Will have the movers here this weekend to take back what we had delivered here a few months back. Good thing to find out in time the problems with moving here. Will be most happy to get back to our friends in Florida. Have a contract on the property and have an agreement on a lot of the equipment on the farm. Sad, but necessary. VA medical for me is virtually nonexistent here. All of our friends are in Florida. So, GA is not working out and selling everything here.
Good Wednesday to you all! For me it started with being startled out of my sleep. That was because I had a rough night and needed more sleep and my wife had to wake me because I had a breakfast meeting to go to. So, I changed the time and met a buddy about an hour later than normal. He is a former Army Medic that did two tours in Vietnam.
He had wanted to be a doctor. He joined the Army and requested training in field medical. He then did two tours as an airborne medic. He saw enough blood and gore to end his desire for being a medical doctor. He is loaded with PTSD. Sad, really, I think he would have been a good physician.
Jan and I are both tired from driving to and from Georgia. Just a long trip surrounded by idiots either driving too fast or too slow.
One thing I will never understand is that near the Florida/Georgia border their is activity by both the Florida Highway Patrol but on the Georgia side they are like a bee hive that has been whacked with a stick and the idiots on the highway just go flying along. Between the border and Tifton it is a good chance to see (on both sides N and S) five to six cars pulled over. One would think that would slow things down. The answer is NO they just go flying along oblivious to the stops.
We have a radar detector but always drive within the speed limit. I just don’t understand these other people. And then, you will occasionally see not just one cop car with a stop but two and three on one car. Now why would someone want to bring dope into either state. Stupid. They are waiting for you.
Anyway, that’s it for today. Tired. Already irritated a nephew who is anti-gun, anti-Catholic, anti-Irish, and anti-Jewish. So I shall retire into the sunshine. Until tomorrow.
Well, for starters, I woke to find the 10K going over the Skyway. Over 11,000 runners. WOW. It was on live from helicopters.
I also have still not gotten my results from my colonoscopy. I can’t believe it is taking this long to get information back.
I wrote two poems this morning and posted them to my network newsletter. I am looking to find a magazine or book publisher. I have over 300 pages of poems now collected that needs to be done something with.
I am doing my best to avoid politics these days. Not doing too well.
Nice morning out. Weather is just perfect. Need to get a shower and get started and to write some more. I need a true crime agent to help with publishing Nightmare in Terra Ceia. Anybody with any ideas?
Thinking about changing the theme on this site as well. I have seen some great bogs and I think this is a bit….dusty? old looking? I don’t know.
Anyway, will be back later.
NOTE: for those who wish to be on my newsletter list please write me at GKUHNWRITES@AOL.COM and send me your email address.
For those who want to buy a book? http://www.authorgordonkuhn.com for autographed copies. If you don’t want that then just go to Amazon and get a download. But an autographed book is much nicer.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org
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
It was five o’clock in the morning
And there’s rain upon the roof
It fell hard without any warning
When it swept down the road
Rushed up through the woods
Caught the grassy fields by surprise
The wind bent the bushes and the trees
Then all was strangely gone
And, for some reason, in the midst of it
I recalled ancient tales of Beowulf
I remembered his meeting with Grendel
A descendent of Abel’s killer, Cain
Then the death of the Hag
Who did her seductive best, but lost to his sword
Before a dragon felt the cold steel
Then the rains washed it all away
Nothing was left for me to ask to stay
Not at five in the morning
When the rain came and wet the roof
Falling hard without any warning
Sweeping down the road
Catching all by surprise
Bending the bushes, trees, and me
Then was strangely gone.
Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn 9.29.18
Retouch: I Recall.
It’s two o’clock in the morning
And I recall her lying nearby me
In the dark sweating there from our lovemaking
We came together in the long ago
Two lonely bar drunk new best friends
In a town so very far from here
It’s two o’clock in the morning
And I can smell her hair even now with its light perfume
As it was crushed up by my face
Curls so wet, soft and fragrant in the nighttime air
As she drew close in the dim light from a street light
At the corner where rain spattered on the cracked concrete
By the post near the ruts in the road
And the trash lying in the gutter nearby
A soft contented purr coming from deep within her
And we laid there sweating in the dark
Not knowing each other and yet in some way we did
Someway we were kin from mothers never met
Aglow from lovemaking in the middle of the night
And outside we could hear the cars on the rain-swept street
There was no air conditioning in that apartment
One bedroom, a kitchen, and old couch in the front room
And we never knew what we’d find in the hall in the morning
When we opened the door to the world
And we’d step over some drunk lost on his way home
But it’s just two o’clock in the morning
And we hear the stumbling, cursing coming from down the hall
As someone tries a key in the wrong door and then noisily slips to the floor
Too drunk to walk further and sleep claims another lost soul
And I recall the sweetness of her lying nearby
In the dark sweating and so tired we were wrapped together
Exhausted from our lovemaking with only the moon looking on
Peaking in from the window with the cracked glass and weathered frame
And the floor near the bed beneath the open window was wet from the rain
And the moon shining into the room at 2 o’clock in the morning
Was the only witness to our love as we lay there together in the moonlit dark
Too tired to talk, too tired to sleep, and out of beer
A crushed cigarette pack lying in the corner near an empty can
But I recall how we loved that night
And then parted as friends
Each going our separate ways
But I recall that night — I wonder, does she? — Wherever she is?
Does she ever recall at two o’clock in the morning how we loved
How we loved thru that thunder and lightning packed summer storm
And we laid in our passion covered with sweat and out of beer gone hot
As the refrigerator in that apartment didn’t work
But it didn’t matter, not in the passion we shared
And the beer was gone and the cigarette pack was empty on the floor
Bed sheets pulled free and lying in a heap about us
Our bodies naked and gleaming with the wet of love making
In the moonlit dark of night with a street light shining lightly in
Does she recall?
It was two o’clock in the morning and I loved her
Whoever she was — sadly I don’t recall her name.
Copyright Gordon Kuhn
Another morning has come to greet the sun
Chasing the night away as coffee brews on the stove
A cup with spoon to swirl the cream in to blend the clouds away
As I sit and think of questions that I cannot even form
I wonder about the woman down the street who lives alone
In a home being foreclosed on even as the year has come full circle
Her son is college stuff and flunking out as he goes to class
Neighborhood children run barefoot laughing as they pass
At my comment of concern for nails and rocks and wiggly worms while
The Church of the Holy Hypodermic will ring its chimes
At dawn, lunch, and dinner time, a mile away as I listen and decide
That the ringing bells are as lonely in their song
As is the old man in the darkened corner house
Alone, staring at a wall, waiting in silence for his time to die. 2/18/2015
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.
THE DRUNK ON THE CORNER IS
Copyright 4.15.18 by Gordon Kuhn all rights reserved.
The holy drunk on the corner is
As holy as the Pope who drinks wine
And who represents a group with a history of crime
That turned its back on the Jews and friended Hitler
The holy drunk on the corner is
As holy as the holy father in his lofty mansion
Protected by an armed security
And who is worshiped in life and will be in death
As the only voice of God here on this earth
Except for the drunk castaway lying at the corner
Who in his drunkenness is holier that the pope.
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