In Georgia


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.

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Georgia & Footprints in Time


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

A DEATH


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

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

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

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

The Restaurant: Ragdoll Chronicles 1.15.18


Ragdoll Chronicles 01.15.18
“Throw him down the chute!” The five merged on Chase who was trying to get out what appeared to be the front door but was in fact a door to nowhere. The storm he had come through was not visible through the glass, nothing was. Just as they were about to grab him a mist formed in the room and when they all turned to see what was the cause they found a crow that stood as tall and as broad as any of them present.
“What the hell?” the raccoon shouted. “Where did that come from?”
The crow looked around himself. “Where is the pond? Where is the glen?” He stepped towards the others who were backing up to avoid contact with the bird’s sharp beak.
“Who are you?” the mouse asked while trying to hide behind the orangutan.
“Priestly,” the crow replied stiffening up quite regally. “Andy who might you be?”
“This has to be Runa’s doing,” the brown bear said. “We need to get clear of this or we will be sucked into this mess as well.”
“I say we toss both of them down the chute,” suggested the mouse trying his best to not be seen by the crow. “We need to get shut of this before the inspectors arrive.”
“Inspectors?” the crow asked while stepping closer to the five who were doing their best to find an avenue of escape, but the crow, as large as it was, blocked them and held them there with the boy shoved up against the wall behind them.