Family | THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Tag: Family
- Where did the year go?
  
  Posted at 5:00 pm by Gordon, on December 23, 2018
  Another year moving into history. Seems strange. I am still in January.
  
  Well, for Jan and I it has been an up and down year with moving away and then moving back when we discovered that “friends” weren’t friends and that the VA doesn’t have the medical facilities in Georgia that we thought they had.
  
  So, here we are back in Florida with all of our friends and it is wonderful. The only sad thing is that my service dog Tread has a fungus in his hip and tail bone. No body knows how it got there and it is an expensive and long fight to save his life. We now have gone past $5,000 in expenses and have 5 months more of a fight to go. We do have wonderful help from our Vet and the Vets at the University of Georgia School of Veterinary Science. We are also fortunate in that we have medical insurance on him and that has reduced our cost significantly. BUT travel and motel rooms are not covered as is part of the medical. However, we are fortunate that we do have a lot covered and are very grateful for the folks at Healthy Paws.
  
  I have a newsletter at Constant Contact and if any of you wish to be a subscriber just send me you email to gkuhnwrites@aol.com
  
  In the meantime I am trying to find a literary agent for my true crime book: Nightmare in Terra Ceia.
  
  I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and I hope a wonderful New Year.
  
  Blessings! Gordon Kuhn
  
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  Posted in blogging., Crime, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Love, memories, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, novels, Poetry, true crime, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Family, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Life, NARRATIVE NONFICTION, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- CONTACTS 09.01.2017 A
  
  Posted at 11:28 am by Gordon, on September 1, 2017
  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
  
  ==============================
  
  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.
  
  ======================================
  
  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/
  
  ==========================
  
  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
  
  ==========================
  
  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.
  
  =========================
  
  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.
  
  ==============================
  
  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.
  
  ===========================
  
  Later more on Delmer Smith and the victims whose blood he shed.
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  Posted in blogging., Crime, death, Death Row in Florida, death sentence, Gordon Kuhn, home invasion, Humanity, Literary Arts, memories, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, novels, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, true crime, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Crime, Depression, Family, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Life, Literature, Love, Murder, NARRATIVE NONFICTION, Poet, Poetry, Poets, true crime, writers, Writing
- Beer Cans on the Counter and Random Thoughts at 0436 08.03.17
  
  Posted at 4:14 am by Gordon, on August 3, 2017
  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?
  
  ==========================================================
  
  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.
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  Posted in alcoholism, blogging., Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, nonfiction, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Society, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, death sentence, Depression, Family, Fiction, Life, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing
- Poem: Heartbeat at Night /// 8.1.17 A
  
  Posted at 6:50 am by Gordon, on August 1, 2017
  Heartbeat at Night
  
  by Gordon Kuhn
  Copyright 8.1.2017 all rights reserved.
  
  I stand alone in the steamy dark
  Listening to the sound my heart beat makes all alone
  and the other voices there never reply
  no matter how I call out their names and I fight and try
  to hear a voice, a single voice, come to me from out of the sky
  For I am all alone in the steamy night
  I speak to the dusk surrounding and there is no response
  My words echo back so lonely in the night
  I speak to the darkness surrounding and there is no response
  for living ghosts never show themselves in séance
  at least none that I have ever found
  and their voices never reply, and they, should they try?
  to be so earthly bred and bound a monument to the living
  no matter how much I speak and try and I cannot make it by
  listening for a single voice to be found, just one to speak to me
  as I stand all alone in the night, the steamy night and am so alone
  to hear a voice come out from the sky, to simply reach me before I die
  from those there standing so clearly in my sight
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  Posted in blogging., Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Depression, Family, Gordon Kuhn, Poets, silence, writers, Writing
- New Car and Other Random Thoughts
  
  Posted at 1:24 pm by Gordon, on July 27, 2017
  Have a new used car. Jumped into a 2016 Honda Odyssey EX-L. White with light interior. Sliding doors on the side and a power rear door. It has all the bells and whistles. It has a camera on the right side for making turns and the first time it came on I thought I had lost part of the car as I didn’t know it was there. Fast. Smooth. Not like the 2007 Chevy. PU truck that was my love and I planned on being buried in it. Alas, not to be. Too hard a ride to go to GA and other places and besides Tread, the German Shepard service dog was miserable and getting rebellious about getting in and out of the truck. Suzie, the Great Pyrenees had no problem. She was a love and I miss her and her brother, Sergio, and Tifton the little brown dog we found one Labor Day weekend driving through Tifton County in GA.
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  Posted in blogging., Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Family, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, Literature, Love, Military, Poetry, Poets, Relationships, Writing
- rabbit tears – run rabbit run
  
  Posted at 8:54 am by Gordon, on June 16, 2017
  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.
  
  **********************
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  Posted in blogging., Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, memories, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, novels, unassigned, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Family, Gordon Kuhn, narrative non-fiction, NARRATIVE NONFICTION, writers, Writing
- Bacon and eggs and coffee, please.
  
  Posted at 4:53 am by Gordon, on May 24, 2017
  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.
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  Posted in blogging., Gordon Kuhn, unassigned, Uncategorized, World View, Terrorism, economics, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Driving, Family, Home, Italy, News, Poetry, Video
- Dinner With Diane Brinker
  
  Posted at 3:18 am by Gordon, on February 19, 2017
  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.
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  Posted in blogging., Crime, death, Death Row in Florida, death sentence, Interviews, Literary Arts, Manatee County, murder, narrative nonfiction, nonfiction, Serial Killer, sociopaths, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Death, Family, Gordon Kuhn, NARRATIVE NONFICTION, writers, Writing
- Poem from Standoff: Bare
  
  Posted at 10:20 pm by Gordon, on December 14, 2016
  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.
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  Posted in blogging., fiction, Literary Arts, Love, memories, Poetry, PTSD, Serial Killer, serial murderers, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged Family, friends, Military, patience, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- Yesterday Was My Birthday
  
  Posted at 10:51 pm by Gordon, on August 24, 2016
  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.
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged Depression, failure, Family
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Tag: Family

Posted at 5:00 pm by Gordon, on December 23, 2018

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Posted at 11:28 am by Gordon, on September 1, 2017

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Posted at 4:14 am by Gordon, on August 3, 2017

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Posted at 6:50 am by Gordon, on August 1, 2017

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Posted at 1:24 pm by Gordon, on July 27, 2017

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Posted at 8:54 am by Gordon, on June 16, 2017

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Posted at 4:53 am by Gordon, on May 24, 2017

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Posted at 3:18 am by Gordon, on February 19, 2017

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Posted at 10:20 pm by Gordon, on December 14, 2016

BARE

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Posted at 10:51 pm by Gordon, on August 24, 2016

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