Standoff is a book of poetry and short stories. I will be placing posts here as I go. It is published and available at Amazon. You can also buy it directly from me by visiting one of my websites. Questions? I’ll be happy to answer them. Oh, if you buy it from me it is autographed by me to you personally. What a fantastic deal. No extra charge.
A book of poetry, short stories, and insanity.
By Gordon Kuhn
With one exception, this
is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary
and are not intended to refer to specific places or to living persons alive or
No part of this publication can be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical method without the
prior written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations embodied
in critical reviews.
Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn, All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States by Poet in the Rain
Cover: Photographer Mr. Derek Stillwagon: A
Mother and Her Son by permission Allison Hart
Dedication Photo of Chuck Van Durme by
Illustration on Page 2 of Mother and Child
from Istock Photo
Helicopter in Flight on Page 51: Charles Van
Van Durme in D.C. Page 56: Ms. Brandy Van Durme
OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR
Predator Book One “Do You Know How to Fly?”
The Pelman Murders
The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems
Rabbit in a Box
Dedicated to a personal friend who passed
away June 15, 2015. In this book is his story of a night when his helicopter
was shot down.
“Chuck” Van Durme
Oct 20, 1950 to June 15, 2015
Two tours in Vietnam. He was awarded the
Bronze Star, the Army Commendation Medal with a V, 16 Air Medals, and a Purple
Too soon the story of his life was taken from
us. But we are left with memories of a man that we called a friend.
Tomorrow Jan, Tread, and I drive to the U of F in Gainesville to the Internal Medicine Department to get a reevaluation of the fungus problem in Tread’s hip and tail bones. 3 hours up and 3 hours back plus the time there. Long day.
Yesterday we drove down to Port Charlotte. I lived there in the 1960s when it was a sleepy community. Today it is overgrown and very commercial. I really dislike it. But we were there to visit a friend of Jan’s who owns a store there. Jody has had a great business there but has decided after many years there is more to life than running a specialty antique, unique furniture, jewelry store to enjoy her life and so the store will be closed in another week.
We then travelled back through a pounding rain (stayed off of I-75 as when had driven South to Port Charlotte we had seen two wrecks where drivers had left the road and gone into the woods) and so went US 41 into Venice and had dinner there. I phoned a friend, Dick Harrison hopping to meet but weren’t able to do that as we had a time constraint and had to get home. Dick will probably make comment here. I have to say that if you go to Amazon and look him up in the book sales section (put in his name in the search bar in Amazon) you will find some of the most wonderful writing. He is a great writer and I am very proud to have him as a friend and mentor.
So, after a great dinner at Abbys in Miami, we headed home (this time on I-75 as the rain had stopped) and saw where other cars had gone off the road and into the woods.
At Abbys we met the owner and discussed his problems with fake service dogs. He told us that Tread was welcome anytime. He hates the fakes that come in there and has had to tell people to leave. Sad. That hurts it for us with real service dogs to have people take untrained dogs into a business like that and they don’t go under the tables, get in the way of waiters and waitresses, sniff people, and more. Anyway, tomorrow Gainesville.
So, it is Sunday 7/21/19 and I am trying to write a short story, finish a true crime novel, submit some poetry for publication, and more…..much more….too much more. Plus, good grief, I haven’t filed my taxes yet for 2018.
So, what’s new with all of you? Anybody got a Hamster for a gift present? I never owned one. I guess as a child I was deprived as all of my friends had Hamsters as pets. Everyone except me.
My mother told me that Hamsters would eat my cat. That was curious as I didn’t own a cat.
The Gospel of Micah, AKA the Gospel of Enoch. Micah was a goat herder on a planet known to us as Heaven. He was a simple man but became prominent in the politics of religion when he challenged the idea that the earth was flat. “It’s not,” he spoke up in a class he was taking on Goat Herding that was required of all goat herders. “It is curved, like a woman’s breast, but not soft, hard as concrete.” 6.23.19 Copyright Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain.
With apologies to the Mormons: And it came to pass that Micah was summoned forth to meet the highest council having been through the lower courts to argue that the earth was round. “You still claim the earth is round?” An aged sage sat forward and waved his cane in the goat herders face. But Micah held his ground despite the waving rod thrust up against his nose.”Excuse me, sir, but yes, it is round.” The council sat back and were grave all around. “But don’t you understand that we’ve been teaching humans for centuries that the place is flat? Then you come along and wish it to be known that this place, this Earth is round? I say to my brothers on the council, are we not in motion to send the herder down to the planet in banishment?” Whereupon God’s younger brother Phil entered the central room and to all did astound. “I am here to speak on the goat herder’s behalf.” A murmur did raise among those in the hall and one said, “I thought he had been banished or…..or locked up somewhere.” But Phil stood forth with an askew grin, “No, I have escaped and come to stand before you this day. For surely this herder, this gentleman who tends our sheep and smells like them needs defense from such plotting here.”
The days are turning slowly to the end of our ownership here. We put the property up for sale and had an offer in three days. We took it. Selling off everything here.
We have a home in Florida. This was a vacation home. Unfortunately there are problems. The primary is the medical services provided here in Albany by the VA. There is a Marine Corps base close by and it has medical for Vets, but it is only doctors. If you need medical for ANYTHING other than seeing a doctor you have to drive 90 miles S. to Dublin (and they are not fully equipped) or you drive 200+ to Atlanta. In Florida I have two medical units within 15 miles (the closest is under 10) and a hospital 45 miles away. There are two VA Vet readjustment centers, one in Sarasota and one in St. Pete (I go there after being tossed out of the Sarasota unit for “failure to accept services prescribed by the unit’s manager) and that translates to: he wanted me to undergo hypnosis to take me back into VN. He was NOT a licensed hypnotist. He was NOT a trained social worker. He had a degree in anthropology. I said “no.” He told me that because I was refusing his decision I had to leave the vet center. OK, I did, and I wasn’t the first to have that happen. Well, he is no longer in charge of that unit. I wrote a 3 page letter about him and sent it to the VA headquarters in DC.
Will have the movers here this weekend to take back what we had delivered here a few months back. Good thing to find out in time the problems with moving here. Will be most happy to get back to our friends in Florida. Have a contract on the property and have an agreement on a lot of the equipment on the farm. Sad, but necessary. VA medical for me is virtually nonexistent here. All of our friends are in Florida. So, GA is not working out and selling everything here.
Another Friday. Another morning. Decisions to be made.
The property in Albany, GA has a contract on it. Wow, cannot believe how fast that happened. It just all fell in place within less than a week.
HUNGER SEEKING HUNGER
Beyond the window glass
Just there across the green cut grass
Dark blue and grey lies our pond that is filled with life
Pelted with a soft rain that sudden came
Leaving the surface dimpled, breaking the smoothness
Near a group of water birds that sat and pruned their feathered bodies
To dry off the wet from a recent dive for a fish for food
While an alligator who had been asleep in the sun was awakened
Disturbed it slid in off the bank in search of something to eat
Then, tail side to side, slowly the hunt began
With only eyes above the surface
It worked its way toward the birds who turned to look.
Good Wednesday to you all! For me it started with being startled out of my sleep. That was because I had a rough night and needed more sleep and my wife had to wake me because I had a breakfast meeting to go to. So, I changed the time and met a buddy about an hour later than normal. He is a former Army Medic that did two tours in Vietnam.
He had wanted to be a doctor. He joined the Army and requested training in field medical. He then did two tours as an airborne medic. He saw enough blood and gore to end his desire for being a medical doctor. He is loaded with PTSD. Sad, really, I think he would have been a good physician.
Jan and I are both tired from driving to and from Georgia. Just a long trip surrounded by idiots either driving too fast or too slow.
One thing I will never understand is that near the Florida/Georgia border their is activity by both the Florida Highway Patrol but on the Georgia side they are like a bee hive that has been whacked with a stick and the idiots on the highway just go flying along. Between the border and Tifton it is a good chance to see (on both sides N and S) five to six cars pulled over. One would think that would slow things down. The answer is NO they just go flying along oblivious to the stops.
We have a radar detector but always drive within the speed limit. I just don’t understand these other people. And then, you will occasionally see not just one cop car with a stop but two and three on one car. Now why would someone want to bring dope into either state. Stupid. They are waiting for you.
Anyway, that’s it for today. Tired. Already irritated a nephew who is anti-gun, anti-Catholic, anti-Irish, and anti-Jewish. So I shall retire into the sunshine. Until tomorrow.
Spent a week in Albany, GA on the 4.25 +- acres there that we own. Visited with the neighbor, his daughter, and her newborn son. Weather was nice. Little rain. Got some things done around the “farm” and in town. Then listed the property for sale. My health is not good and so we decided to sell.
Sending a copy of Standoff to Claire Perkins at firstname.lastname@example.org. She will review and do a radio show with me about the book. Any writer out there needs to know Claire for promotional purposes. She is great and works hard for you.
Anyway, so back in Florida and writing. Had a hard time up there writing.
Desperate for the sake of an attack of desperation
Nothing to say, for what can be said,
As I am being led with just the fact that
The story is that I guess I am acting in silent retaliation
While the walls of life have so much there to be read
And I know, for some, I am not being much of a poetic diplomat
Too frank, too bold, a voice of exasperation
But in honesty, I see nothing to tame in the future
Looking out a smudged window I see a distorted culture
Nothing there that the best despair will be unable to nurture
Nor do it’s best to capture and contain the fumbling lost while
As a writer the writer stumbles forward searching for the proper style
While desperation is unable to hold back life from moving forward
I find myself a boat adrift, floundering, fighting the strengthening move shoreward
Unconscious the craft is of where the rocks and shoals wait to rip apart its hull
While the world is watching from above riding upon a single seagull
That has taken flight to oversee the death or survival
And life then takes on the form or lack of revival
As a thousand voices lifted cannot be heard above the roar
Of the surf beneath where a single bird does soar
And looks away in dismay for an opposite shore
Where peace it will find, peace it is to restore.