Post Traumatic Disorder | THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Category: Post Traumatic Disorder
- A Soft Tapping in Darkness Came
  
  Posted at 3:37 pm by Gordon, on June 30, 2018
  A Soft Tapping in Darkness Came
  Last night I was wakened from a deep and troubled sleeping
  Sleeping deep, blanket wrapped, and restless in the dark
  When there came a soft tapping, a gentle and easy rapping
  Gently placed upon the cold glass window near my bed
  And from that slight sound, that gentle tap, I was drowsy led
  Led from my sleeping deep and blanket wrapped, restless in the dark
  To peer with no slight concern and wonder and seek the sight
  That lay hidden, perhaps in death, in the rain filled night
  Death in memories with ghosts that leave the living in fright
  While hoping and thinking it must be a branch from my tree
  One close to the side of the window that I could plainly see
  That in the wind and rain that storm filled restless night
  Could rap and tap and do its best to cause me no common fright
  Should I but simply stare off to where there was no light
  And then sudden appear some phantom in my sight
  Some ghost of man or men who walked last night
  Whose shadows live and come from the past
  While haunting now their sad memories are cast
  They that walk their walks restless always every night
  So close and far they live and walk within my sight
  From memories best dealt with in the light
  Memories best left alone during a restless, sleepless night
  Apparitions real perhaps that haunt my every thought
  While in a restless sleep just peace is sought
  Simple peace of mind that cannot for any price be bought.
  
  © 2018 Gordon Kuhn, All Rights Reserved 6/30/2018
  
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  Posted in nonfiction, POET, Poetry, Post Traumatic Disorder | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Depression, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Writing
- Catatonic in Milwaukee
  
  Posted at 2:37 am by Gordon, on May 25, 2017
  Stiffness of mind can be a problem and should be noted to tend along with a great deal of anger. I deal with anger. I have problems with anger. I can be very un-nice with anger when it overtakes me and lately it has been near me too much. I think it is just that the world is moving at such a strange pace and what I hope for is not actually happening but the reverse is. Maybe that holds true for you as well. In any case being catatonic would be a problem not only in Milwaukee but in Bradenton as well.
  
  I wonder if people can really change or is it just backwash that we get when we think we changed and then something happens that drags us back into all the same shit. I don’t know. I just known that when looking at my life I can see too many mistakes.
  
  Its a new day and hopefully a day where anger doesn’t creep in to my life or yours.
  
  Oh, and I have never been in Milwaukee but I understand they brew a very fine beer there.
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  Posted in blogging., fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, memories, nonfiction, Philosophy, POET, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, unassigned, Uncategorized, Veterans, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged anger, blogging, thinking, Writing
- Battle Flag
  
  Posted at 5:59 am by Gordon, on December 22, 2016
  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
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  Posted in blogging., death, memories, Military, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, unassigned, Uncategorized, Veterans, Vietnam, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Death, Gordon Kuhn, Poet, Poetry, Poets, War, writers, Writing
- VETERAN!
  
  Posted at 6:11 am by Gordon, on November 11, 2015
  Copyright by Gordon Kuhn 11/10/2015
  
  On this day the United States Marine Corps is 240 years old. I and other Marines all celebrate today worldwide.
  
  Veteran!
  
  Three simple syllables. Yet, one of the most powerful words in our lexicon. One of the most meaningful. It identifies the person so called as having a place in history. They left behind family and friends and stepped into the breach risking their lives for the protection of others and the freedoms we all share.
  
  Veteran!
  
  The word, the label, if you wish, transcends the ages, and more. It does not discriminate over sex. It does not look at cultural heritage. It cares not for your religion or political beliefs. It does not care if you were in one branch of service over another. It does not measure your service based on the tasks you were assigned. It does not care if you were drafted or joined as a volunteer. It only cares that you stood and took an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States.
  
  Veteran!
  
  A simple word that identifies the person so honored as called as being a part of history. Each one has stories unique to the time and locations of where they served. Each left family and friends behind and stepped forward into the breach risking their lives for the protection of others and for the freedoms we all share.
  
  Veteran!
  
  ———————————————————————————————
  
  Copyright 11/10/2015 by Gordon Kuhn
  
  Veteran
  
  You stood your watch and honored are
  
  Now feel the breath of history brush across your face
  
  Here the voices of those who went before you
  
  And those who came after whisper your name
  
  You who left your family and friends behind
  
  And stepped forward to protect them
  
  Drafted or joined
  
  You faced loneliness
  
  You witnessed violence
  
  And felt the cold sense of fear
  
  And you stood your watches
  
  Regardless of where you were
  
  Or the time of day
  
  Or the weather that surrounded you
  
  In daylight or night, warm or cold, dry or chilled by rain
  
  You kept your orders regardless of the pain
  
  It matters not what sex you are
  
  Nor the color of your skin
  
  It matters not what religion you take comfort in
  
  Or, perhaps, none at all
  
  It doesn’t matter what task you were assigned
  
  From clerk to rifleman, to sailor, or in the sky
  
  You stood your ground for freedom and for family
  
  You stood your watch, and honored are
  
  And honor laid upon you the title: Veteran
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  Posted in Literary Arts, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Poetry, Poets, War, Writing
- DAN ANDERS
  
  Posted at 12:29 am by Gordon, on May 7, 2015
  I lost a good friend on Wednesday, 5/6/15. His name was Dan Anders. He was a Vietnam Vet. He died at 1420 hours about 5 to 10 minutes after I walked out of his room. I had spent over an hour visiting with him and his wife. He had pancreatic cancer. He was in the hospice unit of C. W. Bill Young’s VA hospital located at Bay Pines.
  
  Dan was unique. He is the only person known to have lived following being exposed to anthrax. The National Institute of Health had been following him for several years after it was discovered that he had been exposed and survived. His pancreatic cancer was a surprise to everyone. Only a little over a month back he was told he had 7 to 9 months to live. Then less than two weeks later it was reduced to 3 months. Then a week later it was down to 3 weeks. He leaves a wife and a daughter. He also leaves a group of friends, vets and non-vets. He was an avid hunter and loved the outdoors. He will be buried in a family cemetery next to the woods he roamed as a young man.
  
  He’ll be missed.
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  Posted in Poetry, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, Writing | 2 Comments | Tagged blogging, Death, Life, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- Dan On Friday
  
  Posted at 2:26 am by Gordon, on May 3, 2015
  I saw Dan on Friday. I saw him and met his wife and daughter at the VA hospital at Bay Pines. He is in the hospice unit. That unit is unique because the people working there volunteer to be there. They are not assigned. Each has personal reasons for being there. It is an incredibly loving facility and filled with a respect that in overwhelming. An Army veteran working there delivered some fresh water and juice and, just prior to leaving the room, snapped to attention and saluted Dan. It was a crisp snap of salute. No words. No smiles. Just professional military respect for another vet.
  
  They had a poster on the wall, a certificate made out to Dan. They had beads made of the same colors as the ribbon that all Vietnam Vets know and recognize for having served in Vietnam. Vietnam still holds emotional content that the average person will never understand. Never. We sometimes will tell the uninitiated that it is a “Nam thing” to try to best explain words or looks between vets.
  
  The beads were delivered in a ceremony that will bring tears. The beads are put together by a Vietnam Vet and delivered by a Vietnam Vet to a Vietnam Vet. I have beads. They were given to me by a combat Vietnam Nurse that had worked on the unit and when she did it hit me hard. She was well-known for walking up to VN Vets that she found even in the elevator and doing the ceremony while giving them the beads.
  
  Dan was in bed. His wife on the left and his daughter had just left the room when I walked in. They had warned me that he did not look like he had as his illness was taking its toll. Dan was in and out of it. I knew he was an avid hunter but did not know he hunted not only with rifle but with bow and with muzzle loader. He was an avid outdoorsman. They said he will be buried in an old cemetery up north and the grave will be close to the woods he so loved.
  
  Dan is an Air Force Vet. Dan holds a purple heart. Dan survived a brain injury. Dan survived exposure to anthrax. Dan has a daughter, a wife, and a group of Vietnam Vets that love him and will miss him. Dan was a friend.
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  Posted in Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, hospice, Life, Poetry, Poets, Purple Heart, Writing
- Second Followup on Dan.
  
  Posted at 3:18 am by Gordon, on May 1, 2015
  I learned just a few days ago that Dan had originally been given six to nine months. That was only a month back. Then the time was shortened to three months. Sadly, on Tuesday this week, Gina called to tell me that Dan was in the VA hospital and had been given three weeks to live.
  
  How can this be?
  
  This is a man who survived being exposed to Anthrax and has been followed by the Centers for Disease Control following that discovery. That federal department and the VA have tested him over and over again. They have gone from the top to the bottom of the man and then done it again on several occasions. How can it be that no one discovered the cancer destroying his pancreas and how is it that it is so extremely fast-moving.
  
  There comes no answers.
  
  I will visit with him tomorrow at Bay Pines. It may be the last visit that I have with him. I will sadly meet his wife and daughter for the first time. Both have had recent medical conditions that have caused pain and concern for their own lives and now they face the loss of the man who has helped them through their own problems and there is nothing to do but watch him be destroyed by a cancer that suddenly appeared. And no one has an answer. No one.
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  Posted in death, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD | 1 Comment | Tagged blogging, Death, The VA, Writing
- Thanksgiving!
  
  Posted at 5:32 am by Gordon, on November 27, 2014
  Good morning, afternoon, evening!….I have a lot of followers from all over the world. Some of you may be celebrating Thanksgiving and some of you may not. Even so, I wanted to write you and say thank you for following this site. I have over 700 people following this site. That is quite a lot and I am honored to have you here
  
  As a writer, I need to have people read what I write. Without you I am just someone sitting at a computer wasting time.
  
  You are what is important to me individually and collectively. You power my day and my nights. Knowing you are there keeps me interested in what I do and hoping that what I do gives you pleasure. Otherwise, why do it.
  
  So, regardless of what you are doing this day or this night when you read this, regardless of where you are; I want you to know that I am glad you are out there and I want to hear from you. I also am inviting you to my new site. And, I want you to please subscribe there and make comment to me. I need your support and I need your input into what I am doing. So, don’t be shy. Thanks again, Gordon.
  
  My new blog and bookstore is located at http://www.authorgordonkuhn.com
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Interviews, Literary Arts, narrative nonfiction, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Health, humor, Life, Writing
- WHEN I WAS YOUNG — ONE
  
  Posted at 8:27 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2013
  WHEN I WAS YOUNG — ONE
  Copyright 2013 Gordon Kuhn
  All rights reserved.
  
  When I was young,
  I once ran naked into the sea,
  And swam as far as I could swim,
  Almost drowned! But I was young.
  And that was then.
  
  When I was young,
  I drank a lot of beer,
  And held in my pee,
  Until the drinking was long done.
  But that was then, how silly of me.
  
  When I was young,
  I loved the open sea,
  And fell asleep one mindless, youthful day
  And was burned as burned could ever be.
  I was young, and oh so foolish back then.
  
  When I was young,
  And most immature,
  I hooked onto the world
  And ran towards the sun.
  But that was way back then.
  
  When I was young,
  I helped pick up the remains of those
  Left laying in the dirt, once upon a day,
  And drank that night to forget the sight.
  When I was young and unafraid.
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  Posted in death, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged Depression, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- DEPRESSION 101
  
  Posted at 8:56 am by Gordon, on October 12, 2013
  DEPRESSION 101
  Copyright 2013 Gordon Kuhn
  All Rights Reserved
  U Toucha My Poem I Breaka U Face
  
  Depression comes to visit and
  Finds me sleeping on the floor
  On the floor near the door
  Sleeping on the floor near the door
  A pillowed blanket colored sand
  In the bedroom by the bed
  Where such dreams I find I’m fed
  To show past terrors I am led
  And depression slips in without notice
  Slips in without warning forming
  Deep into my head,
  My mind conforming
  It found and easily opened an unlocked door
  And led me through the flowers there
  To outskirts of dismal country spread
  The dread of failing at my task
  Was the doorway into my sleeping head
  And there I lay and dream of dead
  Until I wake in sweat of dread. 10/12/13
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  Posted in Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged Depression, Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Nightmares, Poetry, Poets, Writing
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Category: Post Traumatic Disorder

Posted at 3:37 pm by Gordon, on June 30, 2018

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Posted at 2:37 am by Gordon, on May 25, 2017

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Posted at 5:59 am by Gordon, on December 22, 2016

Battle Flag

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Posted at 6:11 am by Gordon, on November 11, 2015

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Posted at 12:29 am by Gordon, on May 7, 2015

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Posted at 2:26 am by Gordon, on May 3, 2015

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Posted at 3:18 am by Gordon, on May 1, 2015

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Posted at 5:32 am by Gordon, on November 27, 2014

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Posted at 8:27 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2013

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Posted at 8:56 am by Gordon, on October 12, 2013

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