THE VISITOR


The Visitor

She came in the still dark of night
Silent, gentle, and turned off the tabled light
Leaving the apartment in a soft and low-level glow
From the moon creeping in thru a blanketed cloud
Peering thru grime swathed window panes allowed
Casting shadows dancing on paint thirsty aged walls
That overtime had seen good and bad life calls
Soaking up the laughter, anger, and the tears
And she slipped in and out of her clothes there
Lit a cigarette and offered it up to share
It glowed and lit her face as she took a strong draw
Her beauty was in that room and was all that I saw
While the moonlight swaddled us all around
Outdoors the rain began to pound the ground
We sat locked in stillness and listened to the rain
Where in the naked quiet that surrounded us, we shared our pain
And, in truth, I never knew her name.

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Rain Drops


RAINDROPS

Bumble Bee sized drops
Falling with thunder sized hits
Striking the broad leaves of green bent
Beneath the sudden strikes from the sky sent
Forcing them to bow before the growing deluge
Lightning striking a short distance away
The laughter of the rain as it slips and falls to the ground
And I stand there listening and smelling the scent of a summer rain
As it comes in the heat and washes away the dirty stain
That darkens the pavement and the sidewalks left earlier in the day
By life passing by.

Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn

A Soft Tapping in Darkness Came


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

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.

Chase Seeks Refuge from the Rain. 01.10.2018 @ 0312


Denise staggered to the front door in a daze. She turned the knob and the wind flung the door free of her grip.
“Jesus!” Robert stepped inside, his face contorted with anger and concern. “Where is the boy?” He grabbed his former wife by her shoulders. “How could you let this happen?”

“I had no way to stop it,” Denise went limp in his grip. “She came and went so fast I didn’t have time to react to her. I never expected her to—“

“That’s the problem; you never expected anything, not from me, not from her, from Chase, from anybody and know we are forced into a corner.”

“What are we going to do?”

“What I should have done years ago. Find her, get Chase back, and then kill her.”

“What are you nuts?” Denise turned on him with anger, spit flying. “You can’t kill her.” She pushed him away. “She has been alive for centuries and you think you, Mr. Robert Langdon, the famous do-nothing drunk from Havinerty Township can kill her?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll not shut up. Just what the fuck are you thinking?” Denise wrapped her arms about herself and closed the front door. “You think you can just walk up and kill her?” She threw her arms up in the air. “How the fuck do you know she’s not here now and listening to you? You don’t, do you, dumb ass?”

“Well—” he started unsure of what to say and then added angrily, “Well, I don’t know what else to do. We have to get Chase back and the only way we can do that is to kill her.”

Denise walked into her kitchen and sat down at the table burying her face in her hands. “You can’t kill her,” her voice was muffled. She sat back and looking at Robert shook her head. “Do you hear me? Even if you could, and you and I both know you can’t do it. You can’t kill her.”

“Why?”

“He’ll never forgive you.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

Denise stood and went to the stove where a coffee pot sat warming on the flames. “You know he’ll know it and you will cause such a stir in her world that they will come and take him and God knows what they will do to us. Even if you could somehow kill her and I don’t think it’s possible.” She poured herself a cup and stared at the stove while stirring in creamer, her hands trembling.

“There has to be away.”

“He’s her son,” Denise said softly with tears running down her face. “There is nothing we can do.” A hand swept the trail of water from her cheeks. She sighed and lifted the cup to her lips. Robert stood behind her. There was nothing he could think of to say, but he knew, he knew it was true.

Finally he put his hands on Denise’s shoulders from behind. “Maybe,” he began, “maybe she doesn’t have him. Maybe he ran out and….and had gone someplace to hide. It’s a shot.”

“Uh huh,” Denise said and lowered her head. “She’s got him.”

“Not necessarily. Look, give me time, an hour, before you start any incantations, and let me go look.”

A tremendous flash of light lit up the whole house inside followed by a roll of thunder that shook everything.

“She knows,” Denise said. “She knows but maybe you are right, maybe she doesn’t have him.” She turned and faced Robert. “Go, now, I’ll wait.”

But Robert was already at the door. “That lightning bolt told me she doesn’t have him. I think I know where he’s at.” With that he was out the door and into the rain which suddenly had grown more violent.
=================================================================

The Pond: Ragdoll Chronicles Cont. 1.9.2018 at 0315


“Nouveau!” the entire Murder of Crows called out. Some took to the air to scan the surrounding area as the Clowder of Cats spread out also searching.

Cawkin stood still as all about him searchers called out to the Rag Man. “The Gypsy Girl,” he turned to Starter. “Did anyone get her name?”

“Yes,” Starter replied. “And you aren’t going to like it I’m afraid.”

Cawkin stepped up to stand in front of Starter. “Is it,” he hesitated, “Runa?”

Starter moved in closer to Cawkin to conceal his voice, “Yes. I recognized her from the air, but—”

“Shit,” Cawkin kicked at the earth with his right foot. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well—uh—I didn’t think it mattered just then.”

“Mattered? Runa didn’t matter?”

“I found some rags,” a voice called out.

Cawkin stared into Starter’s eyes. “Please tell me that they are not going to where the pond used to be.”

Before Starter could answer a startled collection of voices called out to one another, “Where’d this pond come from?”

“I don’t recall this pond being here before,” someone said from on wing above.

“Nor the river. Look at how blue and clear the pond is.”

Cawkin turned as did Starter and both shouted, “Stay away from the pond.” But it was too late, several had moved to within a few yards of the sparkling yellow sand that surrounded it.

“The ground here is very warm and I hear bells,” the closest crow called to its wing-mates.

“There are rags in the water,” another crow called out.

“And over here on the bank,” another responded.

Aleen; The Ragdoll Chronicles 01.08.2018


01.08.18 Ragdoll Chronicles Cont.

He sat up high on the hill above the city of Ilandia His six foot wingspan had been closed and wrapped securely around him more for warmth than stealth and concealment. He sat alone, disliking being near the others who were mostly newlings out for their first hunt and kill mission. They were all several hundred feet below him babbling about how lucky they had been too fly with such a master.

“Master,” he snarled to himself after overhearing one of their comments. “What do they know of Masters. They are too young to know the virtues of such as Anloch the Strong who took out a thousand Betweens on a day many called ‘Judgement Day.'” He snorted and tightened the grip of his wings upon his body.
“Still strong,” he looked down at himself, at the muscle structure of his arms. “After all these years, still strong,” he sniffed in pleasure and recalled his first mission.

“They are missionaries, not unlike us, but of different beliefs and that is the danger,” Anloch had said in a snarl, his gargoyle like face close to Aleen’s. “Kill them swiftly, little one. Surprise those of your kind larger than you. Surprise them at your strength and keep in mind,” his voice dropped low and his lips touched Aleen’s ear, “there will come a day when you will have to those you serve as well. And, yes,” the others voice was close in his ear and he could feel the hot breath on his neck, “there will come a time when you may even have to kill me.”

Aleen stiffened at the thought and then remembered watching Anloch struggle as surprise swept over the other’s face and he grabbed for the open wound on his throat trying to stop the spray of blood as it rushed up and out from the fatal slash Aleen had provided him. Aleen had stepped back from his master as the teacher died before him struggling to grab Aleen just as he turned and with a jump was airborne and slipping into the night sky. “Traitor,” Anloch shouted, his voice bubbling from the rush of blood ,and then Aleen’s teacher, guide, his best friend, died from the mortal wound Aleen had delivered.

Ragdoll Chronicles qouted on 1.6.18 at 0250


“There shall come a time when the moon has gone from sight and the sun is darkened as if in clouds. Then shall those who have slept for centuries return to take the land and the power from those who have come to be here and subjugate them with powers granted them by the master of hell.” Verse 18, 12th Chapter of the hidden book Ascension.

Ragdoll Chronicles at 0250 on 1.6.18