Standoff Post 8.26.19

My birthday was 8.23 and I got off track. Here are two more poems from Standoff which is available at Amazon or on my page


Flesh laid back,


Raw, no cover to protect

From salt thrown upon there where the whip struck

Beneath the layer thin and thick

Atop with matted hair that hides

Emotions deep run and amid course shall stall

As the owner fails to know the path laid out

Laid out, but not in common diagram of visual plane

Leaving the direction needles spinning mindless there

Nor can one tell or master the storms drifting path

Should path be there hiding beneath a lacquer veneer while

The stronger weather yet to come as emotions gather

As they gather well before the bow that dips deep

So very deep, and then sliding down the hill so steep

Deep down, deep down, falling into the trough beneath emotions towers

Towers without sight of top, nor bottom have

Crashing then they upon decks wet awash with memories tossed

As the pilot fights to stay the line invisible before them

And fails to see the coming of the loss of light

As clouds of thought weigh down the saddened soul

While deck and hold covers fail to stop the rushing waters in

The ship stalls, shudders, shatters from within, rolls, and sinks

beneath a wall of tears.

She had Fame

No one knew her name

This simple woman who walked alone

In the rain and sun, she walked alone

On Sarasota’s streets, she walked alone

And no one knew her name

She walked in light and in the dark

She walked in sun and in the rain

No one knew her name, but she had fame

As she walked barefoot and alone

She had local fame as she walked alone

This woman who had no name

In a dress that was a hand-down

From a local church charity store

Where they didn’t know her name

In the rain and sun on Sarasota’s streets

She walked until death closed her eyes

One night when the rain fell along her way

And the wind drove others off the streets

She was there when death claimed no name

And no one was there as she fell on her path

And there she lay until the break of day

This woman without a name

But death came, found her with its cold hand

A wet bundle in the rain found with a cold hand

And claimed her without knowing her name.

STANDOFF by Gordon Kuhn @

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: