Choices to be Made

 

He stands by the window

with a view on the world,

his world as he has known

it, his world of imagining,

mostly not his world at all,

out of his control for the

most part, free wheeling,

in reality upside down,

inside and out, turned

around. It took him miles

and miles for him to get

here, and for what? A chance

at yet another day, a different

way, perhaps more of the

same. Most days he accepts

the give and take of what he

gets, no more, no less.

Where was the beginning,

when and where comes

the end? Cynically, he

chuckles at his fate.

The dawning of a new

age. Which mask shall

he don today? Which

roll should he choose

to play, king or a god,

jester or fool for a day?

Me, he thought looking

out the window, today

which me shall I be?

                -30-

Chris Hanch 6-28-2023

Legacy

 

I shall pass

away one day

leaving behind

images of place

and time.

Partake freely

in this legacy

of mine,

set aside

or cavalierly

toss away.

Betond wishes,

nothing but death

lasts forever.

          -30-

Chris Hanch 6-37-2023

Me and My Work in Review

 

In perusing and reviewing my

illustrated, painted, sculpted,

written and photographic work

one may wonder, what in hell

was he thinking? In style, media

and subject matter, he was all over

the place. And my reply to both

the wise and untrained eye can

be defined by me plain and simple

as can be: Depending on how you

choose to look at it, gifted or cursed

with ADD, yes indeed he was. Any

other compartmentalization is

overrated.

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 6-26-2023

kingdom come

at my age

the day will come

inevitably

that day shall be

sooner than later

for me

rainy day

sunny day

partly cloudy

moon lit night

or otherwise

that fateful day

is nigh.

and should I

be aware

and be prepared

to die

rather than

slip away

in the sudden

should I

know

no more excuses

shall abide

at my last

no minutes

nor hours

left to pass

should I have

one ounce

left to say

my time

is done

and the

eternal darkness

has come

goodbye

sweet life

goodbye

gone the worry

gone the strife

nothing I could

have or

should have

is yet to come

and should

my passing

rather be

suddenly

remember me

i did all I could

as i lived

as i died

farewell

goodbye

my dears

my time

has come

the tide

rolls out

kingdom come

i’m done

                -30-

Chris Hanch 6-25-2023

 

what to claim in the gallery of my remains

A white buffalo never seen

artwork consumed by time

words retired unused

fatherhood abused

a clock frozen at noon

penance prescribed for venial sins

blasphemed ducks on a frozen pond

what to claim in the gallery of my remains

motherhood never cured

love and onions left unpeeled

misguided childhood revealed

rusted daggers of revenge

friends hung out to dry

prayers left untried

what to claim in the gallery of my remains

dolphins late for school

pinholes in summer skies

a brotherhood of bald face lies

Einstein theories overruled

flat tires left roadside

over and again one day at a time

what to claim in the gallery of my remains

a gratuity of mistrust

ashes to ashes in the wind

a home run in the bottom of the ninth

a horse with no name

more than you or anyone will ever know

a springtime view from a cracked window

elephant tracks across the bathroom floor

red beets hung upside down

three fingers held up at a rally

an octopus with missing teeth

what to claim in the gallery of my remains

excuses and lies left untried

god-empty promises to mankind

a fishing reel with no line

time wasted without shame

slurped up beer at a super bowl game

your picture and mine in black and white

framed in the dead of night

all of which shall evaporate at sunrise

without worry or fanfare

forgotten the day after tomorrow

sleep tight

                              -30-

Chris Hanch 6-23-2023

 

Sometimes Simple Things

 

It’s those simple things we do every day

which keep us going, things not worth

mentioning, but are necessary, things we

take for granted, those which allow us as

humans to survive even thrive.

I won’t bore you with the example, my

friends, the ordinary for which has become

routine is of no interest for you and me.

Sometimes the same-old, same-old

can become the topic of interest to

others who can relate.

Embellishing the ordinary into the

unusual may become an interesting

story worth telling—i.e. I stepped

into a pile of dog poop on my walk

today.

I then accosted the first person I saw

walking their dog. “Hey, buddy,” I

yelled at him. He turned around and

to my surprise, it was Tom Hanks,

the actor. I asked him if he was? “Yes,”

he replied.

Forgetting the dog poop on my shoe,

instead I said, “I really enjoyed you

in Forrest Gump.” He nodded, smiled

and went on.

Conciliatory, I was then willing to

accept that I had just met Tom Hanks.

And not so out of the ordinary I

understood, shit really does some-

times happen.

(Of course I just made up this ordinary

story with an extraordinary twist to

prove my point.)

                        -30-

Chris Hanch 6-20-2023

Where Indeed?

Beyond a constant droning of the

air conditioner whirring its coolness

over the heat.

Beyond the cyclic spin of the

washing machine to sanitize and clean.

Beyond a blathering account of the

horrific news on morning TV.

Beyond the stomping stampede of

noisy neighbors in the apartment above.

Beyond the reach of calmness and

quieting serenity, despite all these

where indeed on the face of this hustle

bustle Earth would we be without the

malicious malady of obnoxious noise

to overcome?

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 6-19-2023 

My Anthropology

Got to imagining again.

Wonder what it would have

been like had I been fitted

with a personal tracking

device at birth?

In their entirety, many of

our lives could be considered

complex and dizzying affairs.

All the places traveled, all the

people engaged, the millions

upon millions of educational

footprints laid. And for god’s

sake, consider all the jobs un-

dertaken, all those wonders

ingested and painful mistakes

made.

For future generations, each

and every one of us would be

an anthropological wonder.

Consider our spears and swords,

all our elemental pots and pans

uncovered, given the revelations

of places lived and visited in a

comprehensive life’s histories

revealed.

With the advent of implanted

personal lifetime tracking

devices, lord knows, the old

traditional ways of personal

record keeping (writing, pho-

tography and audio tracks)

will have become obsolete

ways of accounting.

Give the command, date

and time, and your past life

will replay in real time.

One never knows what the

future holds. For now, and

given the current methods

and technologies, what you

see here in writing from me

will have to do. Suffice it

to say, in my lifetime, I

have traveled to and lived

in many places. And to the

glory and dismay of it all,

I have become acquainted

with a wide variety of man-

kind cultures and individual

personalities. And for what

it’s worth, my takeaway

formed me into the person

I have come to be today.

One would have to be ex-

tremely patient digging

through mounds and

mounds of material to

get to the bottom of it all.

Looking back on it, an

implanted personal tracking

device would have been my

first choice. Give a verbal or

mental command, “Record”

and voila! There you have it.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 6-18-2023 

 

What It Takes

What does it take to make or shape the scene?

You and I, the lost or found critical puzzle pieces

intentionally or randomly gone missing or slid

properly into place.

                               -30-

Chris Hanch 6-17-2023

Facebook Friends

 

So many so-called friends.

There is the man who plays the piano

and performs live weekly.

There is the punster who posts his

humorous innuendos.

There is the retired teacher who loves

to line dancer, an artist woman who

does caricatures, another who mainly

molds in clay.

There is the couple from India, and the

retired, jovial, TV personality.

There is the poet and photographer

from England, and the transcendental

Goddess of Love.

There is a mini-world of color, race,

cultures and sexual persuasion.

There is the woman who has lost two

of her children, the proud Jewish woman

who loves her jazz and blues.

There is the author of crime and criminals

books, and his sister who is an attorney.

There are several ladies who are

originally from Germany.

And there is a man who still lives there.

There is an old Army buddy of mine

who reminisces about old times.

There are my grown daughter,

a grandson and son.

The religious race car driver is there,

a few who like my posted poetry, my

writing and photography.

There are some of my co-workers from

times gone by, folks from various walks

of life.

There is the proud gay artist and poet

from Denver, several cat and dog ladies

who love their pets, a grand daughter

and son-in-law of mine, friends I have

not heard from in quite some time.

There are two still listed of whom I

know are deceased way before their

time (RIP).

The is a niece and a nephew, daughter and

son of my deceased brother.

(My how things have changes over time.)

There is the Hispanic lady and her family,

and a hundred or so others I have failed to

mention.

There are relations of my deceased wife

and so many more, friends from my

many previous lives.

I am there most days as I age and my time

rapidly ticks away.

Some will pass before me and some shall

pass after.

And likely I will be unfriended by

some, and it really won’t matter.

For those of you who have stopped to read

this, who are not specifically or generally

implicated here, forgive me. I ran out of

Facebook time and space today.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 6-16-2023

One Off

Got to thinking today

(as a reformed adult, not

an unusual activity for me).

Comparing the universal

scope of things, the size

of Earth versus the sun,

the mass of one atom

pitted against Mt. Everest,

a sneeze buried in a

hurricane, the concept

of a god as relates to the

scope and might of the

cosmos, you know, side

by side relationships

which the human mind

conjures up occasionally

when allowed free-time

to wander aimlessly.

Ever consider

the trillions upon trillions

of stars out there in the

literal universal ether

not one of which has the

instinctive or intuitive

power of an ant.

Then place you and I into

the equation. We could

shoot a billion bullets or

atom bombs into the sun

and it would virtually

have no discernible effect.

And the plausibility is,

it could take one well

placed pin prick to do

us in.

The question then arises,

mind over matter or matter

over mind, an inquisition

we humans are faced with

every single day?

Is it a curse or a blessing

being you and I every single

days of our lives? In our

minds, believer in a higher

power or not, here we are

with that which neither star

nor atom, regardless of size

or scale possesses.

Ah, the human psyche and

ego, all those choices to be

made. Good or evil?

We are everything and yet

nothing all at once. A caution-

ary thought, my friend: Be

afraid, be very afraid, or

should you as one of a kind

in body and mind choose

otherwise.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 6-15-2023