Conundrum

 

Ah, the audacity of life

going beyond its physical

and mental means. The

capability and agility

which are not functional

anymore, but nonetheless

continue to be.

Survivability, the stubborn,

tenacious brain sometimes

doesn’t appear to exercise

common sensibility.

There is a conundrum at play

here, folks, can’t you see?

The engine can no longer

drive the worn out, non-

operational machinery...

Dah!

Death makes perfect sense;

some aspects of life remain

a mystery to me.

                    -30-

Chris Hanch 10-1-2022

Doing What Comes Naturally

 

Years ago it was not foreseen

that I would use the symbolic

term “pen and ink” instead of

“computer” to describe the

form of my writing nowadays.

Call me old fashion or romantic

that way. I’d rather be associated

with those writers of old who sat

in a dimly lighted room at night

pounding their typewriter keys,

or under a tree in the summer

breeze scribbling their thoughts

longhand into a notebook.

Computers seem too high-tech

and uncreatively easy when it

comes to writing prose and poetry.

Shakespeare may have felt the

same had he given up his quill

and ink well for a felt-tip or

ballpoint pen.

Now, I appreciate aspects of

modern technology today, but

there is something nostalgically

missing as the old man reads the

sports page of a newspaper at the

kitchen table over morning coffee.

Or seeing a young woman lying

prone on a mattress while diligently

journaling longhand entrees into

her diary.

There’s something grossly impersonal

about nearly everyone in society today

pressing the keys of their smartphone

or vocally conversing with the Alexa

A-I which leaves me frostbite cold.

There is something lost in the immediacy

of light-speed convenience. Something

is impersonal and unfeeling about virtual

reality. But that’s just old fashion me

who grew up to be 75-years tradition-

ally.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally

against technology. But respectfully

and with a measure of orthodoxy,

could you please put your smart

phone down and see eye-to-eye

when speaking with me?

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 9-29-2022

A Matter of Life and Death

 

Life can be beautiful in all its iterations,

and death as well. There are more reasons

to die than there are to live. The laws of

the cosmos shows us the truth of that.

Life ends and life begins again. There is

no escape from that—the tree and the bee,

the likes of you and me. Do and say what

you will, as the human species we were

given the gift of discovery—I am, I must, I can.

We speak not only for ourselves, but for

every Other which ever was. Paint a picture,

say it with an equation, put it into poetic verse,

make beautiful music alone, come together,

before it’s too late—life, death, rebirth,

creation, you and I, for all it’s worth.

                              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-26-2022

Another Day

 

Another day, more or less.

What shall it be for me?

I’m not at war, couldn’t

care less about gains and

losses on Wall Street or

diabolical plans some

politician has up their

sleeve. I say let the

magician pull a rabbit

from his hat. (I've seen

that trick done

a thousand times before.)

Don’t argue with the police.

If you know what’s

good for you, mind your

own business and keep

your big trap shut.

Take a lesson from the

drill sergeant you had in

the Army more than fifty

years ago—fall out and

smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.

The world will never rid

itself from wise guys and

smart asses.

These days in my old age

I’m limited to certain things

I can and cannot do.

As Roger Miller said in

his 1960s hit song...”I’m a

man of means by no means,

King of the Road.” It took

me a lifetime to realize what

he was singing about.

Another day for me, one

more or less. Smokin’

‘em cuz I got ‘em. Doin’

and not doin’ as I’m able

and as I damn well please.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-24-2022

Nameless

 

She was born, lived her life

given her time and place.

All her friends and relations

have long since passed away.

She never bore children,

never recorded any legacy

or laid a single claim.

She was a good person

who never made an egregious

mistake, never for any reason

worth noting had she graced

the walls of any Hall of Fame.

A good woman was she

having done her duty without

fortune or fame. She was not

a stunner in looks, never stood

above the fray, presented

herself of average stature,

height and weight.

Think about it. For one brief

moment in all time consider

this, how many stars in the

heavens have lost their light

having passed alongside

countless numbers throughout

eternity without a ranking,

without being recognized

by name? Was she ever or

was she not?

In her life and with her passing,

no one could or would ever say.

What a pity, such a lovely

person who remains nameless

to this day. What a shame.

And to this day we give praise

and honor to the unknown

soldier who it is proposed

fought their way to defend

our county’s good name.

And it could have been she

is among the missing

who died one for all and

all for one anonymously.

               -30-

Chris Hanch 9-22-2022

How To

 

As a youth, I was inspired to draw

by Jon Nagy’s, Learn to Draw, on

1950s TV, and by the illustrations of

Bill Mauldin’s, Up Front, a WWII

book my father, a veteran, gave to

me.

As a youth, I was captivated by

Mark Twain’s Adventures of Tom

Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn and

other stories my dad read to my

brothers and me at bedtime.

As a youth, I was impressed by

the visual intensity of black and

white imagery, the people photog-

raphy of Matthew Brady.

As a youth (and as an adult these-

days), people will look at me in

wonder and say, “Where did you

learn to draw?” admitting that they

can’t draw a straight line with a

ruler. I am quick to acknowledge

that to this day I use a ruler to draw

my straight lines. Using that con-

venient tool was a natural for me.

As for all the rest, it has been acquired

with an innate passion for the arts, and

dedicated practice over time.

                         

-30-

Chris Hanch 9-21-2022

Yesterday, Sunday

 

Yesterday, Sunday, off and on all day

thinking of friends and relations who

came before me and have passed away.

Sunday, an appropriate day for memories

such as these, especially for me not the

religious sort, a non-believer in a hereafter

of heaven and hell.

As a child I was raised otherwise, made

to recognize Sunday as a day of prayer,

praise and reconciliation.

One day inevitably, I too shall pass away

sans thought, sans feeling, sans memory.

But for today, Sunday, I give my thoughtful

prayers and praise to those, who at least

for now, live within the Memorial Eternity

of the Living Me.

                              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-19-2022