rabbit tears – run rabbit run


Chapter one: How do I love thee, let me count thy bruises.

He stood in front of her rubbing the knuckles on his right hand staring down at her where she sat on a wooden chair in front of him. He growled as she reached up to where blood trickled from the bruised flesh below her right eye. Touched it, saw the blood, then lowering her arms clasped her hands in front of her on her lap. Slowly she looked up at him with tears racing down to her chin. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he voice trembled. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The year was 1926. She was just 19 and he was 27.

He slapped her hard jerking her head to the left. She slowly recovered. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So, my mother and sister are liars?” Blood stood against the vows of marriage. Sometimes blood is stronger, and in this case it was. “They saw you at the theater”

“No,” her voice wavered, “no they, if anyone it was Virginia and all I did was acknowledge an old school friend.”

“Who you then went into the movies with.”

“He had his girlfriend with him”

“You sat with him.”

“I sat with them, not with him,” she said her face hurting her badly. Her tongue slipped sideways and found a tooth had been dislodged.

**********************

Bacon and eggs and coffee, please.


So, there you have it. Breakfast in a world where many have nothing to eat and there are those who blame us for that tragedy and yet the “old world” was established for a very long time and mostly lives in pre-Christian  terms. America became independent, went to work, used capitalism, not socialism or communism and definitely not under a dictatorship government to get to be where we are today. Yet, there are those who want to toss all that away out of fear that someone might come along and kill them. Well, get real people, there are people out there that will kill you just because that is the goal and sucking up to them isn’t going to save your ass but challenging them and fighting for what we have here will at least give us a chance. If you believe that socialism or communism is great then for goodness sakes don’t let the door smack you in the ass going to where those economies are. You want to live in a dust bowl with killers running around then go, but please don’t expect everyone else to follow your hysteria while you drop your drawers so you can be violated by thugs.

Dinner With Diane Brinker


Jan and I were very fortunate to have as a dinner guest yesterday evening Diane Brinker who was one of  the eight sisters of Kathleen Briles. There were 9 girls and 2 boys. Diane shared a lot of details with us and it was a pure blessing to simply be able to sit and talk with her. In some ways, having conversations with her and others, the people in these stories become family to me as I ride along listening to the fun days and the sad days. It is so sad to me to meet them with all this pain brought about by one person, and the tragedy is that Kathleen would not have died if the FBI had not failed to keep their computer data base up to date. Diane shared photos of her sister and her family with us. It was a wonderful evening but so tragically  brought about. It leaves me with a major responsibility to write Nightmare in Terra Ceia with as much sensitivity as I can muster.

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.

Yesterday Was My Birthday


Yesterday was my birthday. It was not a significant day for me. Nothing stood out. There was no “wow” factor. For me it was just another day. But for my wife, and my friends, it held a different meaning. Oddly no one actually asked me how old I am. Perhaps that was out of politeness. Perhaps, like me, they recognize that in life everything is moving forward. So on the day before yesterday I was one day shy of being fully the age I reportedly became at the hour and minute of my birth so many years before. Then, I have to say that today I am the age I was yesterday plus one day. I find that atrociously simple and yet complex in a mutually beneficial manner. It occurs to me that we begin the countdown on life when the baby is reported to have exited the mother’s womb. The record will continue until, quite simply, we die. It’s how we count the days and years. I suppose in some small way it all makes sense. I mean, it’s absolutely necessary that it makes sense for some. I don’t know if I fall within those ranks. I might. But I seriously don’t know.

What I do know is that advancing to another age, a plateau in life,  is something we cannot prevent. I find it curious to have friends who lament the passing of the years. I’m not so concerned about the years as I am the activities that occurred within those years. I’m sure that we all have moments where we examine ourselves and in many cases are not happy about what we find there. At least that is how it is with me.
I have determined that over the course of my life I have been very self-destructive at times. Perhaps I was programmed that way by the very people who should have been supporting me and telling me that I could achieve all that I want in this life by working hard. Instead I recall being an 11-year-old child riding in my parents car with my father driving and we passed an area made up of beautiful homes that had smaller, yet still opulent, side homes for guests or for family members. I can recall saying to them that one day I would be successful and I would own one of those homes and the building that was a smaller house would become their home and it would be paid for totally by me. Instead of a simple positive response from both my parents, one so desperately needed, the response was, “Sure. Your brothers said the same thing and neither one of them have accomplished that goal, so neither will you.”
So I truly believe that the programming was attached during that short conversation in which I, as a small child, reached out to the very people who should have been encouraging me, and found instead a belief that I was bound to fail. And, I believe, that I like so many others in the similar situations are doing everything we can to make certain that our parents were wrong and yet the programming, in many cases, was so strong we fail before we begin.
So my hat is off to those who try and fail and yet still fight the false images fed to them as children. Perhaps we are all winners in the end.

Sabrinauestions


Good morning on a kinda chilly Florida morning. I’ve not been outside so don’t know exactly  how chilly, but I think it’s chilly because I’m feeling that way and I’m not fully awake yet either so who knows what I might wander off into this morning.

Okay, that being said, or written, let me get serious for a moment. I have a new follower: Sabrina.

Sabrina asks some serious questions and can be found at:

https://sabrinaanblog.wordpress.com/2015/01/31/am-i-that-woman/

I think that here remarks at that location apply equally to men and to women, so those of us who are male should not be put off because she is making remarks which tend to be more concerned with being female than male. Wow, could I have written a better messed up sentence than that? I told you I wasn’t awake yet.

Anywho, as a friend of mine used to say, I think Sabrina tends to looking at herself and others in an honest way and she is asking of others to comment on some issues in which she claims that she tends to get in her own way……WOW….have I ever been there??? How about once or twice (maybe three or four times) a day!

So, Sabrina, who have asked for comments and I am asking those who follow me to go and look and see if they have similar thoughts like yours (you know we all do…except the sociopaths among us…or is that … amongst us?). Darn, now something else to worry about this morning.

https://sabrinaanblog.wordpress.com/2014/11/19/being-thankful/

 

aurorawatcherak


Aurorawatcherak is really Lela Markham in disguise. She is someone with strong beliefs but not to the extent that she will not carry on a discussion. She grew up in a family with her father being liberal and her mother conservative and so she listened and she learned from both.

She writes about herself: ” I’ve “evolved” politically as I’ve grown spiritually and intellectually. In other words, I think and I learn.”

You can learn much more about her at:

http://en.gravatar.com/aurorawatcherak

and:

https://aurorawatcherak.wordpress.com/2015/01/01/are-you-a-racist/

You can find some interesting reading there.

And then there is this:

https://aurorawatcherak.wordpress.com/2014/03/26/degrees-of-dumb/

Okay, so that ought to keep you  busy and off the streets for …hmmm….. a few hours or days.

Kindness Blog…not for the faint at heart.


Okay, this is not for the faint at heart. This is a very serious site. I would advise for tissue and for a moment… no several moments set aside for thought.

The Love of a Mother and Her 3 Year-old Daughter, who Were Attacked With Acid by Their Husband/Father

This makes me go to the angry side of myself.

This is about brutality and it is about love. This, to me, is the raw evidence that the Muslim faith is not a faith of love and kindness but a brutal oppression of those who are the weakest among its society. But then we have the next view of life at:

A Beautiful Random Act of Kindness to a Stranger Was Photographed.

So, life is not as bad as it might be but for some who will extend a helping hand and umbrella while getting themselves soaked for the pleasure of knowing they helped another person and did not have to do it, weren’t paid, and didn’t ask for anything in return..

and then we have:

36 Things I Know After 36 Years of Marriage – by Winifred M. Reilly

So, there you have it. We move from horror to wonder. Where are you? Who are you? I am not sure where or who I am after these three tags.

New Followers


I would like to welcome envisionfuture who is now following this blog. I found no link to a website for them. I did find a twitter link:  @jklepack .

Next comes facetioussoup ….. yep this is an interesting one that I think is worth visiting at:

http://momentarylapseofsanity.com/about/

her profile says she is new at blogging…well, she might be but she is a great writer and expresses herself well. I like sites that are solid and … yes, maybe even blunt. She has a lot of emotion in her words and tells a story I think needs to be shared. So, go grasshoppers and see what she has to say about her life and, yes, about yours.

She writes: ” I am a widow of four boys. I am a veteran of the USAF. I am a medical laboratory technician. I have started my blog momentarylapseofsanity.com and I am having a lot of fun with it. I feel like my blog has given me purpose in life. I am a homeschooler as well we use Khan Academy. One thing is for sure I don’t take life for granted I have learned that it can be gone in the blink of an eye. My husband of 17 years died from Cardiomyopathy because he had a big heart. I am Croatian.”

And then there is Kristi S. Simpson  Kristi writes: ” I’ve been writing on and off for fifteen years, mostly off. I’m finally to a point where I can dedicate real time to it. I am currently working on a middle grade fantasy series. I’m new to blogging but learning quickly. I never know what I’m going to say next, so it’s probable that I’ll be just as surprised as everyone else at some of my posts.” You can find her at:

http://writerishramblings.com/about/

Another interesting site for those of you who are curious about saving money is   http://smartdiscountshop.com/about/ who also is now following me. Looks like lots of good ideas there. So, again, go take a look see, maybe there is something there for thee and most importantly to look is free….sorry, got on a roll there.

I know I have been lax on writing about those who have joined me here. I have been busy with many things, including setting up the blog:  www.authorgordonkuhn.com  which is where I also have three of my books for sale….actually, that is what it is, it is a place you can buy my books at and you can write wonderous reviews of them as well.

Unfortunately, so far no one has bought a book there. Everyone runs over to Amazon or Barnes and Noble but no one buys on at my store so I don’t even know if the damn shopping cart works! Hours and hours and days and days I spent on this site and …. well, I’ll just be calm, as my therapist said to me the other day, after a particularly explosive moment of anger at the VA, go sit in the waiting room and calm down. Let’s see, xanax is always good. Coffee and bourbon are even better. Ah well, perhaps I’ll go and write some poetry as I am in that spell.

The Passion

Do not follow in my footsteps

For I shall not be there when you arrive

To rest yourself upon the bed pillows

Wrapped in bedding soft and dry

Nor will you hear the mating sighs

To guide you on your way

Of those who join together in the darkness

Or in the early morning hours

Beneath the stars dimming in the drifting sky

Before the rising sun can mark your passage

By the tracks left in shifting sands

I shall not be where you think I lie

For my soul is tortured and in depth

The trail will fade and leave you there

Alone, alone as I softly pass you by.

Copyright: Gordon Kuhn, The Poet in the Rain Dec. 2014