The Muses and Me

 

Oh joy! What is in store for today?

Some will have made plans. Others

such as I rely upon routine, the same

today hopefully as yesterday.

You understand, coffee to kick-start

my desirable monotony, some prefer-

red music, a bit of reading and then

hopefully writing poetry to follow.

Boring, you may say, but being disabled

physically, I find it necessary to limit my

activity. I find it painful negotiating the

few steps I take these days. Exercise for

me is reduced to picking my nose and

scratching my rear.

Fortunately, I still have flourishes

of mental creativity. The Muses are

a resilient and persistent lot still

embracing me. Just when I think

this is it, I can no longer endure the

pain and lack of mobility, I turn my

head to the left and the right and

Sandia Mountain in Albuquerque

enlightens my cognitive sight.

Amazing the glorious sunset I can

see given it’s morning and I’m

physically living in Kansas City.

That happens to be my inspiration

for today.

Even had they been able, my legs

could not have taken me there so

effortlessly. Can’t wait for tomorrow

to see what the muses are cooking

up for me.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 8-17-2020

Dependence

 

It’s like the lobster in a pot of water

which comes slowly to a boil. It has

no idea what is happening until it’s

to late.

The patient is prescribed medication

to help alleviate their pain. Opioids

are known to become addictive after

usage for several days.

There have been swift and giant

leaps in technological advancements

in recent years.

We have become acustomed and

attached to speed-of-light commun-

ications, computer programs and

artificial intelligence which boggle

the mind.

Smart phones connect us immediately

with many places on Earth. They give

us instantaneous access to information

which entire libraries used to do.

As a society and individually we have

become accustomed to the rapid boil of

technology, certainly addicted to having

our wants and needs serviced immediately.

The captains of industry and marketers of

technology have sold us into a futile mer-

chandising realm of dependency.

We have become the unwitting lab rats of

comercial conditioning.

Ask a Millennial if they could imagine

leaving their smart phone and electronic

devices at home, and waiting several hours

to retrieve their messages upon returning

home for the day?

How about finding a pay phone when out

and about during the day? What about

picking up a newspaper or locating a book

to get needed information?

No sir, no ma’am, no need to fret, no

need for dismay. Help is at your keyboard

finger tips or voice activated request every

moment of every day. Any need which

arises to be satisfied immediately, there’s

an app for that.

And wait and see what happens when

systems go down and there’s is a black-

out all around. Will you have the inclina-

tion or wherewithal to look a stranger

directly in the eye and ask them for the

time of day.

By then, it may be too late. Likelihood is

you’re already over your head in hot water.

There was a world in motion before Steve

Jobs, Steve Wozniak and Bill Gates, you know.

                     -30-

Chris Hanch 8-16-2020

Lack of Communication

 

The other night my cell phone

shot craps about 6 PM. I was

trying to call my son as I do

routinely to close out my day.

Not able to connect to the net-

work the screen told me.

I had no landline as a backup

so I was helplessly vulnerable

in the event of an emergency,

you know, a maintenance issue

in the apartment, water leak,

air conditioner failure, fire,

rats, rattle snakes, man-eating

tigers and the like.

What if I fell and couldn’t get

up? Which given my disability

was a possibility. Anyway, I

managed to message my son

on Facebook, and eventually

got hold of him.

I Relayed my problem, but he

was unable to come over. Can

it wait until tomorrow, he asked?

I suppose I’ll have to manage

until then, I told him. Good night.

And I kept thinking about all the

bad things which could befall me

before the next day, What if…?

And then there’s always...What

in hell...So around 10 PM, I went

to bed, comforted in knowing at

least it was very seldom if ever

that anyone would try to reach

me at that late an hour.

And chances are if they had

need of contacting me, it would

likely be with news which I did

not care to hear. I was already

upset with my own damned fears.

Friggin’ cell phones anyway. I was

rendered speechless with something

of importance left to say.

                -30-

Chris Hanch 814-2020

What Matters

 

Today, the sun rises as Earth turns; clocks

keep time flawlessly without praise or pay.

Today, the light switch and water faucet work,

and coffee does its job.

Today, birds sing from branches, and each tree

is rooted firmly in place.

Today, the heart beats, and vital organs without

question work as they should.

Today, without hesitation one foot is laid down

after another leading to the intended destination.

Today, the trafic flows as it does every day,

and the store opens on time without delay.

Without a thought, worms wiggle beneath the

surface, fish school unseen beneath the waves.

Today, everything seems in order; everything

is what it is and is doing as it should.

Today, even my pain behaves pretty much the

same.

Today, as long as it’s working as it should, one tends

to ignore that to which they have become accustom.

When I was a drinking man (just to be on the safe

side), I used to tell the barkeep, I’ll have my usual.

When something was no longer working for me as

I expected it should, that’s when it really mattered.

You don’t change the light bulb when it’s still working.

You can do nothing about the damn traffic flow or the

fish schooling in the sea.

Today is the same, a beginning all over again.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 8-13-2020

Life on Earth

 

Should aliens appear one day they may ask of us

what’s it like, life on this Planet Earth

And should their interrogatory be aimed at me

I may reply

It’s like the mountains and the sea

it’s like the forests and jungles

like the deserts and the plains

it’s like clouds and deep blue skies

like blazing sunsets and golden sunrise

It’s like creatures large and small

like floral gardens and blooming glades in spring

like thunder and lightning it’s like rain snow hail and sleet

it’s like city town and country

like a van Gogh Starry Night

like a Tolstoy War and Peace

it’s like Dorothy’s OZ or Alice’s Wonderland

like Copland’s Our Town and Appalachian Spring

It’s like Eiffel's Tower and the Statue of Liberty

it’s like Nebraska corn huskers and the Kansas City Chiefs

like Arizona’s Grand Canyon and Nepal’s Mt. Everest

like Africa’s Serengeti and the Steppes of Russia

like the running of the bulls in Pomploma

like Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony

like a 50 Cent and Nicki Minaj Rap Song

like Muddy Waters Blues and the Beetles Rock and Roll

like Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue

like a Langston Hughes poem Let America be America Again

like MacDonald’s Domino’s and KFC

like Monopoly, GI Joe Barbie and frozen custard

It’s like IBM GM AT&T AARP NAACP NRA and FDIC

It’s like a petri dish of proliferating and decaying humanity

tweeting friending and unfriending on Facebook

like Walmarts filled with smart phones oil cans and jelly jars

like Amazon the river the jungle and the online Mega Merchandiser

Oh I almost forgot it’s like hurricanes tornadoes volcanoes

wild fires tsunamis terrorists and mass murders

It’s like drunks addicts and homeless on the street

like refugees in camps and immigrants detained and

caged at the border

like plagues famine depressions and pandemics spread worldwide

people starving hospitalized and dying en masse

it’s like the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer

it’s like greed power and corruption run rampant

like Genghis Khan

Attila the Hun

Hitler

Stalin

Saddam Hussein

Putin

and Trump

I could go on and on but we’re running short on time

Life on the planet is like smoggy city air and treading on thin ice

like putrefied water and out of whack thermostat rising

it’s like glaciers and ice shelves rapidly melting away

it’s like good people who care and those who couldn’t give a damn

It’s like one huge run-on sentence without any punctuation

Come back in a century or so and we’ll see what gives then

For certain, life on Earth is like up for grabs and like your

guess is as good as mine

What’s it like on the planet from where you come

                            -30-

Chris Hanch 8-10-2020

The Last Straw

 

How many times in life have you been

told, “That’s it, that’s the last straw?”

How many straws have to be drawn

and placed, adding enough weight to

break the camels back?

The metaphor suggests we have piled

on one straw after another until even-

tually the burden becomes too great

for a creature to bear.

Now, camels are pack animals and have

been widely known to carry a substantial

load. What on Earth is one more friggin’

straw going to do anyway?

“The last straw” when chosen and used

improperly means that’s it, you’re done

for. That poor old contrary camel can

effectively carry no more weight.

And then you’ve got the proverbial last

straw which has broken the camel’s back.

When we were kids, my dad would often

tell my brothers and me, “That’s the last

straw.” And that meant, pull your pants

down and prepare for a good whooping.

Dad was lying to us, though. The hay stack

was piled high, and there were many more

straws yet to come. At least enough to

cover all the trouble we could ever manage

to cause.

It then became a guessing game for us. The

haystack was large. Would the needle we

were told to search for come before the

subjective last straw was drawn?

Turns out our road to adulthood was littered

with many broken back camels. My brothers

and I were inflicted with many sore asses to

substantiate that.

Is it any wonder I grew up thinking camels

were dumb and stupid animals anyway?

And those Bedouins must have been pretty

smart people to understand when enough

was enough.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 8-10-2020

Clamor at 3 AM

 

3 AM, I open one eye to check the clock on the

nightstand next to my bed.

I was awoken by a dog barking in a nearby apartment,

a big dog I can tell by the depth of sound.

The animal was either left alone or the owner has

passed out or passed away.

I am hoping the later, for a drunk has no business

neglecting an animal in need.

3:30 AM, and still the deep persistent clamor of

a pet abandoned or ignored.

Due to my disability, I am unable to go over and

knock on the neighbor’s door.

Anyway, I’m not for sure whether the noise is coming

from the apartment above or to the side.

My small dog is upset as well and begins whining.

3:45, I arise and take my dog into the living room and

turn on the TV to distract from the noise.

It does help some, but then I must deal with the

aggravation of early morning TV programming.

A dog food commercial appears on the screen, and

my pup who is vehemently opposed to seeing other

dogs on TV starts to bark with a high-pitched ferocity.

I hit the remote changing the channel.

Damn, a Little House on the Prairie re-run.

I never could stand that show.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 8-9-2020