They say she was involved.
It wasn’t that which seemed likely.
Yesterday around 5 PM.
Some say several miles away.
It’s still a mystery to me.
By osmosis, I suppose
Does that answer all your questions?
Count to ten and let it go.
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Chris Hanch 5-31-2021
Makes me happy listening
to music I love.
Makes me happy on a warm
and sunny day.
Makes me happy remembering
the good old days.
Makes me happy to hear
your cheerful voice.
Makes me happy eating
a slice of chocolate cake.
Makes me happy for those glorious days
and when all my faculties are awake.
It doesn’t take a lot to make me
happy these days of old and gray.
I’m always happy
when the home town team wins.
Happy for days of healthy shits
and big old grins.
Makes me happy I had the good sense
to take your lovely picture years ago.
Happy I am reminded over and over
again of all those happy days past.
I am happy to be retired at age 74,
Happy, happy, oh, happy days before.
You, chocolate cake and regularity,
that’s all it takes;
I could always use more.
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Chris Hanch 5-30-2021
Today, a simple thought came to me.
One might think such a minor reflection
may not be worthy of forming the lines
of acceptable poetry, but nonetheless...
When once asked by me what constitutes
the basis of poetry, Sr. Mary Faith, herself
a poet and an acclaimed professor of the
Word at Benedictine College in Atchison,
Kansas told me, “First and foremost,
honesty is key.”
Well then, dear reader, according to
that lovely lady of the Lord and ven-
erated scholar, in my case herein, her
words ring true.
For this poem I place in front of
you here and now today is about as
honest a poem as I have generated
to date.
Truth be known, in the sordid and
often misguided life I have lead,
one may rest assured, there were
times for me when in all probability,
I may have offered far less. Not
because of lack of honesty, mind
you, but my willy-nilly application
of sheer stupidity.
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Chris Hanch 5-29-2021
Mom and Dad never made history.
They had three children which in-
cluded me. Not even that afforded
them any notoriety.
They were ordinary folks as people
go, run of the mill for the time. Dad
had his ordinary job, eight to five.
Mom tried her best tending to her
ordinary domestic things. She did
what she could do to make a house
a home.
As children we learned ordinary
things from them, bathing once
a week, brushing our teeth before
bed, wearing the proper attire to
play, to church and school.
We learned to behave in the pre-
sense of adults. It was ordinary to
be seen and not heard, to chew
with our mouth closed, ordinary
to pray before dinner, to say please
and thank you for everything we
received.
We were an ordinary family, nothing
special in those ordinary times, free
for the most part from mayhem, atom
bombs, polio and crime.
Mom and Dad argued a lot about
money, drinking, what needed doing
and what should not be done. I figured
most ordinary families behaved in the
same way.
Growing up, I never personally
knew anyone who was famous. At
a carnival once I met Texas Bruce who
had a daily show for kids on local TV.
He never seemed ordinary to me.
He was bigger in real life, much bigger
than I and my ordinary family could ever
hope to be. When he died, at first I was
surprised. But eventually, I learn that
even famous people must also abide
to that ordinary sort of thing.
To this day, and in my old age, some-
times I am still taken aback, however,
and I hate when the ordinary happens.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-27-2021
Got my COVID vaccination yesterday.
Think I’ll say close to home and wear
a mask anyway. Seems to me “stupid
shit” is still happening out there.
Afraid it’s another pandemic spreading
far and wide. Feel much safer, keeping
the disease-free sanity left in me, holed
up and hunkered down inside.
Now I only have Facebook with which
to contend. Seems to me people-dumped
“stupid shit” is a stinkin’ mess which has
no end.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-26-2021
Linda Bryant-Carlson
Mrs. Hildebrandt
Mr. Jefferson
Harry and Caroline Skinner
Albert and Doris Gerecht
Ed Eskew—
I am sure none of
the above names
mean anything to you,
Dear Reader.
These are the names
folks my father and I knew
from our life in Kansas City
in 1961-62. I was 14-15
at the time.
Why write them down
for you to see here
60-years later in 2021?
Well, because I happened
to recall them way back
when.
These are people,
many of whom are
long gone now, not
famous names,
just regular folks
like you and I.
Why at age 74
they happened
to revisit my mind,
I cannot say?
I suppose a reflective
old age mind somehow
accounts for one’s life
in strange ways.
For me, at least,
there is no reasonable
explanation for such a thing.
Perhaps therein lies the
concept of a Life Hereafter.
The Spirit of such a thing
of Glory resides
in the memory
of someone still alive
spontaneously
remembering.
-30-
Chris Hanch 6-23-2021
Think of all the conflagration and chaos
over the past 14-billion years it took us
to get us here.
We humans are progeny of the Universe
indeed, builders and destroyers of our own
little worlds.
We express love and hate, create and dese-
crate, record history and invent gods to
justify our actions and deeds.
Naturally in a colossal continuum, the Cosmos
does what it does. Willfully and with malice
of forethought, mankind does unto others.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-20-2021
I realize that I have made
my mistakes along the way.
Some indicate, to do what
I have done took a measure
of persistent heart and soul.
Ah but in actuality, it took a
dose of this and a smattering
of that.
All-in-all there was an amalgam
of thought, a modicum of
opportunity for me,
and a good deal of
random shooting from the hip.
And too, there were those times
I had no clue as to what to do.
I seemed to have made it thus far,
however, somehow avoiding a
disastrous toll,
raising the bet and playing
my hand just right
at times,
all the while holding an
ace in the hole.
I’m all in;
read ‘em and weep!
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-19-2021
No more sit ups or push ups
for me. Seems when I was
of an able age, muscle might
for me was never meant to be.
Thin as a rail, a tall drink of
water has always been the
makeup of my physicality.
Observation and reflection was
the exercise routine I practiced
from youth into these thoughtful
days of my old age.
The pencil, pen, paint brush and
camera are the weights I chose
to wield which flexed my muscle
memory and kept me mindfully
fit.
Hup, one, two, three..!
Eat your heart out, Charles Atlas
and Hercules.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-18-2021
Old age tells me of mortality, of others
and of ourselves. Those, such as I, who
have attained their share of years on the
Earth are aware the end is near. Perhaps
more than a matter of minutes, hours,
days, even years, but somewhere near.
We’ve all had friends and relations whose
demise was an early and unexpected surprise.
No one at any age has a bonded guarantee.
But there comes a time when you need to
prepare for the inevitability of mortality.
Old age tells us that we are no longer able
physically or mentally as we used to be.
Granted there are those who may look
or perform better than many of their age,
but don’t be fooled, my friends, time is,
has always been a degenerative disease.
Old age tells us when we hear in the news of
the famous and revered we have grown up
with have died, our number being called is
is only a matter of time.
Old age tells us of that which we can and
can no longer achieve. Old age tells us with
every season, and for good reason, there
is a beginning and an end.
Now, there are many who believe in a
life hereafter. And I’m not trying to mess
with anyone’s faith and thoughts on eter-
nity, but personally, I believe it would be
boring for even the good stuff to last
forever.
Old age tells me I’d best cherish what’s
left in this life for me. Kind of makes me
grateful even for my debilitating and
chronic aches and pains.
Someone once told me (and the guy was
no famous guru or Svengali, but rather
let’s say more of an armchair philosopher):
“At least with the pain, you know you’re
still alive.”
I suppose it all boils down to this: Mostly
old age tells me, if I am remembered
when I’m gone, that will have to be good
enough for me.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-17-2021
I spent some time
today
doing a few notable
things.
I spent a measure
of time today
for which I have
nothing
at all to say.
Call me lazy,
call me crazy,
call me actively
engaged.
I won’t go into detail
for that would prove
to be a waste of time.
Suffice it to say,
you are now using
your time
to view these lines
commensurate
in a way
with the time
it took me
to make them.
Time well spent
or frivolously
thrown away,
who is to say?
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-12-2021
Funny face all weather worn and weary
Funny place to find love and hate
Funny time of day to sit and contemplate
Funny reasoning the mind provides
the ocean, the beach, high mountain’s reach,
the dessert, the plains, back roads and interstates,
funny places every which way
Not funny ha, ha, but funny strange and weird
Funny everywhere appears
Oh funny, funny me
The mirror image me is everywhere I seem to be
I pinch the flesh...Pain!
Funny reality
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-11-2021
Blinking is a function
which comes naturally,
occasionally or rapidly,
depending on what
you see. Of course
while asleep, one with
their eyes closed has
no need to blink.
There are times things
will happen to pass
quickly in the blink
of an eye. And one
need not be a baseball
player to flirtatiously
bat an eye. Should
you, however take a
chance, the fast
ball will get by you
for a strike. Be wise,
my friend, three of
those, and in the blink
of an eye, you’re out.
-30-
Chris Hanch 510-2021
Several years ago I contacted the curator of the
25th Infantry Division Historical Museum in
Oklahoma City regarding the cartoon works of
artist, Bill Mauldin. During World War II at the
beginning of his service, Mauldin was assigned
to that unit.
Later, after his artistic talent was recognized,
Mauldin was re-assigned to work for The Stars
and Stripes military newspaper.
Today, the infantry museum displays many of
Mauldin’s original hardship and satirical cartoon
depictions of G.I. situations during World War II.
It’s worth mentioning that Mauldin was a two
time recipient of the Pulitzer Prize for his
cartoon work.
When I was a child, my father, a veteran of WWII,
gave me his government issued paper-back copy
of Mauldin’s, Up Front. Mauldin and his cartoons
were an inspiration to me. I have relied on my
caricatures and whimsical cartoon renderings
for a good deal of my life.
A few years ago, I had done a sculpture honoring
Mauldin’s featured G.I. characters, Willie and Joe.
I asked the museum’s curator if he would be inter-
ested in displaying my art piece. He not only de-
clined my offer, but threatened to file a law suit
against me if I used the title of “Willie and Joe” in
any way, shape or form associated with my work.
I came back at him, “You go right ahead, I could
certainly use the publicity.” But I decided to let
the whole issue go, and went on my merry way.
I wanted to give Bill Mauldin credit for my inspiration,
so appropriately I titled my artwork, After Bill Mauldin’s,
Willie and Joe.
Mauldin’s artistic legacy shall long outlive me and my
rendering of Willie and Joe. And as for that red-neck, Okie
museum, curator’s name, it’s not worth remembering or
mentioning either.
-30-
Chris Hanch 5-10-2021
