Tag: War

• Georgia & Footprints in Time

  Posted at 11:20 pm by Gordon, on January 8, 2019

  
  

  We spent a week in Georgia on our property there. It is was nice but a bit sad. Raining in reality and in relationships. Funny how things can change. When someone is ill from drugs or alcohol and they get straight or die it is generally true that the family and those close by are found to be ill themselves. But they don’t recognize it. Such is the case in Georgia.

   

  FOOTPRINTS IN TIME

  Hours of minutes made to sand were turned
  As days once were, they came haunting naked
  Beasts as ghosts did arise to hungry feed
  Upon the very aperture of thought twisted then to seed
  Being spread out before the hosts from near and distant past
  Disallowing peace to remain encamped or to last
  As the fire of memory rose and clouded the sky
  With a smoke meant to hang in the air and not to fly
  On winds set to bring each day into focus pure
  Instead in memory’s pain the days became obscure

   

  Copyright 2017 Gordon Kuhn

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  Posted in blogging., Literary Arts, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, PTSD, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, War, writers, Writing

• truth slain and random thoughts over ice cream 8.14.17

  Posted at 12:28 am by Gordon, on August 14, 2017

  
  

  Truth Slain on a TV Stand

  The morning bell was met head-on
  And each child followed the trail as winter won
  To where truth then was set upon and promptly slain
  For sadly truth had gathered thinking it safe
  As if fearing safety it mattered simply not
  The rot that had grown up in Webster’s lot
  While all about the dreamer’s world came that
  A web of cotton thread all wound about
  That hid the learned from the learning there
  With great gashes to the bone through grisly hair
  I watched as torment swept up the path
  To claim that which was left of the day
  Coiled in self-incriminating powered doubt
  For none was there with whom to share
  And none was there to take the classic dare
  But, instead, the gentle waves of sympathy rose
  To climb aboard the train of memories
  Before the closing bell had rung and
  Students filled with nonsense about the world around
  Ran home to watch Kukla, Fran, and Ollie
  On the small black and white TV screen
  That had come to land in a place of pride
  An altar of electronic marvel to stun the world
  The twisting movement about of rabbit ears
  The frantic swirling the antenna about
  In hopes to get the camera shot
  Before the ending of the show
  In search of the spot, the spot, the spot to find
  To make the frazzled snow look more real
  Where Lucy, Desi, Ethel and Fred would be
  Along with an accordion player had earlier graced the day
  Making life appear as easy without pain or torment
  They lied, the lied, they spun and twisted the thin posts
  And they lied, they lied, while we ate cold beans in a pouring rain
  While children we ate Tomato Soup with thick buttered white bread
  Prophesied to help us in at least 8 ways
  Enriched (we found was putting back that removed) for us
  Only to be told so many years later that
  White bread will kill you as it brings on the fat
  And that Lucy and Dezi, Ethel and Fred
  Didn’t get along, but we never knew and so
  We twisted those damn antennas round and round
  Until we found the spot, the spot, the damned spot
  And certain ghost like creatures appeared in scattered form
  Focused on the glass screen as if the world was somehow going right
  While war was off in a foreign land
  And so we searched for the spot, the spot, the spot. 8.13.2017

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  Posted in blogging., Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Depression, Fantasy, humor, Literature, Online Writing, poems, Poet, Poetry, Poets, true crime, War, writers, Writers Resources, Writing

• A Sunday Night Poem: Passages along with random thoughts about nothing important 2248/080617

  Posted at 10:20 pm by Gordon, on August 6, 2017

  
  

  The Peppermint Lounge, Montego Bay, 1962
  By Gordon Kuhn copyright 08.06.2017
  all rights reserved.

  There once was a whore house in Montego Bay
  Where $2 bought a pitcher of beer and 5 got you a lay
  There bronze skinned ladies with loose dresses would sway
  with the music until the break of day
  Never letting the customers stray too far away
  Ah, the booze was cheap and the ladies kept their smiles
  And we never once shared our private trials
  But laughed and danced and drank the night away
  Until dawns’ light broke the fragile spell
  When we went back to the ships with memories to tell
  Our youthful hunger for rowdy times and cheap romance sated
  To the ships where our rifles and ammo near our packs silently waited.

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  Posted in alcoholism, blogging., Literary Arts, memories, Military, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, unassigned, Uncategorized, Veterans, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Cuba, Gordon Kuhn, Jamaica, Life, Marines, Military, Poetry, Poets, War, Writing

• Battle Flag

  Posted at 5:59 am by Gordon, on December 22, 2016

  
  

  Battle Flag

   

  The battle flag sudden snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

  Above the post on the hill that even God had not known about back then

  On a hot and sticky day where boys waited amid the baking heat

  All seemed to stand still in the sudden roar of quiet to those there that day

  Broken by the Sergeant’s sudden shout of “guns up!” that tore the silence apart

  Rifles swung up then their muzzles pointed out and down across the clearing

  Where men of difference moved so quiet in the sea of grass

  Then, with hearts beating hard in all the chests of those there that hour and day

  Searing rounds were sent out for the human shearing

  A burst returned ripped holes in the flag that flew in the wind

  Blood and mud spattered, its fabric so worn and so thin

  That flew above boys that day sudden turned into men

  It snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

  Above the post on the hill that no one, not even God knew about back then.                

  6/10/13 edited 12/22/2016

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  Posted in blogging., death, memories, Military, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, PTSD, unassigned, Uncategorized, Veterans, Vietnam, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Death, Gordon Kuhn, Poet, Poetry, Poets, War, writers, Writing

• FRIENDSHIPS, WONDERS, BAGPIPES, AND WHO’S ON FIRST

  Posted at 10:19 pm by Gordon, on August 25, 2016

  
  

  A friend called and asked Jan and I out to dinner. It was fun. Jan and I have not seen them in a long time.

  Jean and Mike! We went to a Mexican restaurant locally (like where else would we go? oh, just thought we’d pop off in a commercial jet and wing our way to California…God help us…and get Mexican fast food) where we had eaten before. Personally I think it is all made up and kept in the fridge (a lot of restaurants do that) and just pop it in the micro when someone comes along and orders it. Anyway, it was good. I brought home my leftovers in a foam type package and we left it on the table inside the front door. Bet you are wondering where it is tonight and no I didn’t eat it.

  Anyway, it was a surprise and welcome one but I am a bit of an anti-social person and I hate crowds and I always feel uncomfortable in such situations. (This morning I met with a group of fellow vets and they sang happy birthday to me. Yep. Pure torture.) On the one hand I want and welcome the attention and on the other it is like telling me that I just walked through a patch of poison ivy. I think that is part of my self-destructive nature like forgetting it was my month to buy donuts for my vet group because it was my birthday month…..hey, why doesn’t the group by the donuts for the person having the birthday and not the reverse.

  I would think that is the way it should be, but I guess it all works out in the end. One of the vets there this morning was in a unit in Vietnam that suffered the most casualties of the war. In one engagement they had over 300 casualties. I find it amazing to be in the company of such men as he.

  In other interesting news facts, I came across a veterans art studio in St. Petersburg. They are doing an open house on September 16. There is to be a band there, other artists, and me. I’ve been invited to do a book signing. So now the mad rush is on to complete and print the first of two books in a series regarding a true crime event. I managed to get a cover done for the book. It only took me three days. I only lost 12 versions of the artwork to the monster hiding in my computer that probably ate the damn things. When I reported my problems to the software manager/owner/developer I was informed that no one ever from the time that God made Adam had ever reported having any difficulty with their software. I guess, in a way, that was a polite way of being told, “you’re stupid.”

   

   

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  Posted in Crime, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, Poetry, Poets, Uncategorized, Veterans, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, narrative non-fiction, Poetry, Poets, true crime, War, Writing

• Damn, I forgot what I was going to write about.

  Posted at 10:01 am by Gordon, on February 28, 2016

  
  

  Do you ever do that; forget what you are writing about? I just did, and I thought it was important at the time. My error was straying to Facebook and getting into a conversation there with someone who knows nothing of what is taking place with our military. I’m sorry, I think our military should be a major concern today given what is taking place in the world. For those not awake, you need to understand that our military is at pre-World War Two levels of equipment, personnel, and supplies. It is stretched out over the world. They are doing two and three tours of duty. The suicide rate is extremely high. It astonishes me to have someone say, as that person did, that they really have no clue about our military. Gosh, I wonder if they even know we have one.

   

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  Posted in blogging., Military | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Military, War, Writing

• BATTLE FLAG

  Posted at 12:18 am by Gordon, on December 28, 2015

  
  

  Battle Flag

   

  The battle flag snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

  Above the post on the hill that even God had forgotten about back then

  Rifles swung up and pointed out and down across the clearing

  Searing rounds were sent out for the human shearing

  A burst returned ripped holes in the flag that flew in the wind

  Blood and mud spattered, its fabric so worn and so thin

  That flew above boys that day sudden turned into men

  It snapped and swung up to fly in the wind

  Above the post on the hill that no one, not even God knew about back then.                 6/10/13

  ***The above poem can be found in the book: Rabbit in a Box.

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  Posted in blogging., Military, POET, Poetry, Poets, Vietnam | 0 Comments | Tagged Military, Poetry, Poets, Veterans, Vietnam, War, writers, Writing

• GOD WENT FOR A WALK — Title Poem

  Posted at 6:24 pm by Gordon, on December 13, 2015

  
  

  GOD WENT FOR A WALK is a soon to be published book of poetry. It follows on The Widow’s Cliff and on Rabbit in a Box.  Currently there are 129 poems in this collection. I will be adding and editing and posting here.

  God Went for a Walk

  I woke to hear a rooster throw

  Its head back to announce

  The coming of the dawning day

  Before a hungry cat did sudden pounce

  And ran off all the silly school children

  Who squealing terror passed me by

  For they had ventured out with games to play

  But could not stand to watch the rooster die

  Nor understand as nature went her natural way

  And watching wondered then I about it all

  What place within this lack of walls

  Should shelter me from asking then

  For certain someone told me way back when

  I thought it odd with all so very wrong

  That God should simply take a walk

  And fail to ask me to come along.                                                      June 19, 2013

   

   

   

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  Posted in Fantasy, Gordon Kuhn, Humanity, Literary Arts, POET, Poetry, Poetry, unassigned, Uncategorized, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Fantasy, Fiction, Gordon Kuhn, humor, Life, Literature, Military, nonfiction, Poetry, Poets, War, Writing

• VETERAN!

  Posted at 6:11 am by Gordon, on November 11, 2015

  
  

  Copyright by Gordon Kuhn 11/10/2015

  On this day the United States Marine Corps is 240 years old.  I and other Marines all celebrate today worldwide.

  Veteran!

  Three simple syllables. Yet, one of the most powerful words in our lexicon. One of the most meaningful. It identifies the person so called as having a place in history. They left behind family and friends and stepped into the breach risking their lives for the protection of others and the freedoms we all share.

   Veteran!

  The word, the label, if you wish, transcends the ages, and more. It does not discriminate over sex. It does not look at cultural heritage. It cares not for your religion or political beliefs. It does not care if you were in one branch of service over another. It does not measure your service based on the tasks you were assigned. It does not care if you were drafted or joined as a volunteer. It only cares that you stood and took an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States.

  Veteran!

  A simple word that identifies the person so honored as called as being a part of history. Each one has stories unique to the time and locations of where they served. Each left family and friends behind and stepped forward into the breach risking their lives for the protection of others and for the freedoms we all share.

   

  Veteran!

  ——————————————————————————————— 

  Copyright 11/10/2015 by Gordon Kuhn

   

  Veteran

  You stood your watch and honored are

  Now feel the breath of history brush across your face

  Here the voices of those who went before you

  And those who came after whisper your name

  You who left your family and friends behind

  And stepped forward to protect them

  Drafted or joined

  You faced loneliness

  You witnessed violence

  And felt the cold sense of fear

  And you stood your watches

  Regardless of where you were

  Or the time of day

  Or the weather that surrounded you

  In daylight or night, warm or cold, dry or chilled by rain

  You kept your orders regardless of the pain

  It matters not what sex you are

  Nor the color of your skin

  It matters not what religion you take comfort in

  Or, perhaps, none at all

  It doesn’t matter what task you were assigned

  From clerk to rifleman, to sailor, or in the sky

  You stood your ground for freedom and for family

  You stood your watch, and honored are

  And honor laid upon you the title: Veteran

   

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  Posted in Literary Arts, POET, Poetry, Poetry, Poets, Post Traumatic Disorder, writers, Writing | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Poetry, Poets, War, Writing

• About July Fourth & an update on Predator.

  Posted at 6:19 am by Gordon, on July 5, 2015

  
  

  Surviving the Fireworks

  Well, we survived another fourth of being hammered with explosions and pieces of burning munitions falling from the sky. I’ve not been out to look at the screen porch. Hopefully it is okay. Some people just don’t understand that what goes up has to come back down. Fortunately it rained before the rocket show as some people were shooting from the woods where a fire had broken out a few years back when a bunch of kids shot off fireworks. The fire department had to come out and put it out before one of the houses burned down

  .

  Our 11 1/2 year old Great Pyrenees had a tough night. On the 3rd I gave her 1/2 a pill for anxiety and it knocked her down. I’ll never do that again. She was so out of it that she couldn’t get up. Only gave her 1/8th of the same medication last night and it helped calm her without knocking her flat. I will have to let the vet know.

  ====================================

  Predator, The Man Who Didn’t Exist

  Well, the killer is still sitting in prison in a 6 by 9 foot cell for 23 hours a day with no one to talk with. His attorneys are still looking at filing appeals. They want him off of death row. Too bad. He beat one woman to death and is a suspect in another grisly murder.

  The book is now at 420 pages and that is with my cutting here and there. I have been working on this book now for 3 years. I think it needs to get done.

  ====================================

  Upcoming

  A fellow Vietnam Vet wants me to write a book about his tour of duty in Vietnam.

   What was left of the helicopter after being shot down.

  We are waiting for Soldier of Fortune to print Shot Down In Laos. It is a story about a rescue mission that went bad in Laos in 1969. Unfortunately the man the story is about died just a few weeks back. His funeral was just a week back.

   

  ===================================

  New Followers

  derline   

  https://derline.wordpress.com/2015/04/20/just-me/        She lives in the Philippines and has a great page that includes photos. She can also be found on Gravatar:  http://en.gravatar.com/bhitok

  Dr. Joseph Suglia

  http://en.gravatar.com/drjosephsuglia   He is a writer and some of his work can be seen at: http://table41thenovel.com/2014/12/21/table-41-a-novel-by-joseph-suglia/

  ===========================

  Thanks for stopping by! But, don’t forget http://www.805lit.org!

   

   

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  Posted in home invasion, memories, narrative nonfiction, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged blogging, Crime, Gordon Kuhn, War, Writing