COMMENTS AND FOLLOWS 9/3/2017 A


MovieBabble, thanks for the follow. A reviewer of movies at

https://moviebabblereviews.com/2017/08/06/worst-movies-of-july-2017/

very interesting commentary there.

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Here is an interesting place by Juansen https://lonelyblueboy.wordpress.com/2017/08/04/my-experience-in-a-mental-health-facility/

Very forceful, passionate, and open. Wow. Juansen, I know depression and I know it can easily kill a person. Thanks for sharing. Powerful.

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https://charlesfrenchonwordsreadingandwriting.wordpress.com/2017/08/13/it-can-happen-here-a-lesson-from-charlottesville-virginia/

Charles, I was not aware of Sinclair Lewis’s book “It Can’t Happen Here” so thanks I will have to get it and read it. And thanks for liking my post.

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Four more that you should look at if you haven’t already. Very interesting, from the heart and soul of these writers. Well worth the time to visit and maybe follow. I am using links only because of time needs and not because of any other reason. GO and ENJOY these are places of fresh air!

https://dandougblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/private-political-journals-vol-1/

The Second Coming

https://thesarahdoughty.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/pennies-2/

https://franksolanki.wordpress.com/2017/06/25/%e2%80%8bpretty-lady/

 

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Predator: Do You Know How To Fly? 09.03.2017 A


This is a continuation of the text in the book: Predator; The Man Who Didn’t Exist; Do You Know How to Fly?

The main title (Do You Know How to Fly?) was a question posed by Delmer Smith to a woman victim as he held our out naked over her 12th floor balcony in the middle of the night and (after he had physically and sexually abused her) he asked her if she knew how to fly.

The book was developed over a period of years with interviews of not only the killer, but of his fiancé at the time, the victims who were alive and approachable, law enforcement, and the attorneys involved. If you desire to buy the book it can be purchased directly from me (I sign it) or at Amazon, or Barnes and Noble, or any bookstore for that matter. My website is http://www.authorgordonkuhn.com  and you can make a purchase there.

Okay, so here we go:

Chapter 2 “He’s my Uncle.”

The defenses plea for mercy.

“He’s My Uncle.”

It is August 14th, 2012 and Mr. Brunvand, Delmer Smith’s defense attorney, will introduce two young women to the Court. They have traveled to Bradenton, Florida from Detroit, Michigan out of love for the defendant. Brunvand plans to show a different side of Delmer to the Court. It is an attempt to obtain some leniency for his client to avoid the death penalty. “Good morning,” he said to the first woman. She had just taken a seat on the stand and been sworn in, “Please tell the Jury your full name.”

“Alicia Phillips.”

“And Alicia, how old are you?” He smiled gently at her.

“Twenty-nine.”

Brunvand continues with questions regarding Ms. Phillips residence and employment. She has come from her home in Bradford, Michigan where she lives with her 3-year-old daughter. She has come to Bradenton to speak in open court on behalf of a man being held on first-degree murder charges.

“How do you know Delmer Smith?”

“He’s my uncle.”

Brunvand asks her if she can point out Delmer in the courtroom “and tell the Jury what he’s wearing?”

She does so, indicating a man seated at the defense table wearing “a striped blue shirt, collared shirt.”

“And is he someone who you consider yourself close to?” Brunvand gently asks.

“Yes, I love him very much.”

“Do you recall an instance as a child where Delmer came to your aid?”

“Yes,” Ms. Phillips went on to tell about an instance where she had “been bad” and was being punished for it by getting “a spanking.” She explained that her grandmother, Velma Shelton Smith, Delmer Smith’s mother, had picked up a switch, her apparent singular choice for dealing with such issues, and was spanking her when her nose began to bleed. Delmer, she told the Court, stepped in between his mother and his niece protecting her from being struck anymore by his mother.

“And he calmed me down, and—you know, he always came to my aid.”

To Be Continued.

AuthorGordonKuhn.com

GordonKuhn.com

or gkuhnwrites@aol.com

 

 

 

 

CONTACTS 09.01.2017 A


More contacts.

Harsh Reality wrote that like my comment on “Life.” And, I did and do like it. Harsh Reality is also known as Opinion Man. He is someone who really puts a lot of thought into what he is writing and has a huge following.

https://aopinionatedman.com/2017/08/16/life-5/?c=451612#comment-451612

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MakeItUltra is another site worth visiting. The author speaks on therapy, narcissism, and narcissistic abuse. That can be found at https://makeitultrapsychology.wordpress.com/2017/08/10/5-signs-you-havent-fully-healed-from-narcissistic-abuse/

There he  offers 5 signs about narcissistic abuse. Very interesting.

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Man of Many Thoughts is another that I have commented on and is well worth a journey to his blog to see what he is writing about. Guaranteed he can set up a scenario  that will generate a lot conversations. https://keithgarrettpoetry.com/2017/08/18/dismantling-of-america/

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Then there is this delightful blog BlueFishh. The author welcomes you warmly and explains what she is all about in a few simple paragraphs. The blog used to be call Economix.

https://bluefishh.wordpress.com/about/?blogsub=confirming#blog_subscription-3

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If I could… (Friday Night Poetry Corner #142)

You have to visit this location. Seriously. The art work is interesting in itself, a bit confusing at first, but draws the artist/poet/searchers/etc (etc is a pretty big area) right in. So go, read.

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Lakshmi Padmanaban is an Indian girl who …. well, you can read about her at

https://thethoughtfulrants.wordpress.com/about/

if I tell you anything it will spoil the adventure of going and reading her blog. So, go, now. Just do it.

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jade0207  ah, this one is an area for ladies.

https://being1nsane.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/why-we-desperately-need-girl-friendships-in-todays-times/

164 bloggers like that page!!!!!!

Personally I have always had more girl relationships than male relationships. I guess I just like women more than men and, as far as my mom and dad were concerned, that was and is a good thing.  Women are just so incredible, love everyone I ever met.

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Later more on Delmer Smith and the victims whose blood he shed.

 

 

 

 

CONTACTS 12:52 08.31.17 A


HI!

Well, just a note to say that I am very tired and I don’t really know why. Really. I don’t. Perhaps it has something to do with my sleeping on the floor last night Anyway, I am taking in some amino acid supplements and hope they will help get me out of this fog.  I was told that they would and, of course, I also heard it on the internet and we all know that what ever we hear on the internet MUST be true. I can tell you that whiskey and CC over ice do not help.

So, what are we here for today? Well, first off I want to thank those who have commented on my blog, or who are challenging me, or who have just decided to try and irritate me for no other reason than it seems like a good idea.

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1.) OM is Opinianated Man: one of this entries about life can be found at

https://aopinionatedman.com/2017/08/17/and-then-there-was-me/

And that is worth the time to look up and to read. He also writes with the name: Harsh Reality

2) https://thethoughtfulrants.wordpress.com/2017/08/20/titbit-thought-25/   NOTE: I have reblogged her.

3)   https://inmyyoungerandmorevulnerableyears.wordpress.com/2017/04/22/a-poem-about-depression/

Is an excellent piece to start with researching this writer.

4) https://bjsscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/08/29/listening-for-gods-word/

5) https://dirtyscifibuddha.com/musings/

6) https://kgbethlehem.com/2017/08/20/if-i-could-friday-night-poetry-corner-142/

These are all interesting places with strong writing drawn from raw emotions pounding out a beat  that will keep you engaged with questions long past your reading what they have produced.

.com, Amazon, and at Barnes & Noble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Listening for Gods word


While I am not a “religious” type, I am a spiritual type. I don’t believe that organized reality is actually reality. I find too many “holes” in it and I have yet to find anyone who could or can return an honest answer to an honest question. That said, an interesting area to read with lots of connections to other bloggers is at: https://bjsscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/08/29/listening-for-gods-word/

PATRIOT Poetry with a streak of random thoughts. 8.17.17


PATRIOT

So proud you stand, you patriot
So proud above the cast iron statute
Of Robert E Lee astride his horse
You think you are creating Camelot
And you shouted with glee
As the statute fell down past the aged tree
That had shaded it, protected it, been there
In snow and storm until you arrived, you patriot
And you stomped on his face, you patriot
You stomped on his face like some superior
You stomped on his face and shouted with raised arms
For you are a patriot and set about to free us from our history
Set about to destroy our history and our freedoms because
You are a patriot.
No, you are a coward.
You are scum.

 

Copyright © 2017 Gordon Kuhn All rights reserved.

truth slain and random thoughts over ice cream 8.14.17


Truth Slain on a TV Stand

The morning bell was met head-on
And each child followed the trail as winter won
To where truth then was set upon and promptly slain
For sadly truth had gathered thinking it safe
As if fearing safety it mattered simply not
The rot that had grown up in Webster’s lot
While all about the dreamer’s world came that
A web of cotton thread all wound about
That hid the learned from the learning there
With great gashes to the bone through grisly hair
I watched as torment swept up the path
To claim that which was left of the day
Coiled in self-incriminating powered doubt
For none was there with whom to share
And none was there to take the classic dare
But, instead, the gentle waves of sympathy rose
To climb aboard the train of memories
Before the closing bell had rung and
Students filled with nonsense about the world around
Ran home to watch Kukla, Fran, and Ollie
On the small black and white TV screen
That had come to land in a place of pride
An altar of electronic marvel to stun the world
The twisting movement about of rabbit ears
The frantic swirling the antenna about
In hopes to get the camera shot
Before the ending of the show
In search of the spot, the spot, the spot to find
To make the frazzled snow look more real
Where Lucy, Desi, Ethel and Fred would be
Along with an accordion player had earlier graced the day
Making life appear as easy without pain or torment
They lied, the lied, they spun and twisted the thin posts
And they lied, they lied, while we ate cold beans in a pouring rain
While children we ate Tomato Soup with thick buttered white bread
Prophesied to help us in at least 8 ways
Enriched (we found was putting back that removed) for us
Only to be told so many years later that
White bread will kill you as it brings on the fat
And that Lucy and Dezi, Ethel and Fred
Didn’t get along, but we never knew and so
We twisted those damn antennas round and round
Until we found the spot, the spot, the damned spot
And certain ghost like creatures appeared in scattered form
Focused on the glass screen as if the world was somehow going right
While war was off in a foreign land
And so we searched for the spot, the spot, the spot. 8.13.2017

Clouds in your Eyes & Random Thoughts 0821/8.5.17


Clouds in Your Eyes

by Gordon Kuhn Copyright 8.5.17 all rights reserved

I see clouds in your eyes, clouds in your eyes
Clouds where none should ever be
Like murky cream in your cold cup of coffee there
I see clouds in your eyes, clouds in your eyes
Clouds that should never be there
And I think there is even a tear, a small tear hiding there
There where none should also never be.

It was just a chance thing meeting up with you
Years back at a truck stop late one rainy night
No reason for that to ever happen, never
Unplanned event and unplanned conversation
Unless fate was there with me and you
For truly you showed up out of the blue
And sat and told me lies while you drank coffee with me
Just like we used to do, like we used to do
And sat and told me lies while we drank cold coffee together
Just like we used to do when we smiled at each other
And nowhere did I think I’d ever again see that smile
That smile that was also so quick and free.

But I see clouds in your eyes, clouds there in your eyes
The same as when a friend once set you free
But that was a long time back to then
When life had set us all in a tragic spin
And you fell from a relationship that brought tears to your eyes
And I hoped that none would ever again be there for anyone to see

I know you are with another
A friend who was once like a brother
But no where in the world did I ever expect
to have our friendship end in pure neglect

But I see the clouds in your eyes
Where none should ever be
I see clouds in your eyes
And I think I see a tear
Where none should also never be
In a truck stop so very long ago

And I would have stood and hugged you long and hard
But the distance between us more that I could reach past
And so I just let it be with a handshake and a “I gotta go.”
So I will go and let the past be the past and hope the feeling inside will last
But there were clouds in your eyes, clouds in you eyes
And a very tiny tear.

Beer Cans on the Counter and Random Thoughts at 0436 08.03.17


Just woke and fixed a salad made up of cucumber, sweet onion, tomato, and Caesar dressing. Love it. Thinking of writing a play. Wish I had the talent. Don’t think that I do. In the meantime I look at my family history and think of all the rich material there and believe it is sad to let the story not be told. I look at life and see mistakes, countless mistakes, and a tragedy that should never have occurred and wonder just how to handle it. I wonder if it should be told and does it really matter. I don’t know. Really. I don’t know. I just see this pile of shit (can I say that?) and wonder about it all. I wonder who would it matter to except for myself?

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Once
a poem by Gordon Kuhn Copyright 08.03.17

I was young once and lived all alone.
Each night I sat drunk in the dark
And listened to the neighbors fighting down the street
He said, she said, oh who gives a royal fuck.

My nightly dinner a plate of fresh boiled spaghetti,
The sauce a greasy mix of fried bacon with sweet onion
My drink a tepid six pack of cheap bought beer
The couch before the tv was my throne
And drunk I had not a drop of respectability
As I staggered about in my individuality
Inside the one bedroom apartment
Lost in a world without companionship
Lost without counsel, without guidance
And faced life confused and all alone.

Beer cans setting on the counter
One rolled up under the recliner rocker
Neighbors fighting down the street
He said, she said, oh who gives a fuck
Simply leave me alone, all alone
Its how I want to live, all alone
Being young once and eating a dinner of spaghetti
Its sauce fried bacon and onion on top a greasy mix
Washed down by a six pack of Old Milwaukee
I could not afford a better fare.

Beer cans setting on the counter
My body asleep on the floor
Alcoholism was the bed time Teddy Bear
Beside the bed near the door
Where I could see the beer can under the rocker
The neighbors screaming, fighting down the street
He said, she said, oh who gives a fuck.

Beer cans setting on the counter
The neighbors fighting down the street
He said, she said, oh who really gives a fuck.

Poem Dismantled by Love & Random Thoughts 8.2.17


Dismantled by Love

By Gordon Kuhn Copyright 1/9/2017

She came softly
Easily to his bed was led
And he found himself—suddenly dismantled
Unexpected the world spinning about his head
As if enjoying a first time cup of rich Turkish Coffee
Followed by a sip of mint liqueur that was fed
From the tip of his lover’s tongue warm red
That sought his mouth out amid a smile of rapture deep
To share as did they while the world disappeared forgotten
While within tousled sheets the pair gamboled
And he surrendered to her charms thus, so gently wed.              1/9/2017

The agony of love touches one and all in our lives here. Perhaps that is what God was thinking at the separation of man from the eternal flame and that is what we most seek in a variety of ways. We were once united in a whole framework but chose to be separate and distinct and now we are facing the dissimilarities brought upon by that determination to experience emotions as one single voice. It makes me think of the concept of the Borg. All thoughts together, linked as one, and now  we are separate. Like with the Borg, perhaps in the end resistance is futile, but right now what I want is a cheeseburger and fries. Fries! I cannot find any good fries anymore unless I go to McDonalds. And that is a fact. GK 1327/08.02.17