Driven

 

I am no longer driven by fame.

That has always been a self-centered

egotistical game.

I am no longer driven by fortune.

Time and chances for that in my life

have passed.

I am no longer driven by goals.

I have achieved all I can expect

of me.

I am no longer driven by sex or amorous.

My willfulness and testosterone have

for some time withered on the vine.

I am no longer driven by transportation

of my own. My judgment and reflexes

are a danger to vehicular and pedestrian

traffic alike.

I am no longer driven by hopes and

dreams for the future. I am relegated

to memories and dwindling abilities due

to advanced age and physical disabilities.

I am no longer driven by schedules

and time. Schedules are meant to be

kept responsibly, and time for me is

a dwindling commodity.

I am no longer driven by vanity.

The young, handsome and virile man

I once thought I was has long since

abandoned me.

I am no longer driven by security.

Frailty and irregularity leave me

vulnerable to innumerable man-made

atrocities and natural calamities.

I am, however, still driven by a touch

of insanity, realizing the craziness and

unpredictability of life have been an

integral part of me all along.

                    -30-

Chris Hanch 9-28-2021

Thoughts to Keep in Mind

 

These days of mine are precious and painful.

I ache, you might say, in pitiful delight.

Arthritis limits me in physical activity; my mind

craves music and memories on which to feed.

These waning days of mine provide the best

and worst of times.

Excuse my borrowing a phrase from Dickens,

it gives my present days a reason to rhyme.

Pathetically disabled, yet some joy and solace in my

old age I am able to find.

-30-

Chris Hanch 9-24-2021

Something About One Thing (for Consuella)

 

A friend made a Facebook post today

which listed One Thing to Do Today

as an incentive to “get the ball” rolling

so to speak.

I took the first painful step out of bed

and maintained my balance with the

aid of a walker making my first trip to

the bathroom.

I must have taken my first breath of

the day shortly after midnight for I

was alive when I awoke opening my

eyes for the first time around 5 AM.

I won’t gross you out with the personal

details of my first visit to the bathroom,

but I managed to have held my first # one

of the day.

After drinking my morning prune

juice I’m looking forward to a # two.

Suffice it to say, when you manage

to survive making it to a ripe old

age, everything is a number’s game

to be played.

One more time for many an action

no matter the degree of difficulty

is a gift and a damned good thing,

I’d say.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-22-2021

Treasure Trove

 

I sit here and contemplate all the

places, all the scenes, all the faces

I have seen and experienced over

nearly the past seventy-five years.

Some images are more clear than

others. Some have names to be

readily recalled; others have

names which over time and in

the descending fog of my old age

have slipped away.

Thank God, I have photographs

of many people and places I have

taken. Mighty glad I did.

For now, confined by my waning

and disabling physical condition,

I am set free emotionally to roam

again openly, and gleefully sift

through the Wondrous Treasure

Trove of My Lifetime Creation.

            -30-

Chris Hanch 9-20-2021

A Lifetime Philosophy

 

A year or so ago I wrote a piece about

some of those by whom I was inspired

in my life. I never thought or said that

I wished to be just like them.

The folks I mentioned (and so many

others I have known who shall remain

nameless) taught me to be myself and

strive to become the best I could be.

I have also made many a mistake along

the way, some of those due to selfish

desires; some were manifest by pre-

disposed genetic conditioning which

needed to be recognized and addressed

physiologically and psychologically.

Like every other human being, I am

naturally gifted and also infused

with my own individual idiosyncrasies.

Life can sometimes be a complex

and discordant cacophony. There

are choices to be made. I’ve learned

to be respectful of others who are

likewise doing the same along the

way.

I can honestly say, in the end I got

that which I so richly deserved.

Rhetorically speaking, isn’t that

the way it was meant to be.

Next time, I may try the ribeye

(medium rare, please), but for

now, the meatloaf will do.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-17-2021

Life and Time

 

You are now in a place

where unrecorded history

has faded away, a history

which made you who you

are today. You simmer in this

misty moment of time, sans

names and places, considering

only what you have become.

You look down at your trembling

hands and decide to trim your

brittle nails. And for today

in passing, something old

and unremarkably forgettable

within you continues to grow.

           -30-

Chris Hanch 9-14-21

Men Who Grow Old

 

An old man sitting on the stoop of his front porch.

I pass wondering what he is thinking. I said hello

and did not ask.

He looked up and simply nodded back at me, a

young man then. It took many years in passing.

That was a long time ago.

I have since come to that place, old and alone

and sitting on a stoop of my own. Men who grow

old are all pretty much the same. At last, I know.

                        -30-

Chris Hanch 9-10-21

The Bahamian Boys

Three preteen boys,

black Bahamian boys

at the Port of Nassau

approached me as I

exited the cruise ship

on a warm and sunny

Caribbean day, politely

asking for a handout

from me, a newly

arrived tourist to their

shores. I am sure

doing what they do

at the docking of

cruise ships every day.

It is what they have

been assigned to do.

What better way to

earn their pay in a

country where tourism

is a cash cow passing

through their largely

impoverished yet

beautiful island

country day after

day. And gladly

I gave them a fiver

to split between

themselves.

But there was a

stipulation I made,

their picture I wanted

to take in exchange.

And they were more

than pleased to accom-

odate. And thirty-five

years later that delightful

photo I hold in my hand

turns out to be one of the 

best lifetime investments

I could have made—

the veautiful vision

of three Bahamian

boys forever.

          -30-

Chris Hanch 9-9-2021 

Do It Yourself

 

A poem, it may rhyme sometimes.

Life, as I age, makes more sense to me.

The beast has been released.

Bees still pollinate

an act flowers appreciate.

God is good; God is great they say.

He or She, whomever your God may be

does not cater to you or me.

A prayer is a belief that God is omniscient

and almighty everywhere.

Today is another day I shall fritter away.

The Cosmos believes in creation and

causes catastrophic mayhem simultaneously.

So then, my friends, what is this all about?

I like meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

At this time in my life, that is what

I have come to know.

Pass the salt and pepper, please.

If you want a good poem?

Go write your own.

-30-

Chris Hanch 9-6-2021

Packed His Things

 

He packed his things

and left one day.

Got tired of living

his life that way.

Same old thing every day.

Had to make a change.

He knew some would say

that was no way to behave.

He could have told

someone why he felt

he needed to escape.

Can’t run away

from yourself some

were bound to say.

Wherever you go

there you are.

No one else to blame.

He did what he was

going to do anyway.

As for a reason,

no one else could say.

He packed his things

and left one day.

No rhyme or reason,

they figured.

Sometimes shit

happens that way.

         -30-

Chris Hanch 9-5-2021

Glorious Ways

Oh glorious ways,

I paid the rent today.

So to speak,

I am beyond my peak,

and to many that should

come as no surprise.

I can still find it within

me to wiggle my toes,

and see life passing

in the bat of an eye.

Praise be my luck

and good fortune,

I am still alive.

The buck didn’t stop

with me here, my friends.

On it’s winding way,

it managed to hover

overhead a bit,

then pass me by.

           -30-

Chris Hanch 9-1-2001