Gordon Kuhn | THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Category: Gordon Kuhn
- Where did the year go?
  
  Posted at 5:00 pm by Gordon, on December 23, 2018
  Another year moving into history. Seems strange. I am still in January.
  
  Well, for Jan and I it has been an up and down year with moving away and then moving back when we discovered that “friends” weren’t friends and that the VA doesn’t have the medical facilities in Georgia that we thought they had.
  
  So, here we are back in Florida with all of our friends and it is wonderful. The only sad thing is that my service dog Tread has a fungus in his hip and tail bone. No body knows how it got there and it is an expensive and long fight to save his life. We now have gone past $5,000 in expenses and have 5 months more of a fight to go. We do have wonderful help from our Vet and the Vets at the University of Georgia School of Veterinary Science. We are also fortunate in that we have medical insurance on him and that has reduced our cost significantly. BUT travel and motel rooms are not covered as is part of the medical. However, we are fortunate that we do have a lot covered and are very grateful for the folks at Healthy Paws.
  
  I have a newsletter at Constant Contact and if any of you wish to be a subscriber just send me you email to gkuhnwrites@aol.com
  
  In the meantime I am trying to find a literary agent for my true crime book: Nightmare in Terra Ceia.
  
  I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and I hope a wonderful New Year.
  
  Blessings! Gordon Kuhn
  
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  Posted in blogging., Crime, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Love, memories, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, novels, Poetry, true crime, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Family, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Life, NARRATIVE NONFICTION, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- WRITING A BOOK ABOUT A KILLER
  
  Posted at 1:59 am by Gordon, on December 14, 2018
  I have written a book about a killer. He came to Florida in 2008 and killed two women in 2009. His career as a criminal started when he was 14 and he raped a woman in Warren, MI. I am looking for an agent.
  
  He was convicted and given two life sentences for a home invasion in Sarasota, FL. He was given the death sentence for a brutal murder in Bradenton, FL. He is now up for another trial for murder in Sarasota, FL that took place in 2008. It took from 2008 to 2018 for the forensic investigators to find a dot of DNA on the woman’s dress to identify the killer.
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  Posted in blogging., Crime, death, Death Row in Florida, death sentence, Gordon Kuhn, home invasion, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, novels, POET, Poet, Poetry, Poets, rapists, Serial Killer, serial murderers, true crime, unassigned, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Crime, Death, Gordon Kuhn, Literature, true crime, Writing
- Constant Comment Newsletter
  
  Posted at 3:27 pm by Gordon, on December 11, 2018
  Hi,
  
  I have started a newsletter through Constant Contact. If you wish to receive postings like are on here then I suggest that you write me and give me your email address for inclusion into my newsletter posts. My email is GKUHNWRITES@AOL.COM and I look forward to communicating with you.
  
  Sincerely, Gordon Kuhn
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  Posted in alcoholism, blogging., Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, nonfiction, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Crime, Death, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- A DEATH
  
  Posted at 1:14 am by Gordon, on October 20, 2018
  A DEATH
  
  A distant friend has passed this night
  
  Passed and joined another realm, another dance
  
  Brandy and death together in a waltz
  
  Without tears falling from dry eyes
  
  The sorrow of the dancers goes on living
  
  Trapped in an eternal ballet as life goes on to die
  
  While nature’s odd sorts in pose stand frozen
  
  Where they are locked and wearing a disguise
  
  And you love me as someone you cannot stop
  
  While we will dance with brandy and with death
  
  Until the hours fall away and death caves in
  
  Leaving an opening where one had never been
  
  Under the shadows of the moon
  
  Amid a stagnate wind
  
  Remember us when you drink brandy and dance in a waltz
  
  While about us the dancers fall in death
  
  One upon one to cover the ballroom floor
  
  And tears cannot fall from dry eyes
  
  Even when we are all wearing a disguise
  
  And pretend to be just one across time
  
  Dancing with brandy and with death
  
  With dry eyes unable to drop a single tear
  
  And a distant friend has passed this night
  
  Passed and joined another realm, another dance
  
  While you and I stand in love, hand in hand
  
  And watch the world as for some it comes to an end.
  
  Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain 11/19/18
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing
- A CAST OF ELVIS
  
  Posted at 8:55 pm by Gordon, on October 17, 2018
  A CAST OF ELVIS
  
  It was early in the morning
  Before the sun had chosen to rise
  While in the West there was reported the coming of a storm
  For the clouds were stacked up to the top of the sullen sky
  Thunderheads stood out in darkness forming
  Telling a sleepy paperboy to carry a slicker in his backpack
  Flashes of electricity free-formed in their announcement
  While the church bells proclaimed early communion
  As the priests in robes of silk left their hidden dorm
  Down the street above where the butchers cut up fresh meat
  And one of their number walked briskly along
  A hidden pair of still warm panties gathered and out of sight
  Tucked in the folds of his blessed priestly cloth
  An overnight present from a grateful parish member
  Given freely for blessings and release from her sins
  But it was the early rising newspaper vendors that set off the alarm
  That Elvis was dead!
  And so the lines to meet him would be shorter later that day
  But curiosity was peaked about the bathroom floor
  And so, the restaurant cast a statute of the man to be blistered by the sun
  As it sat upon a bench with an open arm to fit around a fan
  It was covered with bird shit during the day
  And then stood waiting for the coolness that would come with the rising moon
  While wishing for rain to wash the bird slime into the gutter towards the sea
  And in the dark of the secret time
  The statues in the park would be set free to dance around in glee
  While others found a need to kneel and pray.
  
  10/17/18 Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn Poet in the Rain All Rights Reserved
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  Posted in Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, Relationships, writers, Writing
- Without a Boat (Amended and rewritten 10/15/2018}
  
  Posted at 6:23 am by Gordon, on October 16, 2018
  WITHOUT A BOAT (amended/rewritten 10/15/2018)
  
  Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  He had no need upon that to stand, for he could easily float
  Above the briny chilling cold and darkest dark of deep
  Where many sailors struggled and in death there they fell to sleep
  He had no need to save anyone from their drowning
  For their lives, they sole alone by free choice were forming
  While his force was in league with the ghostly godly nature
  And blessed with acceptance of the final cleansing rapture
  But man and God in their relationship had suffered a fracture
  And the book said Jesus had come with his blood to repair
  The breach that God had laid upon humans in despair
  And in trusting to his words to those he left behind
  Simple messages given to save and to remind
  All in time of his divine and spiritual nature
  But if today he were alive he would surely and sadly find that
  The church he never formed is now a business venture
  Run by modern-day Pharisees and scribes
  With guilt, incense, robes, and chants they monopolize
  with finance and profit at the center
  suggesting sins can be obliterated by monetary bribes
  But Jesus was a simple sailor who sailed without a boat
  Others never realized their faith would help them float
  above the briny cold and darkest dark of deep
  where many sailors had gone to deathly sleep
  then with his fellows and fish the main course for dinners
  he would sit and break bread with sinners
  upon the shore with a roaring fire the flames in curls
  Where he ate and laughed and talked about girls
  And there he broke bread and drank wine
  so long ago in an ancient time.
  
  Written on 10/14/18 Copyright, 2018 Gordon Kuhn All rights Reserved
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, poems, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- WITHOUT A BOAT
  
  Posted at 5:55 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2018
  WITHOUT A BOAT
  
  Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  
  He had no need upon that to stand
  
  He had no need to save anyone
  
  His force was in league with nature
  
  But man and God had suffered a fracture
  
  And the book says Jesus came to repair
  
  Today he would find sadly that
  
  The church he never formed is a business
  
  Run by modern-day Pharisees and scribes
  
  With guilt, incense, robes, and chants
  
  But Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  
  And he sat upon the shore with friends
  
  Where he ate and laughed and talked about girls
  
  And there he broke bread and drank wine.
  
  COPYRIGHT 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED GORDON KUHN 10/14/18
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Literature, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- DISAPPEARED
  
  Posted at 6:12 am by Gordon, on October 10, 2018
  DISAPPEARED
  
  Morning comes and I find you are not here
  
  Yet we are to believe that you are
  
  The bible sellers stand on their stages
  
  And claim the same claim from ages
  
  And I see about the world and even near
  
  Violence that you could easily stop
  
  You are a religious star
  
  But I am beginning to fear
  
  That like Santa Claus they lied
  
  It is a joke that society paid
  
  To convince us of a redeemer
  
  Who with the power to stop the slaughter
  
  Perhaps was never here
  
  Maybe like Santa Clause
  
  You just disappeared
  
  10/10/18 COPYRIGHT 2018 GORDON KUHN
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Online Writing, Poetry, Poets, QUESTIONS, Writing
- NIGHTFALL, THE LOVERS’ DANCE TAKE TWO
  
  Posted at 2:21 pm by Gordon, on August 26, 2018
  NIGHTFALL, THE LOVERS’ DANCE 2
  I recall the night when a hot summer rain came
  And settled in with a breeze bringing coolness to the room
  Where two lovers met and when they left never were the same
  In an old cheap apartment in downtown Sarasota
  Where they danced to a scratchy record
  It was missing the label but played
  On an old player, he’d found in the trash
  While drinking from cans of stale beer
  Rescued from a refrigerator that barely cooled
  But without cares, they drank in a dim light
  Coming from the only bulb left working in a corner table lamp
  And somewhere in the world, a wall was being torn down
  Somewhere a child was being born
  Somewhere someone was dying all alone
  As they danced
  They could hear water dripping from pipes in the wall
  Falling to the concrete foundation two floors below
  Somehow the couple had found each other
  Names were not needed that night and in a simple embrace
  Shared the last cigarette in a crushed pack left tossed to the floor
  While singing a song neither knew, but sang anyway.
  
  © 2018 Poet in the Rain: Gordon Kuhn
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poet, Poetry, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged poems, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- Rehearsing
  
  Posted at 3:03 am by Gordon, on May 8, 2018
  Rehearsing
  
  Another morning has come to greet the sun
  Chasing the night away as coffee brews on the stove
  A cup with spoon to swirl the cream in to blend the clouds away
  As I sit and think of questions that I cannot even form
  I wonder about the woman down the street who lives alone
  In a home being foreclosed on even as the year has come full circle
  Her son is college stuff and flunking out as he goes to class
  Neighborhood children run barefoot laughing as they pass
  At my comment of concern for nails and rocks and wiggly worms while
  The Church of the Holy Hypodermic will ring its chimes
  At dawn, lunch, and dinner time, a mile away as I listen and decide
  That the ringing bells are as lonely in their song
  As is the old man in the darkened corner house
  Alone, staring at a wall, waiting in silence for his time to die. 2/18/2015
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  Posted in blogging., fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Interviews, Literary Arts, Poet, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, reality, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Life, poems, Poetry, Relationships, religion, Writing
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Category: Gordon Kuhn

Posted at 5:00 pm by Gordon, on December 23, 2018

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Posted at 1:59 am by Gordon, on December 14, 2018

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Posted at 3:27 pm by Gordon, on December 11, 2018

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Posted at 1:14 am by Gordon, on October 20, 2018

A DEATH

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Posted at 8:55 pm by Gordon, on October 17, 2018

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Posted at 6:23 am by Gordon, on October 16, 2018

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Posted at 5:55 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2018

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Posted at 6:12 am by Gordon, on October 10, 2018

DISAPPEARED

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Posted at 2:21 pm by Gordon, on August 26, 2018

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Posted at 3:03 am by Gordon, on May 8, 2018

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