WHAT?


        by improve everywhere

Do you like poetry? I like poetry. My dogs have always like poetry. Have you ever heard me read poetry? How about if I sang it to you? Any chance for that? Come on where’s the support here, there, over there. It has to be here someplace, why else would I write poetry? Happy poetry, sad poetry, nonsense poetry, and serious poetry. Ok, you can just sit and read then…..but if you do make it MY poetry that you read: The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems on Amazon, or for a very select few, Rabbit in a Box also on Amazon.

You do want to support me, don’t you. Of course you do. Amazon, Gordon Kuhn….come and buy a book!   My dog thanks you.

 

 


 

Good morning, afternoon, or evening depending on where you are. But happy to see you stopped by, put a cup of coffee down, and sat down so we could talk about some serious things.  The first is that I am almost finished with the second true crime book about a serial killer in Sarasota and Manatee Counties.  It is called Predator: The Man Who Didn’t Exist, Nightmare on Terra Ceia……and some call it The Lady in a Pink Top.  

In any case it is about the murder of a doctor’s wife on Terra Ceia Island just off Palmetto, Florida. It is the sister book to the one titled Do You Know How To Fly.

Sales are good! I invite you to http://www.authorgordonkuhn.com or go to Amazon and make a purchase. You can also get the book on Kindle.

Now, one last thing. I am looking for a reliable literary agent. If you know of one please write me at GKUHNWRITES@AOL.COM

ALEEN Continued


And so as evening fell fully away from the day and
Those watching went their separate way
Speaking not of evil left there cloaked in dark wings
And left behind small Aleen to sit high upon the hill
The rocky hill that overlooked the city of LLandia
Where the mission keeper sat and looked past them as they left
Brooding about the mission sent him on
And snarled at those who turned to look back at him
For what was their want? Could they have found a better one.
His dark fangs revealed his mood and waited for the taste of blood.
That would run from throats slit by fingernail and dragon tail of wingspan spread
He would wait till fully dark and then mount his quest and deliver the blows
While the silly younger ones left behind who groveled at their teachers feet
Waited for a tasty treat and yet
And yet he recalled Anlock the Strong who spoke to him so long before
Long before the mission clear was in his mind and vision spell
There he had lain away so many days and nights until it became so very clear
That death, dear death would somehow come once again near
And as told when Anloch’s face was close, so close he could hear
The breathing from the lungs deep behind the lacquered armored hide
“Kill them swifty, little one. Surprise those of your kind larger than you.
Surprise them at your strength and keep in mind,
There will come a day when you will have to kill them too.” 1/12/2017

HAUNTED MEMORIES


Angels or demons cast their nets

Wide caught those with memories

Memories of rights and wrongs, I think

Those with recall so sharp and clear

Memories of thoughts themselves cursed

Cursed as were the moments in time brought forth

Forth brought the issues as played out in life complex

Angels or demons, I know not which crawl through my mind

And pull me from the present to the past intense

Visions not wished to replay

But seen there on the big screen

Unable to stop them from their haunting.            1/10/17

Another Book Coming Out—-NO, two books coming out.


I have written about Predator, the first book named Do You Know How To Fly? It is a narrative nonfiction true crime.  The title is a quotation from an actual recording of an interview with a woman who survived a brutal attack.

She was dragged naked to her balcony 12 floors up.  Delmer Smith pushed her up and over the balcony rail and asked her if she knew how to fly. Well, of course, she didn’t, and she begged him to not drop her for she would surely die. He pulled her back into the 12th floor apartment and beat her.  But she survived.

Then we have the one I am working on Predator: Book Two, The Woman in a Pink Top. It is being worked on. I am trying to make sure I don’t have a bunch of duplications with the old text.

Predator: Do You Know How to Fly? is a true story. The man is  on death  row in Florida along with about another 400 such individuals.  Continue reading “Another Book Coming Out—-NO, two books coming out.”


The Zoo Keeper will be a book of intrigue and mystery. A child grown to manhood but has seen things beyond his years and suffers from without and within demons not seen by others, not known by others, ….. only felt. They are the kind that make the hairs stand upon the skin and noted only as some sort of …. warning, I guess you could say, but from where do they come. What breeze did they float in on and, most importantly, what is it they want with you. The Zoo Keeper, being written now even as I write this. The book controls. The characters control. And, Mrs. Harmon from The Pelman Murders is centerfold, watching, hunting, and perhaps…..killing.

What are we?


I often think of us, you and me, in terms of who we are. I have never come up with an answer to suit me.

What are we? Again, the same problem. Oh, I suppose we can talk about material items, flesh, blood, molecules, that sort of things but does it define us? I think not.

So I have decided that what we are is a collection of memories. We are thoughts. We are not future as the future doesn’t exist. We are not present (even though we think we are) because present is both past and future and future doesn’t exist so you cannot have present. Therefore we are past, and past is memory pushing against the present and the future which are both indistinct and perpetually indistinguishable. In writing I am dealing with thought about the future but the future doesn’t come into being until the present when I type or think out a thought that then becomes past as in memory. Even typing the word out. It doesn’t become until AFTER I hit the key and then the letters fall on the page but this is after and not before. Before is thought but doesn’t exit in the here and now until I help it materialize. The future is undefinable. It exists only because we think it does and yet if you die right now that future you thought about is not here.

And yet, time is accessible past and future to an extent with present being the focus. In essence we are time travelers without the awareness that we are.

 

PREDATOR: The Man Who Didn’t Exist; Book One; Do You Know How To Fly?


Do You Know How to Fly? is now on Kindle.

This is a true crime book. It took me six years to write this book. Book number two will be out soon in paperback and on Kindle through Amazon.

The book is about a man on death row in Florida. He is a career criminal whose life in crime started as a youth. His first conviction occurred when only 14 for the rape of a woman who was in her 30s at a car wash. He would have murdered his victim but she managed to get away. He later was arrested as an adult at age 18 for home invasion robbery and spent another 18 months in jail.

After that he was arrested for bank robbery and spent 15 1/2 years in prison. Following being married to a woman he had never met, he was granted parole and he came to Florida and continued his life in crime here. He assaulted mainly older women who lived alone. He is a suspect in one murder in Sarasota County and was convicted in another in Manatee County. I spent six years working on two books. The first book is Do You Know How to Fly. The second will be titled: The Woman in a Pink Top.

These books will be available through Amazon and Barnes and Noble and all other book stores. But, Do You Know how to Fly is the first and you can now download through Kindle for $3.00. You can order paperback copies through the locations listed above or by contacting me for an autographed copy.

You may also get an eAutograph on Kindle by requesting it.

I hope you enjoy my books as much as I enjoyed writing them for you.

Best to you,

Gordon Kuhn

 

 

 

Field Notes For The Mentally Unprepared # 2


I recall that I gave a slight sigh at his comment, feeling a minor depression forming somewhere in the back of my mind, deep in some rift of grey matter, and I turned to go. It was best to simply go at that point. To leave. To retreat. To leave this man alone before he confused me even more with his ability to see when he was blind and to know without being told. Odd, I thought, How like him he was to the rest of the world in many ways and yet completely unlike the world in many other ways. Too complex for my wee brain to handle and so I turned to go just as he spoke.

“Do you know there is little difference between a white piece of paper and a black piece of paper?”

Man with a Cane.


I was at the Tampa Library earlier today and I stepped outside for a moment to check the weather. There I found a very thin, grey-haired man standing alone leaning up against a pillar near the front door of the building. I noticed that he held a white cane with a red tip on it that informed me that he was blind. We both stood there about twenty feet apart without speaking. I noticed that the cane was held lightly in his right hand and his left hand was hanging loosely with nothing to do . I looked again at the cane and, being someone interested in math, I was curious about the angle that he and the cane formed.

“Forty-five degrees,” he said without looking in my direction.

“What?” I asked, surprised by his comment as I had said nothing to him and wasn’t even sure if he knew I was standing near him.

“Forty-five degrees,” he said again, and then added, “You were wondering at what angle my cane was set from my body. It’s forty=five degrees.” He sniffed and wriggled his nose as if something had irritated it.

“But I didn’t say anything to you.”

“I know,” he signed. “But it’s a common question by those, like you, who are curious about angles and such.”

We stood in silence for several moments and then I added, “But I am the only one out here.”

He turned his head to the left and then to the right and said, “Yep, you’re right. I haven’t seen anyone out here for at least twenty minutes.”