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.


Lost

 

She had blue eyes,

Vulnerable, blue eyes

And they held him in their grasp

Gentleness  lived there so much he had to gasp

And she never spoke; she never once spoke

Yet her eyes could easily jokingly poke

And raise the issue of man and woman

As the world floated past the two who were human

As they lay in a grassy field, in a soft and wavy grassy field

Their hands from the sun wide-open eyes did shield

And his protected hers so deep they were and so blue

As they lay in peace and in love so true.

She had blue eyes, deep, soft blue eyes

Vulnerable blue eyes.

Copyright 2/3/2015 Gordon Kuhn

Poem from Standoff: Bare


STANDOFF  is a book of poems that I will be publishing soon. This poem is one of them: BARE. I simply decided that I would post this one for the time being. I hold the copyright on this. 

BARE

Flesh laid back,

Bare!

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.

10/3/2016 Copyright GORDON KUHN ass rights reserved.

I wish I could play a harmonica.


I wish I knew how to play a harmonica. For that would be grand to sit on my porch and let the sound slip out towards the sky. I wish I knew how to play a violin, for that would be awesome as I love the sound of such. And then there is the guitar. What a wonderful song it can sing. At last I come to the piano. How fantastic a sound like a band singing all to itself with ups and downs of emotions that can only be reached and touched by a soul inflamed with the love of music. I’ve bought a dozen or so of those cheap harmonicas only to throw them out in time. Oh how I wish I could play the harmonica but its like the flute I have that lies dusty on the shelf and only is picked up when I wish to feel so foolish as to try.

The Twentieth Anniversary.


Yesterday, August 3rd, was Jan and my 20th Anniversary. I love her so much. We went out and ate dinner and relived the memories of our first night together as a married couple.  Those memories always bring smiles from the actual marriage in a small chapel (just she and I, the minister and his wife) with a cow bell that they range from the steeple to announce our wedding. Photos, flowers, all dressed up. We didn’t tell anyone because we didn’t want to have anyone go out and buy gifts and things as we had our own households and didn’t need anything. Unfortunately, we made a lot of people angry at us because we eloped. Well, anyway, we rented a cabin with a hot tub. Our luck.. the cabin was haunted. Out on the side porch was a hottube. Jan and I had never used a hottub and thought it would be fun. We turned it on. It got hot. I almost broke the cover getting it off,……something about not crawling across the cover to unlatch it…heard a loud snap sound and crawled back off. My lady came out and tested the water….perfect. She jumped in and I went to get my swim suit on (we were very visible from the road you understand with woods behind us houses across the street and up and down the hillside). I went inside and changed and came back to jump into the tub but the sliding glass doors were closed; and before Jan could stop me I walked into them. The next thing I knew I was on my  back with a very sore forehead having bounced off the doors. I sat up and Jan was in the tub laughing. We both laughed. I was fine and it set up the night for hugs and a great memory of the day. That night I tried to sleep but was hounded all night long with things (remember I said the place was haunted) touching my face and arms that were uncovered from under the blankets. Jan said “I’m out of here” and went back to the first floor. We checked for flying bugs….none. Tried to get back to sleep and again the same things….something touching my face, neck, arms, and hands. We never found out what it was. Whenever I’d flip on the lights there was nothing visible that could be touching me or her. The next day, our one night rental over, we went into Gatlinburg and rented a non-haunted room. 20 years plus one day. I love my wife.

A REVIEW OF THE WIDOW’S CLIFF AND OTHER POEMS


5.0 out of 5 stars Beautiful, Versatile Collection Of Verse.., September 9, 2014
This review is from: The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems (Paperback)
I recently received this book of poetry from the author in exchange for a fair review. In all honesty I have to say that I have enjoyed this man’s work, and this collection very much. In fact it’s been one of the most enjoayble expereinces with a book of poetry I have encountered in quite some time. Admittedly, I am not a fan at all of modern poetry that tends to be very dark, and, doesn’t rhyme or conclude as classic poetry does. As a poet and editor myself, I have loved and composed my own poetry since boyhood and I am quite set in my ways. This collection is the perfect cross over in my opinion as to the modern touch, while still keeping the classic style alive and thriving. Author Gordon Kuhn augments his subject matter with great depth as to reciting a real story, as well as delving into much heartfelt emotion. Emotion that gather the reins of both matters of the heart, as well as being poignant and reminiscent. In many ways Kuhn’s excellent style reminds me of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Both in its structure, and in its imagery. And I am also very impressed with Kuhn’s versatility of subjects. There is such a wide range of subject matter put to verse here its almost as if the author writes opposite of so many others. That is, instead of thinking about something and writing it down, he instead just writes what he is thinking. The end result being a very versatile style of wonderful poems that I feel will delight many, and be well worth your time. I enjoyed this book very much and feel you will be both entertained and inspired by it as well… Highly recommended… : )