THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

by

Gordon Kuhn

03/09/2010

Oh what a foolish man in mid-life crises I turned out to be

how embarrassing to the family I surely must have been

for God’s knows I know that thinking thoughts like mine were sin

Israel’s final judge of twelve flirted the rumors all said

and you, Delilah, for payment almost then in hand sought me out

while I in lust was weakened so

and thought only then with lower extremity

thus I found myself before my God

that I was soon to be

so captivated by

so seduced by

so enraptured by

thee

my beautiful, alluring Delilah, a witch on land and on the sea

a whore who for 30 lbs of silver became

for me, my barber and a force majeure

with gentle touch you acted poseur

a harlot learned well, no not any cheap amateur

who with fortune held close in hand

met first we did in town Timnath

you undressed me, caressed me, then led me to your bath

anointed me with scented oil

and mounting me you moaned, thrust and did toil

well versed to challenge such a weak mind as mine

I fell so easy, so very easily, easily I fell in line

a hungry man, empty, searching

who tragic had lost his love

a young bride taken murdered, burned, my lovely morning dove

by Philistines who then one-thousand met the jawbone of my ass

in judgment, for a judge I be, I burned their crops and killed in mass

they, in turn, put a lofty bounty on my head

how upsetting this was at first to me

to view the posters hung with horrible pictures for all to see

they didn’t look at all like me

my strength of will they knew not the source

the source of power with which I kept it fed

but they did all hold the knowing result in dread

and could not approach or challenge me

for fearfully knew that with a whack I’d leave them quite dead

leave them for the birds of carrion

who upon their rotting bodies would feed

but you my beautiful-horrible Delilah

I was so gentle led

peeled gapes by you were gentle fed

while you stroked and wound seven braids of hair

then with a knife you cut it there

and my strength fell cut by cut to the ground

then you called the guards who found me sleeping sound

who gouged out my eyes and left me blinded to grind their grain

but my hair began to grow while I suffered in constant pain

then foolishly chose they to lead me out in bold parade

tied to pillars I prayed for strength and Godly aide

repenting all to him which birthed my soul

to kill those who surrounded me and who laughed that day

then with a growl I forced the pillars to begin to sway

they say three thousand lives I took that day

ended there along with mine

beneath the stones carved wide and tall

that fell and crushed and killed us all.

Copywrite by Gordon Kuhn 3/9/2010

Gordon Kuhn
“The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government” Thomas Jefferson
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