A Tale of Two Towns

 

Two towns

out in the middle of

nowhere Missouri,

at the edge of

the Ozarks,

Waynesville and

St. Robert.

Two towns

in close proximity

to the Army base

Ft. Leonard Wood,

Missouri where

I was sent

for Basic and

Advanced Training

in 1964.

Two towns,

the drill sergeants

warned, were rife

with alcohol,

drugs, gambling

and prostitution.

Two towns,

GIs beware,

syphilis, and

gonorrhea,

robbery, murder

and mayhem are

pervasive and

await you there.

I was seventeen

and lacked experience

in such lurid affairs.

Two towns,

some of those

who were tired

of their confined

and restricted activities

in the military

when allowed to

escape on pass,

chose the Devil

over the Divine.

Two towns,

Waynesville

and St. Roberts,

and my recollection

of the biblical

story of Sodom and

Gomorrah saved me

from having to look

back and turning

into a pillar of salt.

A Tale of Two Towns,

I wondered how many

lonely and mislead

soldiers returned

to base off of pass

irreparably salinated

and forever changed?

               -30-

Chris Hanch 8-31-2023

This Day

 

One more day

one more of

tens of thousands

made

and what of consequence

have I to say

another much the same

as the one before

I adore you

sun-made day

from

93-million miles away

your bright

golden light

has lead the way

This day

             -30-

Chris Hanch 8-29-2023

you and i

 

hear me out

let me in

life is like

that sometimes

where to begin

what I have

to say

to you

is from

an outsider

looking in

i would be me

should you

recognize

what I have

to say

at any given

time or day

i’m over here

you happen to be

over there

with some distance

in between

come closer

let’s get started

a new beginning

all over again

            -30-

Chris Hanch 8-28-2023

The Everlasting

Sun , moon and stars

carry me afar,

light years away,

into new beginnings

each and every day.

Earth grounds me

as a reminder of who

we are.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 8-27-2023

 

Wanted Dead or Alive

 

Should there come a time

(and it is inevitable that

time will tell) should you

not hear from me for quite

awhile, I shall either be

dead or otherwise occupied.

Death is the ultimate reason

for silence; “otherwise”

could factor in a host of

excuses for lack of contact

or no reply.

Death of course means one

no longer could care less;

otherwise occupied, well,

that may be none of your

business.

Now, don’t take offense,

I mean no disrespect.

There are just some reasons

of a personal nature which

I don’t wish to discuss.

Everyone has their own

wishes regarding those.

Be that as it may, having

not heard from you in

awhile, I wonder if you

yourself should be dead

or alive, or just gone

missing or silent for

awhile?

I suppose time will tell.

One of these days for

certain in death neither

of us shall care. So for

now I’ll say, dead or

alive, either way, I’m

sorry just in case.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 8-26-2023

My Dog

My dog knows me,

knows each and

every note of my tunes,

the Rhythm and Blues

I play.

I know my dog

as well, know the music

she plays everyday—

In tune, we two,

a lovely duet, I’d say.

               -30-

Chris Hanch 8-25-2023

 

Through These Eyes

 

Through these eyes

of mine

and in my mind

over and over again

a Garden of Eden

the goodness

and strength

of gods

has been lost and found

               -30-

Chris Hanch 8-24-2023

Thoughts

How many thoughts to titillate the brain?

How many thoughts to reveal the way?

How many thoughts to inspire what to say?

It’s a process, you know, thoughts refined,

an idea, words, an opinion, feelings to

propagate, disseminate and relay.

A single thought, new beginnings, progress,

a set back or delay. Thoughtfulness and

carelessness, got us to where we are today.

                           -30-

Chris Hanch 8-23-2023

 

Wishes and Dreams

A cool and cloudy autumn day,

lined up with the team on the

40-yard line game of play,

watching football intently with

anticipation on TV.

The score—visiting team thirteen,

home team seven.

The center snaps the ball to the

quarterback who scrambles

out of the pocket to the left

and lets fly with a perfect

spiral, threading the needle of the

defense to reach the tight end

on the run in between.

On the 5-yard line, I make a

spectacular catch with hands

I imagine to be mine, with

driving legs envisioned as

mine, I lunge across the goal

line for a touchdown,

tying the game being

broadcast on live TV.

The fans are astonished at the

surety of hands, admire the

strength of legs which are in

reality not mine, but rather

those of another I am partici-

pating with vicariously on TV.

A cool and cloudy autumn day

as the stadium goes wild,

cheering in an uproarious frenzy

for the hometown team and me.

And I, knowing that never in

my wildest imaginings, not

even in my prime, was I ever

able to play the game like that.

But there are some days, an old

fart like me can only dream.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 8-22-23

 

The Shadow of Your Smile

 

Some of my renderings are meant

to be more odd than humorous.

However I do realize, depending

on your own personal emotional

view, “just plain funny” can be

a subjective thing.

Occasionally, I illustrate some

pathetically, funny things which

may cause a chuckle or two.

With wordless action, Charlie Chaplain

and Buster Keaton were talented that

way. Back in the Golden Days of

Silent Films, they became famous

with their soundless yet laughable,

idiotic “shtick.”

Nowadays, my cartoonish pen and ink

renderings in these raucous, decibel

filled times of tomfoolery can be a

silent treat which may tickle the

funny bone, curling up the ends

of your lips into a smile. This also

is a silent process indicative of at

least you too just may have become

cheerfully amused.

Without the utterance of the slightest

sound, even the deaf could read that

snickering smile upon your face.

Did you know, due to the lack of

air in outer space sound cannot

travel? Even so, Chaplain and

Keaton, perhaps even one or two

of my cartoons may prove to be

funny anyway.

                -30-

Chris Hanch 8-18-2023

Happ Days, Some Not

 

My happy times in life have been

times spent drawing,

times spent painting and sculpting,

times spent reading and writing,

traveling and taking photographs

of people and places,

times spent listening to music

and watching movies of my choosing,

times spent with family and friends

of my choosing,

times spent alone and relaxing

on rainy or snowy days,

times spent in scenically beautiful

and serene places,

times when the bills have been paid

and there was a good meal to be had.

Some will claim I have been self-serving

and could have striven to achieve more.

Some will say at times I smoked

and drank more than I should,

should have asked for help when needed,

should have been more considerate of others,

should have done what I was supposed to do,

like it or not be damned.

In matters such as these, each of us

still alive, willing and able have

their own personal accounting

to take.

In any case, I’d have to say,

Ah life, what a trip. Nice to have

known you, others not so much.

You know who you are.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 8-17-2023

Humanity

 

Hubble and Webb are up there

in space circumnavigating Earth,

our telescopic eyes exploring the

mysteries of the universe.

We, the designers and builders

of our own destinies, are left

gravitationally bound to contend

face-to-face with our own evolu-

tionary mankind comedies and

tragedies.

Light years away the far-flung

cataclysmic destruction and

amalgamation of re-creation

continue to inspire and intrigue.

We as Earthbound inhabitants are

embroiled in our own propagation

and elimination, the unwitting and

pretentious ingredients aswirl in

the far greater Cosmic Stew of

Inevitability.

Hubble and Webb have yet to

discover the god or the science

which shall come to save us

from ourselves.

                -30-

Chris Hanch 8-16-2023

Biology 101 for You and Me

 

Victor got to thinking about the basics of life,

and what biology demands of all species not

just the high and mighty human species, but

the likes of you and me. Seriously, he mused,

what is there beyond breathing, eating, pro-

creating and waste disposal?

Victor considered: Do you think the Planet

Earth or the cosmos care about fancy cars,

multi-million dollar mansions in which the

rich and famous live, the designer wardrobes

they wear, the prestigious and powerful pro-

fessions they clamor for or enjoy?

Victor surmised: In the reality of it all,

the whole biological scheme, this life

existential thing, science couldn’t give

a flying shit about who you think

you are or hope to be. Love and admir-

ation, personal aspirations, why even

an Almighty and a life everlasting are

all a human egotistical mindset ruse.

Victor chuckled at the reality: Truth

be known, a worm serves as much

or more biological purpose in nature

than you and I. Might as well surren-

der, dig a six foot hole for our bur-

rial at the end, and return to worm

food all over again and again.

Life’s cycle needs food for fodder

too, you know.

Victor liked to dabble in philosophy,

just another mankind grandiose

pretense to explain our otherwise

futile and useless existence, he

claimed. Why not, he figured?

After all, he had failed biology

in high school. And worms make

great bait when fishing.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 8-14-2023

 

Here I Stand

I have stopped and stood in places

where a hundred and fifty years ago

or so, wagon trains crossed America

on the Oregon Trail.

Many did not make it. For some,

due to the obstacles and perils

which faced them, the venture

was tantamount to pure suicide.

Yet, they kept on coming.

Fortunate am I to have been born

at a time where highways and

automobiles could carry me across

foreboding lands in relative safety.

Here I stand on high ground scanning

the vast Utah wasteland. Danger is

still out there—venomous scorpions

and snakes, scorching and dehydrating

high desert heat. Save my car and the

Interstate to protect me, there is

little or no relief to be found. No

cities and towns, only ancient mesas

and mounds, pocked land formation

dotted with sage brush, pinyon and

scrub pine. Stark desolation, 360

degrees as far as the eye can see.

Seems I could nearly touch the fluffy

cotton candy clouds floating by. The

pending threat of danger and death

can be a wondrously invigorating thing.

                             -30-

Chris Hanch 8-13-2023

Choices Choices

 

Got something to sell?

Got something to buy?

Got something to achieve?

It’s your choice, yes or no.

Give it another try.

Choices to make every day,

choices to rush into,

choices to consider and delay.

What shall it be, it’s up to you,

choices to be made?

Choices, what to know...

Given my advanced age, my

socio-ecconomic standing,

and other options, Polish

sausage over chicken for

dinner tonight is as far as

I’m willing to go.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 8-11-2023

One More Once Today

 

Sometimes it’s easy to ignore

how many days were lived

before. Could be a miracle,

one day after another waking

seemingly the same as yesterday.

Incrementally though, the

universe has changed as well.

You know, a revised sun, moon

and stars—near is nearer, far is

farther removed from the far

before.

So wherein lies the gauge of

change? Where indeed is the

measured difference from

yesterday to today? More

than a mere moment in time

and space, I’d say.

Sometimes one does not see

the subtle sleight of hand being

quicker than the eye. So then,

in life there must be magic

involved in the transition from

yesterday to today.

It is a wonderment, you know,

today is always today. And

amazingly, I am still here,

present and accounted for.

One more once, I expect.

Damn the pain, let’s get on

with it. Say, wasn’t there a

house on that property over

there yesterday? Going,

going then gone, I suppose.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 8-10-2023