Standoff Excerpt: By the Side of the Road


By the Side of the Road

Little boy standin’ by the side of the road,

Lookin’ down beside hisself in the gutter at a dirty old toad,

What was sittin’ there all covered in dust with its eyes slowly flickin’

Looking for lunch, the boy, he did so suppose,

A guest to share the moment the frog surely did propose,

some fly, might be, for itself to go on chewin’ and lickin’,

Snatch that movin’ black spot clean outta the sky.

The little boy wondered what it would be like to die,

All caught up in a gooey tangle of tongue curlin’ there and stickin’

Like a June bug buzzin’ past fat and sassy like,

Not knowin’ that old bull frog was about to strike

Or maybe a crawler with its legs all a kickin’.

What matters most, I do suppose, is what the kid wasn’t thinkin’

Why did he feel such a sense of bein’ so old

Standin’ there all by hisself by the side of the road?

STANDOFF EXCERPT 9.12.19


Walking with a Dead Butterfly

Come fly away now gentle butterfly

Open your wings and capture a breath of wind

Set sail and say goodbye to the world below

Let not your heart in pain deny

Your right to sail the summer sky

For you are special, my valiant friend

You’ve come so far in life in so few days

And changed your coat of moldy gray

To joyfully spread rainbow colors in patterns rich

While sharing your beauty in wild, tumultuous flight

So short your life has come and gone

Come dance with me as I watch you twist and spin

Until your energy has been spent and you start to fail and fall

As you struggle with the pending doorway of death

No matter where you could have landed in the end

You somehow fell to earth beside the path

That I was silently walking there upon.

Clay Pots

How like shattered clay pots

They were when seen from close at hand

Clay pots fresh from the kiln that day

Broken when each mold was cast upon the cold

That lingered where the air was fresh and clean

And seen from heights where eagles dare soared

When they were sudden sent away amid the roar

Of surf spray that clutched the hand of sand

And layered about in nameless lots

Slowly became a collection of shrinking tired dots

Spread loosely upon the blue above the fading land

There floated they then above the heavy depth of sea

In all their fractured banquet were then to death led and bled

When thought the world had set them free

Above the green and sleeping spaces where Sightless watchers looked and not one was really seen      

Ragdoll Man C-2


MUSIC FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO WHILE YOU READ
———————————————————————————-

And so, alone in the glen, but unaware of the world beyond where he sat, he searched through the rags hoping to find another such as he hiding there in the maze of color and thread. But he found little that appeared to be quite like him. No, you see none such as he could he find in the pile of cloth he had discovered himself to have been born from, if born you could say as there was no one there other than the Ragdoll Man.

No. Nothing else, no mother or father appeared to be. No sister or brother. Although he would not have recognized such as that for, he was not educated in such, you see. And, so the Ragdoll Man stopped searching through the pile and, not knowing what to do, sat quite still for there was nothing to do but just to sit quite still and so that is what he did — he sat very, very still.

And then, as wonders could ever take place, amid his sitting quietly a miracle occurred.  Well, I suppose you could say it was a miracle and, maybe it was, if you understand that miracles are such and this certainly seemed to be such — that is — a miracle

The Ragman Files E – 1


There once was a man who saved rag dolls, he saved them as he felt their lives were doomed, and yet, the reality was that he himself was a rag doll. As time went on the neighbors began to call him The Ragdoll Man.

MUSIC FOR READING

He had been born alone in a magical glen frequented by gypsies and elves and other such magical folk. His mother and father had been a pile of variously colored rags left by accident alongside a deeply rutted wagon trail that cut a path across the glen. As he sat there, alone, he looked about himself and at the remaining rags not part of his being and wondered at it all. He had no knowledge of who or what he was or how he had come to be. He had no knowledge of gypsies, or elves, or any of the creatures who lived in the surrounding woods or who flew in the sky. He had no idea of what it was to be alone. He simply was.

This is the opening. More to follow.

Simply hit the button on the left and listen to the music.

The Gospel Hour


The Gospel of Micah, AKA the Gospel of Enoch. Micah was a goat herder on a planet known to us as Heaven. He was a simple man but became prominent in the politics of religion when he challenged the idea that the earth was flat. “It’s not,” he spoke up in a class he was taking on Goat Herding that was required of all goat herders. “It is curved, like a woman’s breast, but not soft, hard as concrete.” 6.23.19 Copyright Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain.

With apologies to the Mormons: And it came to pass that Micah was summoned forth to meet the highest council having been through the lower courts to argue that the earth was round. “You still claim the earth is round?” An aged sage sat forward and waved his cane in the goat herders face. But Micah held his ground despite the waving rod thrust up against his nose.”Excuse me, sir, but yes, it is round.” The council sat back and were grave all around. “But don’t you understand that we’ve been teaching humans for centuries that the place is flat? Then you come along and wish it to be known that this place, this Earth is round? I say to my brothers on the council, are we not in motion to send the herder down to the planet in banishment?” Whereupon God’s younger brother Phil entered the central room and to all did astound. “I am here to speak on the goat herder’s behalf.” A murmur did raise among those in the hall and one said, “I thought he had been banished or…..or locked up somewhere.” But Phil stood forth with an askew grin, “No, I have escaped and come to stand before you this day. For surely this herder, this gentleman who tends our sheep and smells like them needs defense from such plotting here.”

Where did the year go?


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

A CAST OF ELVIS


A CAST OF ELVIS

It was early in the morning
Before the sun had chosen to rise
While in the West there was reported the coming of a storm
For the clouds were stacked up to the top of the sullen sky
Thunderheads stood out in darkness forming
Telling a sleepy paperboy to carry a slicker in his backpack
Flashes of electricity free-formed in their announcement
While the church bells proclaimed early communion
As the priests in robes of silk left their hidden dorm
Down the street above where the butchers cut up fresh meat
And one of their number walked briskly along
A hidden pair of still warm panties gathered and out of sight
Tucked in the folds of his blessed priestly cloth
An overnight present from a grateful parish member
Given freely for blessings and release from her sins
But it was the early rising newspaper vendors that set off the alarm
That Elvis was dead!
And so the lines to meet him would be shorter later that day
But curiosity was peaked about the bathroom floor
And so, the restaurant cast a statute of the man to be blistered by the sun
As it sat upon a bench with an open arm to fit around a fan
It was covered with bird shit during the day
And then stood waiting for the coolness that would come with the rising moon
While wishing for rain to wash the bird slime into the gutter towards the sea
And in the dark of the secret time
The statues in the park would be set free to dance around in glee
While others found a need to kneel and pray.

10/17/18 Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn Poet in the Rain All Rights Reserved

Walking with a Dead Butterfly


Walking with a Dead Butterfly

Come fly away now gentle butterfly
Open your wings and capture a breath of wind
Set sail and say goodbye to the world below
Let not your heart in pain deny
Your right to sail the summer sky
For you are special, my valiant friend
You’ve come so far in life in so few days
And changed your coat of moldy gray
To joyfully spread rainbow colors in patterns rich
While sharing your beauty in wild, tumultuous flight
So short your life has come and gone
Come dance with me as I watch you twist and spin
Until your energy has been spent and you start to fail and fall
As you struggle with the pending doorway of death
No matter where you could have landed in the end
You somehow fell to earth beside the path
That I was silently walking there upon.

Priestly Arrives —- Ragdoll Chronicles. 1.25.18


Ragdoll Chronicles 01.25.18
“Throw him down the chute!” The five merged on Chase who was trying to get out what appeared to be the front door but it was in fact a door to nowhere. The storm he had ventured through and from which he had sought refuge by entering the restaurant was not visible through the glass——actually, nothing was. The door was locked and on the other side of the glass it was just like a giant fog had settled in blocking everything out from view.
Just as they were about to grab Chase, a mist formed in the room and when they all turned to see what was the cause they found a massive crow that stood as tall and as broad as any of them present.
“What the hell?” the raccoon shouted. “Where did that come from?”
The crow looked around himself. “Where is the pond? Where is the glen?” He stepped towards the others who were backing up to avoid contact with the bird’s sharp beak.
“Who are you?” the mouse asked while trying to hide behind the orangutan.
“Priestly,” the crow replied stiffening up quite regally. “And who might you be?”
“This has to be Runa’s doing,” the brown bear said looking around the room nervously. “We need to get clear of this or we will be sucked into this mess as well.”
“I say we toss both of them down the chute,” suggested the mouse trying his best to not be seen by the crow. “We need to get shut of this before the inspectors arrive.”
“Inspectors?” the crow asked surveying the room while stepping closer to the five who were doing their best to find an avenue of escape, but the crow, as large as it was, blocked them and held them there with the boy shoved up against the wall behind them.
“Let me go,” the boy shouted, but his voice was muffled as he was slightly compressed behind the brown bear who was pushing the mouse forward almost as an offering. The mouse, of course, was squealing with complaint and trying to get back behind everyone including Chase.
It was then that Priestly discovered a part of the ribbons that had been Nouveau were wrapped around his left leg—and, he heard a muffled voice. As a matter of fact, they all heard it but couldn’t make out what was being said and so they all dismissed it until the mouse took note that wherever Priestly walked the ribbon that was wrapped around his leg extended back to the point on the floor where he had appeared and it then disappeared into a slowly forming pool of water there on the floor.

The Restaurant: Ragdoll Chronicles 1.15.18


Ragdoll Chronicles 01.15.18
“Throw him down the chute!” The five merged on Chase who was trying to get out what appeared to be the front door but was in fact a door to nowhere. The storm he had come through was not visible through the glass, nothing was. Just as they were about to grab him a mist formed in the room and when they all turned to see what was the cause they found a crow that stood as tall and as broad as any of them present.
“What the hell?” the raccoon shouted. “Where did that come from?”
The crow looked around himself. “Where is the pond? Where is the glen?” He stepped towards the others who were backing up to avoid contact with the bird’s sharp beak.
“Who are you?” the mouse asked while trying to hide behind the orangutan.
“Priestly,” the crow replied stiffening up quite regally. “Andy who might you be?”
“This has to be Runa’s doing,” the brown bear said. “We need to get clear of this or we will be sucked into this mess as well.”
“I say we toss both of them down the chute,” suggested the mouse trying his best to not be seen by the crow. “We need to get shut of this before the inspectors arrive.”
“Inspectors?” the crow asked while stepping closer to the five who were doing their best to find an avenue of escape, but the crow, as large as it was, blocked them and held them there with the boy shoved up against the wall behind them.