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

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Without a Boat (Amended and rewritten 10/15/2018}


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

WITHOUT A BOAT


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

THE TICKET


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

DISAPPEARED


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

TRANSLUCENT


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

A Secret Life: Memories from another life.


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.

BACKWASH


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

A Long Time Ago in the Great Faraway


It was a long time ago in the great faraway
When I came to the understanding that I could no longer stay
We looked the other way as I stepped out from her front door
Harsh words spoken, then silence, nothing left to say, so I guess we settled the score
The tale had been said, actions set, and there was nothing more
We turned away, not wanting our eyes to meet again on that terribly sad night
When anger made us say things that later didn’t seem so right
Emptiness then lay where once love for each other had been so tight
But we said our all — then silence fell — and we knew there was nothing more
So we looked the other way as I stepped out from her front door
The porch light turned dark behind me as I walked alone in the rain
To where my car sat, my anger melting — and then I began to feel the numbing pain
The key in the ignition, the engine hesitated, coughed, stumbled, and then sudden died
And I sat alone in the long faraway and in that sad silence, I softly cried. 9/1/18

NIGHTFALL, THE LOVERS’ DANCE TAKE TWO


NIGHTFALL, THE LOVERS’ DANCE 2
I recall the night when a hot summer rain came
And settled in with a breeze bringing coolness to the room
Where two lovers met and when they left never were the same
In an old cheap apartment in downtown Sarasota
Where they danced to a scratchy record
It was missing the label but played
On an old player, he’d found in the trash
While drinking from cans of stale beer
Rescued from a refrigerator that barely cooled
But without cares, they drank in a dim light
Coming from the only bulb left working in a corner table lamp
And somewhere in the world, a wall was being torn down
Somewhere a child was being born
Somewhere someone was dying all alone
As they danced
They could hear water dripping from pipes in the wall
Falling to the concrete foundation two floors below
Somehow the couple had found each other
Names were not needed that night and in a simple embrace
Shared the last cigarette in a crushed pack left tossed to the floor
While singing a song neither knew, but sang anyway.

© 2018 Poet in the Rain: Gordon Kuhn