elements; both are carbon-based and faithfully

Attracted to the Earth’s influential pull. In cosmic geneal-

Ogy, our ancestry can be traced back to the parental pro-

Creation of exploded stars. Granted, the Moon and I both

Possess a dark side. In that regard, Moon is far more consi-

Derate than I at times. Perpetually, it faces Earth with its

Bright side while from time-to-time I am inclined to expose

The gloomy and unsavory cratering of my backside.

What in hell did you expect? I am merely human, you know.

Chris Hanch 5-18-17    

Yet Another Life Lesson Learned.

In 1953 my father held our hands crossing the street.

I was six-years old, and my two brothers were seven

And five respectively. He taught us to watch out for

Cars as we made our way from one side to another.

Also, he pointed out the difference between a Chevrolet

And a Ford, how we could identify a Plymouth from a

Dodge. At the time, way back then, my brothers and I

Learned to recite the make, model and style of every

American car on the road. We didn’t bother with foreign

Made automobiles of the time. There were very few of

Those running the streets of America back then. My two

Brothers and I felt a true sense of empowerment with

Our new-found knowledge in the automotive world. And

Today, with the myriad makes and models, with the pro-

Liferation of imports cramming the highways and byways

Of our nation (given that most every type of car looks much

The same), the knowledge we gained from our father back

Then in a simpler time no longer applies. No one in the

1950s saw it coming, including our father whom we looked

Up to as the smartest man in the world. Had he a clue as to

The transformations which were to take place in the coming

Decades, he may have focused more on the realities of change.

He did, however, teach us about the Big Dipper and the North

Star, how to spot Orion, Venus and Mars. At least for now, as

We see the nighttime sky, we can rely on the appearance of

Some sort of cosmic consistency. That is, I have since come

To understand, until the light from those distant heavenly

Bodies eventually reaches us differently. Even out there in

The depths of space, change is not only natural, but constant

And inevitable. In the heavens as well as on Earth, time and

Change are linked inexorably. But persistently for me at

least, and to this day, one thing remains—I hold firmly onto

My affinity for those classic 1950's Chevrolets.

Chris Hanch 5-14-17  

Today, Another Day on Planet Earth

What I have, what I want, what I seek.

Today, another day on Planet Earth.

Another day is what I have, dragging

Mementos of the past behind me.

Should I keep it simple, and not grapple

With the unreasonable, I shall realize

What I want. I’ll begin with my ability,

Being aware and respectful of my age

And physical liabilities. Rather than wage,

War on gravity which weighs heavier

Upon me with each advancing day, I

Shall sit and rest a spell when the down-

Ward pull becomes too demanding. It’s

More practical when I’m seated in a chair

Which then shares the applied strain of

Natural Earthly forces. There, that’s much

Better. What I want, and had the foresight

To bring with me is a mug of piping hot

Coffee. In my many years as a consumer

And self-proclaimed connoisseur of morning

Brew, I have determined that brand is no

Longer a factor. Served hot and black is all

Which actually matters...Ahh, perfect! Now

That my first two requisites for the day have

Been achieved, only that “which I seek”

Remains. I hold the remote control in my

Hand, and have selected the background

Music to stimulate my mood. Currently,

Mozart presents the melody to serenade

My appropriately situated place in time.

Bravo! Let the writing begin. Simplicity,

The key for me, has once again been suc-

Cessfully achieved. “Today, another day

On Planet Earth,” my thematic idea for that

Which I have sought since my awakening

Is well underway.

Chris Hanch 5-13-17      

Surprise!!!

Let us be reminded, even the granite mountain

Can melt, the most gigantic star can explode.

Without our permission, the deepest ocean could

Evaporate into thin air. Any king, no matter his

Arrogance or power, can be dethroned. Let us not

Forget, there are limitations levied by which the

Laws of nature must be obeyed. With deliberate

Intention or carelessness, words can be arranged

To take on an ambiguous shape. Astrophysicist,

Neil DeGrasse Tyson, sagaciously claims, “The

Universe is under no obligation to make sense to

you.” And still, when the key is turned, we expect

The car will start. As humans here on Earth, we

Claim to be ever amazed, and yet always expect

Some rational explanation. Why is it some may

Feign surprise to find that bullshit in the rose garden

Still stinks; and Trump as President could never in a

Million years Make America Great Again? Just saying…

Chris Hanch 5-12-17

Sharing the Blame

By the way, I got to wondering, in my lifetime how many chickens

did it take to feed me, allowing me to live this life today? I must also

consider that several cows and pigs were involved in the carnage which

took place in order to nourish me adequately over the years.

How many apples, oranges, bananas and pears sacrificed there skins

so that I might thrive? And how many of Shakespeare’s and Webster’s

words, or Bantam and Doubleday books were summarily devoured to

satiate my ravenous appetite for knowledge and power?

And how many chords ingested from Beethoven, Bach and Brahms has

it taken to inspire, relax and relieve me? Consider what it takes to survive

over a lifetime? How many lions, tigers, bears and despots did our fore-

fathers spear, shoot or otherwise chase away so that we may live the lives

we live today as self-centered and oft-times unreasonable human beings,

and not merely as prey? Just because we were born somewhere near the

the apex of the food chain doesn’t relieve us from our share of the blame.

Remember, it has been said—you are what you eat—You animal, You!

Chris Hanch 5-11-17

She, He, Me

She was a bright baby blue at birth

And has over time been reduced
To a pale and dulled version of that.
These days, after seventy-years on
The road and still running, she can

No longer achieve a zero to sixty
Speed in eight seconds or less, but
Still sputters and putters around to
Somehow get me about. (Even though
She is actually a he, I refer to him as

She in honor of and respect for the
Opposite sex.) Some would claim,
Due to her age that she’s a classic.
In her current condition, others may
Call her a heap. But the nuts and bolts

Of reality for me is that she, in her mis-
Firing and dilapidated way continues
To earn her keep. She abhors the cold
Weather, resisting to turn over on
Blustery winter days, and tends to boil

Over when subjected to exposure of
Summer’s excessive humidity and heat.
Her MPGs are no longer economical,
But still she manages at all cost to earn
Her keep. A good mechanic may estimate

Her worth in terms of her weight as scrap.
And who am I to argue with that? But, my
Friends, in the final analysis, she’s all I’ve
Got. This transportation of which I speak
Is neither car nor truck, not a vehicle of

The all-wheel, cross-over variety. It hap-
Pens to be flesh and blood reality, a de-
Scriptive summary of deteriorating muscle
And bone which I must now refer to reluc-
Tantly as, “Rickety Old Jalopy, Me.”

Chris Hanch 5-10-17

A Perilous Adventure

Mt. Everest, that rock has its reputation.

It has claimed the lives of scores of

climbers. It has become known as a stone

cold killer, although it never held malice

or intent to do harm. Nothing personal

but...

There is no fortune, no gold, emeralds or

diamonds to be had by scaling its granite

face, only fame to be claimed by planting

a symbolic flag of victory at its summit.

Many souls have frozen, fallen or other-

wise expired in an attempt to achieve

those dizzying, near invincible heights.

Quietly, that famed rock of supreme

grandeur and solitude shall forever hold

the names of both victors and losers who

have stared death in the face in order

to make that perilous trek to the top of

the world.

I for one, being neither a mountain goat,

Sherpa nor adventurer, would rather extol

my admiration and praise from a safe dis-

tance and at a lower altitude. Preferably, I’d

feel most secure taking the more ecconom-

ically prudent tour from home in my living

room while casually flipping through the

full-color pages of a National Geographic

Magazine cradled firmly in my lap.

Given my aversion to the perils of moun-

tain climbing, you may be wondering

what on Earth possessed me to invoke

the imagery of climbing Mt. Everest

today? Well, I got to thinking about my

aching arthritic hips and the two flights

of stairs it takes to negotiate this afternoon

in order just to get my mail. And for what,

goddamn bills?

Chris Hanch 5-9-17

A Vision

Out beyond the patio of my apartment, I’d say twenty

Or thirty yards or so, there is a grassy berm. It is a fine,

well-groomed and steep climb, probably forty or so feet

High, high enough to block my view of everything beyond,

Except for leafy tree tops and blue sky. Having previously

Established my location here in this place on Earth, I know,

Even though that berm hides the horizon from me, the

Direction I face happens to be West, the West were Kansas

Begins and continues on to the Rocky Mountains, and then

Eventually to the Pacific... and on and on till the West, circum-

Navigated, becomes the East. And should I turn around a com-

Plete 180 degrees, I would then for certain be facing the East

Where buildings and trees there interfere with my sight of that

Other horizon, where every day the sun arises several hours

Before in another time zone far away, where I’m sure it is now

Approaching nighttime in Mumbai. Imagine the Earth from

My apartment patio in Kansas City on a clear day, a vision all

The way to Mumbai which was previously known as Bombay.

And in either direction it's another day and half a world away.

Chris Hanch 5-8-17

Magic

We’ve all seen it with our own eyes,

The magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat.

How did that happen? “It’s magic,” the

Prestidigitator grins wily to explain.

We never cease to be amazed that the

Elephant is made to disappear live on

Stage. Magic, indeed, many believe.

Those in the profession of deception

Are sworn to secrecy. They know how

It is done, but to the perplexed laymen

Their lips are sealed. From the Dark

Ages, from Black Magic to the Slight

Of hand today, folks are often deceived

Into believing the unbelievable. Every-

One wishes they could someday learn

How to levitate or disappear, a handy

And jaw-dropping way of avoiding the

The dangers of confrontation. In my life

As an artist and writer, I have often been

Asked how I can draw, sculpt, paint or

Come up with such creative renderings?

The real mystery to me is that I have no

Clue as to how I can summon the ability

To do what I do. As far as I’m concerned

It’s magic, something I am pre-disposed by

Nature to do. It has got to be a magical gift

Given to me. What magic lies untapped

Waiting to emerge from you?

I’m waiting...Show me what you’ve got.

I can see that nothing is up your sleeve;

Go ahead, amaze me!

Chris Hanch 5-8-17