Oh, for Joy!

 

It gives me great pleasure and a measure

of pain, through thick and through thin, a

modicum of grace and a smattering of sin

to say, I have made it a long, long way

from the beginning of who I was born into

to the 74^th year of who I am today—having

two grown children who grew into responsible

and respectable adults, who in turn produced

four adult grandchildren, all of whom for

which I am button-busting proud. Carry on,

my children—the world is a better place. What

more need I say? Oh, for joy! I hope and pray

for you and the world the same.

                                 -30-

Chris Hanch 5-4-2021

Virtual Vocal Reality

Ever since the Corona Virus Pandemic

his nurse at the VA has been conducting

phone interviews with him every two

months or so.

Home visits were not practical while the

spread of the disease was still a possibility.

The nurse began with his vital signs, tem-

perature, blood pressure, pulse rate and

the like.

Then she asked him to rate his pain level

from 1 to 10—10 being the most severe.

About 7 or 8, he answered. It varies de-

pending on the time of day, he explained.

It’s highest first thing in the morning and

then again later in the day. He figured

that the scale of rating pain numerically

was woefully inadequate.

Besides, people handle pain differently

was his thinking: Some could have their

arm lopped off, shrug their shoulders and

claim, oh really it isn’t all that bad; still

others would claim a splinter in the finger

hurt worse than hell.

There was nothing really to do about his

arthritic hip pain, except replacement or

pain medication. And he was going to have

none of that. No one was going to cut him

open. And having gone the pain killer route

before, he knew addiction was a far greater

problem.

When you needed to increase the medica-

tion to a point where it no longer worked,

and the doctor wouldn’t keep prescribing

more and more. Those withdrawals were

far worse that the original pain.

In affect, the home phone visits were

pretty much useless as well. Trying to

explain pain in words was basically

futile. And if he wasn’t left with other

remedies or procedures, what was the

use, anyway?

If the nurse was to see him in person,

the difficulty he had getting around

and the scowl of misery emblazoned

into his face, she could skip the 1 to

10 scale. They might even raise the

limit from 10 to 20 in his case, won-

dering how much more he could take?

Had it been anyone other than a medical

professional on the phone, his answer to

the question, how are you doing? would

likely be, Oh, I’m okay and getting by.

After all, in virtual vocal reality, it’s a

hell of a lot easier to lie over the phone.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 5-3-2021 

Come on, Say It!

 

Looking for words of wisdom

in what I have to say today?

There may be a nugget buried

somewhere in the rubble strewn

across my brain. Like you, I

am searching for something,

anything of worth. All which

glitters is not gold. The old

timers talk about pay dirt.

That’s what started the rush

in the first place. He said this,

she said that, and that’s how

we all got here where we are

today. You thinking it was

me when actually it was you

all along with something of

value to say. Come on, spit

it out. Let’s hear it! I’m game.

           -30-

Chris Hanch 5-2-2021

A Mother's Wishing

 

I often wonder what my mother thought

about me, and if she had any ideas or wishes

for who and what I might grow up to be?

She has long since departed this life, and may

have been be amazed. An artist and writer?

Well perhaps, but not one of fortune and fame.

Nothing against you personally, she might say,

but in my experience I have never known one

of those who had it made financially.

And chances are, perhaps you’ll turn out to be

a salesman like your father, a waiter at a restaurant

or a stock clerk at a grocery store.

Bet Mom never expected that I'd be writing a poem

someday about what her dreams for me may have

entertained.

A good boy generally, she might say, but a poor

performer insofar as his academics in school goes.

Not voted in class as “the most likely to succeed.”

Great Expectations makes a good title for a movie,

she might have said, but not likely an aspiration in

a lifetime for the likes of you and me.

I can see into her wistful eyes looking down on

me, as she hopes for the best. Now go and wash

your hands, she would likely say…

It’s almost time for dinner.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 5-1-19 (Revised 5-1-2021)

Enigma of Your Imagining

 

You don’t know me. I live either in the apartment

next door or the one a floor below. I would introduce

myself formally face-to-face, but due to a physical

infirmity, I have not been out of my place for well

over a year.

Your apartment has been rented and vacated several

times since I moved in about 3-years ago. So, not

getting to know you is practically speaking, okay.

Since you too will likely not be living in your apartment

for too long, I thought you might like to know, I have a

mental picture of who you might be. How is that, you

may ask? My sensory perception is triggered and inhan-

ced by vibrations and sound. Loud voices overheard,

the pace and pressure of footprints across the floor,

the sudden dropping of heavy objects, the regular

bouncing of a ball or annoying hammering of nails

into the walls conjure up vivid images for me.

I suspect, due to the rent structure here, your wall

hangings are not original works of art, but rather

a tacky collection of cheaply framed prints from

Walmart or Costco.

And given all that, my mental assessment of your

physical and psychological makeup is that you are

overweight, self-centered, an inconsiderate narcis-

sist who enjoys pictorial generic scenes of places

you only dream of visiting one day. And your pre-

ference in music sucks, is obnoxiously loud and in

poor taste.

It is my wish that your occupancy here will only

last a few months, and your curiosity of the enig-

matic tenant who lives next door or below remains

a deep dark mystery to you throughout your tenure

here.

And that my silent, reclusive and undefined nature

may suspiciously indicate a cynical and diabolical

ax murderer is quietly plotting his next execution.

Due to my physical inability to reveal myself in the

flesh and personally lodge my complaints, I trust

you realize that I have lots of time on my hands to

silently plot and creatively ruminate.

When it comes time to renew your lease, I strongly

suggest that you may want to reconsider. Without

actually seeing me physically, you can never fully

realize how perfectly harmless I really am. However,

I do dabble quite a bit in creative writing.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 4-30-2021

All in the Game

 

I finally got it figured out.

After 74-years it suddenly

became crystal clear to me—

I was never meant to be rich

or poor in life, but for the most

part was relegated to somewhere

in the middle.

You know, like a buoy bobbing

in the ocean, pie in the sky above

me, denizens of the deep below.

Would have it mattered anyway

at an early age had I known?

Possibly. I may have made

adjustments, either pressing down

harder or easing up on the gas.

I may have soared or could have

gone down, you know. Suffice it

to say, it was all a game of

horseshoes and hand grenades

which count for something when

you come close.

I’ve always wanted to use that tried

and true analogy in a poem. And to

date, I am proud to report, at least

I was able to achieve that.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 4-29-2021

Missed Opportuniy

 

Years ago (forty years or so) had smart phones

been invented then, I certainly would have taken

more pictures. As it was, I had to consciously

carry my camera around with me intending to

take pictures on any given day.

Back in the day, I needed to ensure that I had a

roll of film or two and the proper lenses with me

to cover the subject matter which I intended to

portray that day. Traveling and while on vacation,

it was a must.

I had to be prepared to take pictures of people

and places which were not familiar or common

to me on a daily basis. I managed to do that

successfully most of the time, and today I have

the fruits of may labor to show for it.

But had I a built-in camera on a smart phone

which I would have carried with me constantly,

I would have surely taken many more photos,

capturing images which were in front of me on

a daily basis (no film or prior planning necessary).

But alas, way back then that was not a possibility.

Oh well, what’s done is done. I did what I could with

that which was available to me before the age of

digital photography.

Most of my life shall remain unrecorded history,

missed opportunities. A shame, I may have captured

a precious shot of you on a bad hair day. Not to be

awarded a prize winner photo-journalistically, but

one which may have likely afforded viewers today

a chuckle or two. And you embarrassed, claiming,

that the shot is crudely bogus, and doesn’t even look

like you.

Damn, I should have had my camera with me

that day.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 4-28-2021