Category Archives: Poets

WHAT?


        by improve everywhere

Do you like poetry? I like poetry. My dogs have always like poetry. Have you ever heard me read poetry? How about if I sang it to you? Any chance for that? Come on where’s the support here, there, over there. It has to be here someplace, why else would I write poetry? Happy poetry, sad poetry, nonsense poetry, and serious poetry. Ok, you can just sit and read then…..but if you do make it MY poetry that you read: The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems on Amazon, or for a very select few, Rabbit in a Box also on Amazon.

You do want to support me, don’t you. Of course you do. Amazon, Gordon Kuhn….come and buy a book!   My dog thanks you.

 

 

VOICES UNHEARD


The poet speaks in voices  unheard

Their words are spread upon a page unread

within the confusion of mind speak

the poet’s pen travels on, and on, and on

and where from does the lighted darkness come

where from does the need arise

to shake the hand of God, I suppose

and yet no one shall ever know.

 

What haunted inquiries doth possess

The soul of a single man

What creatures known but by him

Shall raise their faces from the darkness

From the vault kept locked within

Where memories persist to crawl

And slither then upon the walls

Where with a sublime poison touch the soul from within

To cradle him and bath him in memories of his sins

Cannot the treasure once spoken of so profound

See past the surface marred with scratches

Caused by the fight for life and light within

The casket of memories held tightly unexposed

Nails seeking a spot so soft to break into the day

And yet, my friend, darkness looms ahead

Darkness seeks the firm foundations grown so weak

Where only memories of evil purpose takes to peak

On a mountain never climbed and waiting

Waiting for the final curtain to descend

Upon the poet whose voice is silent from within.                                                              02/02/17

Eric the Field Mouse conti.


Eric sat up in the smother of hay and looked at the two other mice whose faces had emerged from behind a pile of damp fiber. “I told you he would wake  this day,” said the one to the right. “I cast stones and they said it would be today.”

“Oh shut up,” said the one to the left. “What do you know about stone casting.”

“Ha, more than you.”

Slowly  the both emerged from the shadows.  “You’ve been asleep a long time,” they both said almost in unison. “Mind if I touch you,” the one of the right said and extended a paw.

“Who are you and where I am I,” Eric said pulling back as he realized that both of these field mice were much larger than he, almost like rats.

“Ah, you don’t need to worry yourself about who we are but as far as where you are well, that is another matter.”

“And the time. The time and day of the year is important.”

“Fine,” Eric said angrily. “Where am I. Isn’t this Farmer Gragers’  farm?”

“Yes, but another time and day and you’ve travelled here. You would think you have come forward a hundred years but in reality you slid sideways. We tell every arrival that they have gained a hundred years. It is just easier that way.”

“Yes,  Easier.”

“How so? Well, when are able to you will see and find you are different.”

“Yes,” the one on the right said excitedly.

“Can I tell him where he is?”  The two looked at each other  and then said, “Outside, just down the road is the town of Llandia. Do you know it?”                                                                                                                                                   1/13/17 Copyright Gordon Kuhn Unedited Text.

 

ALEEN Continued


And so as evening fell fully away from the day and
Those watching went their separate way
Speaking not of evil left there cloaked in dark wings
And left behind small Aleen to sit high upon the hill
The rocky hill that overlooked the city of LLandia
Where the mission keeper sat and looked past them as they left
Brooding about the mission sent him on
And snarled at those who turned to look back at him
For what was their want? Could they have found a better one.
His dark fangs revealed his mood and waited for the taste of blood.
That would run from throats slit by fingernail and dragon tail of wingspan spread
He would wait till fully dark and then mount his quest and deliver the blows
While the silly younger ones left behind who groveled at their teachers feet
Waited for a tasty treat and yet
And yet he recalled Anlock the Strong who spoke to him so long before
Long before the mission clear was in his mind and vision spell
There he had lain away so many days and nights until it became so very clear
That death, dear death would somehow come once again near
And as told when Anloch’s face was close, so close he could hear
The breathing from the lungs deep behind the lacquered armored hide
“Kill them swifty, little one. Surprise those of your kind larger than you.
Surprise them at your strength and keep in mind,
There will come a day when you will have to kill them too.” 1/12/2017

HAUNTED MEMORIES


Angels or demons cast their nets

Wide caught those with memories

Memories of rights and wrongs, I think

Those with recall so sharp and clear

Memories of thoughts themselves cursed

Cursed as were the moments in time brought forth

Forth brought the issues as played out in life complex

Angels or demons, I know not which crawl through my mind

And pull me from the present to the past intense

Visions not wished to replay

But seen there on the big screen

Unable to stop them from their haunting.            1/10/17

Dismantled by Love


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

Battle Flag


Battle Flag

 

The battle flag sudden snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

Above the post on the hill that even God had not known about back then

On a hot and sticky day where boys waited amid the baking heat

All seemed to stand still in the sudden roar of quiet to those there that day

Broken by the Sergeant’s sudden shout of “guns up!” that tore the silence apart

Rifles swung up then their muzzles pointed out and down across the clearing

Where men of difference moved so quiet in the sea of grass

Then, with hearts beating hard in all the chests of those there that hour and day

Searing rounds were sent out for the human shearing

A burst returned ripped holes in the flag that flew in the wind

Blood and mud spattered, its fabric so worn and so thin

That flew above boys that day sudden turned into men

It snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

Above the post on the hill that no one, not even God knew about back then.                

6/10/13 edited 12/22/2016

0400 Martian at the door.


I had the oddest thing happen this morning at 0400. Well, first I woke up which wasn’t odd in itself. I had bumped the table near where I was sleeping on the floor and of course it complained that I had done so and rattled and clunked while settling back where it should have been. Tables do that when aroused from their sleep, you know. But that wasn’t strange as I am use to that sort of goings on in the middle of the night with the furniture having a go at having fun. In any case, I decided to go outside and peer out at the dark as it is dark here at 0400. But just as I stepped out the front door I ran into a Martian that I have not seen in years. He was obviously distraught and I asked why. Of course he then politely asked if I would like to share a cup of coffee that he had just made. They do that, Martians. They generally keep a good store of coffee on hand and like to share, but the stuff is absolutely horrible. So, I declined which made him a bit brighter actually as he didn’t want to share in the first place. He then told me that he was moving to Saturn. I asked why. He told me it was because he was a Hillary supporter and upset that she didn’t win. “Oh,” I said, “I didn’t know.” He said it was very true and because he had told his friends that he was moving to Saturn that he had to go. Well, I wished him a good trip and told him I really needed to get back to bed or, at least, back inside as I didn’t want to be caught outside at 0400 with a Martian drinking Martian coffee (dreadful stuff). I mean, try explaining that to the neighbors.

A good book for you!


scan-rabbit-in-a-box-cover

This is a book of poetry, a slice of life. It is a reflection of what has been and what will come. If you know of someone who likes to read, likes or even dislikes poetry (some have read this book that do not like poetry and yet they have written me and say write more! because of the way I write) then THIS is the book for you and for your friend. $10 https://authorgordonkuhn.com/

 

Off and Running


Just opened an e-commerce store. You can find it at Gordon-Kuhn-author or gordonkuhnauthor.com

I know it is confusing. Yes?

Everything I do is confusing. Computers hate me. Wrist watches hate me.  Anyway, you can find me on the internet and by my books there, comment on them, write me and tell me what’s happening. AND I look forward to hearing from you.

Best to you, Gordon.