Poetry | THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Tag: Poetry
- A DEATH
  
  Posted at 1:14 am by Gordon, on October 20, 2018
  A DEATH
  
  A distant friend has passed this night
  
  Passed and joined another realm, another dance
  
  Brandy and death together in a waltz
  
  Without tears falling from dry eyes
  
  The sorrow of the dancers goes on living
  
  Trapped in an eternal ballet as life goes on to die
  
  While nature’s odd sorts in pose stand frozen
  
  Where they are locked and wearing a disguise
  
  And you love me as someone you cannot stop
  
  While we will dance with brandy and with death
  
  Until the hours fall away and death caves in
  
  Leaving an opening where one had never been
  
  Under the shadows of the moon
  
  Amid a stagnate wind
  
  Remember us when you drink brandy and dance in a waltz
  
  While about us the dancers fall in death
  
  One upon one to cover the ballroom floor
  
  And tears cannot fall from dry eyes
  
  Even when we are all wearing a disguise
  
  And pretend to be just one across time
  
  Dancing with brandy and with death
  
  With dry eyes unable to drop a single tear
  
  And a distant friend has passed this night
  
  Passed and joined another realm, another dance
  
  While you and I stand in love, hand in hand
  
  And watch the world as for some it comes to an end.
  
  Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain 11/19/18
  
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing
- A CAST OF ELVIS
  
  Posted at 8:55 pm by Gordon, on October 17, 2018
  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
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  Posted in Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, Relationships, writers, Writing
- Without a Boat (Amended and rewritten 10/15/2018}
  
  Posted at 6:23 am by Gordon, on October 16, 2018
  WITHOUT A BOAT (amended/rewritten 10/15/2018)
  
  Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  He had no need upon that to stand, for he could easily float
  Above the briny chilling cold and darkest dark of deep
  Where many sailors struggled and in death there they fell to sleep
  He had no need to save anyone from their drowning
  For their lives, they sole alone by free choice were forming
  While his force was in league with the ghostly godly nature
  And blessed with acceptance of the final cleansing rapture
  But man and God in their relationship had suffered a fracture
  And the book said Jesus had come with his blood to repair
  The breach that God had laid upon humans in despair
  And in trusting to his words to those he left behind
  Simple messages given to save and to remind
  All in time of his divine and spiritual nature
  But if today he were alive he would surely and sadly find that
  The church he never formed is now a business venture
  Run by modern-day Pharisees and scribes
  With guilt, incense, robes, and chants they monopolize
  with finance and profit at the center
  suggesting sins can be obliterated by monetary bribes
  But Jesus was a simple sailor who sailed without a boat
  Others never realized their faith would help them float
  above the briny cold and darkest dark of deep
  where many sailors had gone to deathly sleep
  then with his fellows and fish the main course for dinners
  he would sit and break bread with sinners
  upon the shore with a roaring fire the flames in curls
  Where he ate and laughed and talked about girls
  And there he broke bread and drank wine
  so long ago in an ancient time.
  
  Written on 10/14/18 Copyright, 2018 Gordon Kuhn All rights Reserved
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, poems, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- WITHOUT A BOAT
  
  Posted at 5:55 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2018
  WITHOUT A BOAT
  
  Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  
  He had no need upon that to stand
  
  He had no need to save anyone
  
  His force was in league with nature
  
  But man and God had suffered a fracture
  
  And the book says Jesus came to repair
  
  Today he would find sadly that
  
  The church he never formed is a business
  
  Run by modern-day Pharisees and scribes
  
  With guilt, incense, robes, and chants
  
  But Jesus was a sailor who sailed without a boat
  
  And he sat upon the shore with friends
  
  Where he ate and laughed and talked about girls
  
  And there he broke bread and drank wine.
  
  COPYRIGHT 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED GORDON KUHN 10/14/18
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Literature, Poetry, Poets, Writing
- THE TICKET
  
  Posted at 3:57 am by Gordon, on October 11, 2018
  THE TICKET
  
  It is the middle of the night
  And the railroad freight has just come in
  A sharp whistle slicing though the silence
  The engineer has taken his hand from the throttle
  The sound of escaping steam ends the prayers for the night
  The passengers all wandered off, boxes, empty boxes
  Wandering off to find a place to be unpacked
  And I wonder if it was me or you who had committed sin
  There in the railroad car in the dark among the silent boxes
  If sin was committed at all and was this a holy night
  When the conductor suddenly asked for my ticket
  As the train came to its final stop
  The sound of escaping steam ending the prayers for the night
  And I searched my pockets with all my might but
  I was not able to find the proof that I had bought one
  When the train came to its final stop and the conductor asked
  Wanting me to provide him with the proof
  That I belonged there with you
  But as I turned to where you had been, I found you were gone
  I was all alone in an empty railroad car
  The sound of escaping steam had ended the prayers for the night
  Standing alone in the rain, I wondered
  Which of us had committed sin
  If sin had been committed at all.
  
  Copy Write All rights reserved Gordon Kuhn 10/11/18
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  Posted in Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing
- DISAPPEARED
  
  Posted at 6:12 am by Gordon, on October 10, 2018
  DISAPPEARED
  
  Morning comes and I find you are not here
  
  Yet we are to believe that you are
  
  The bible sellers stand on their stages
  
  And claim the same claim from ages
  
  And I see about the world and even near
  
  Violence that you could easily stop
  
  You are a religious star
  
  But I am beginning to fear
  
  That like Santa Claus they lied
  
  It is a joke that society paid
  
  To convince us of a redeemer
  
  Who with the power to stop the slaughter
  
  Perhaps was never here
  
  Maybe like Santa Clause
  
  You just disappeared
  
  10/10/18 COPYRIGHT 2018 GORDON KUHN
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  Posted in Gordon Kuhn, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Online Writing, Poetry, Poets, QUESTIONS, Writing
- TRANSLUCENT
  
  Posted at 5:05 am by Gordon, on September 29, 2018
  Translucent
  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
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  Posted in Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Gordon Kuhn, Life, Poetry, Poets, Rain, writers, Writing
- AWAKENING
  
  Posted at 6:11 pm by Gordon, on September 27, 2018
  I woke this morning to a different world
  Everything had sudden changed overnight
  When the rains came, fell, and the grass uncurled
  Where I had walked during the heat of the day before
  And there was nothing for me to do
  There was nothing I could or would say
  The world changed when I turned and looked away
  For a moment, a second, a sliver of time
  When I thought all was safe and secure
  And so I woke with a bloody nose
  I woke and I found what I thought was false
  And came to realize that there was no longer within the fight
  There was little desire within me to travel much further
  And yet I have to move along this path
  And stay on the lane wherein it is true
  That life is such and nothing can be undone.
  
  Copyright 2018 All rights reserved: Gordon Kuhn
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  Posted in POET, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Gordon Kuhn, poems, Poet, Poetry, Writing
- A Secret Life: Memories from another life.
  
  Posted at 3:03 am by Gordon, on September 14, 2018
  A friend from a past life told me of a love
  But sadly he said he doesn’t recall her name
  That is really such a shame
  For way back when he was just age 23
  I knew him as we worked for the same company
  He met her in a restaurant where she waitressed
  Back when he in a suit was dressed
  And he fell in love when she caught his eye
  Along with his open, clear and honest desire
  Hoping to date her but she was married
  And his hopes on wing were carried
  Right out the front door to fly away
  And his heart was crushed on the restaurant floor
  Then came a night following the heavy heat of day
  Where in a pool hall barroom they met and she chose to stay
  With a quart of beer and two packs of cigarettes each the other led
  Back to his one bedroom apartment on Osprey
  Down the hall from where I lived
  There their clothes were soon shed
  And in the heavy heat of the night she took his bed
  So long ago was that singular day
  But the reality was she could not stay
  Each of them had a life to live
  And she was not free for her love to give
  Her face he can see in memory for years thereafter
  But sadly, her name slipped away
  It is just memories from another life that still remain
  Memories from a secret life.
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  Posted in blogging., Poet, Poetry, Poets, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Memories, Online Writing, poems, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing
- BACKWASH
  
  Posted at 8:11 pm by Gordon, on September 9, 2018
  BACKWASH
  Walking backwards in my mind slowly thru time
  I find myself stranded, just another body standing in line
  A pathetic piece of flesh and bone
  Left alive to review all the scrapings my handmade in stone
  Until the carving knife broke from all the writing
  And I found that my life was not so exciting
  As I had envisioned it
  But drinking made it seem to fit
  The surrounding air and places I had the train boarded
  Without thought of where the trip was going or how sorted
  It would be
  But I would soon see
  The bridge left broken and bloody near that meadow in years past
  Where death took a friend and then came the revenge that failed to last
  In my heart, that day as the vomit filled my mouth with backwash
  And life about me began to sway and I felt the sting of a lash
  
  Copyright 2018 Gordon Kuhn: written 9.9.18 first draft
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  Posted in POET, Poetry, Poets, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Gordon Kuhn, Poetry, Poets, writers
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Tag: Poetry

Posted at 1:14 am by Gordon, on October 20, 2018

A DEATH

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Posted at 8:55 pm by Gordon, on October 17, 2018

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Posted at 6:23 am by Gordon, on October 16, 2018

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Posted at 5:55 am by Gordon, on October 14, 2018

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Posted at 3:57 am by Gordon, on October 11, 2018

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Posted at 6:12 am by Gordon, on October 10, 2018

DISAPPEARED

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Posted at 5:05 am by Gordon, on September 29, 2018

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Posted at 6:11 pm by Gordon, on September 27, 2018

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Posted at 3:03 am by Gordon, on September 14, 2018

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Posted at 8:11 pm by Gordon, on September 9, 2018

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