Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

HOW STRANGE THE NIGHT BEFORE ME SPREAD
1/19/2011
Gordon Kuhn © 2011

How strange the night before me spread
as I was taken firmly by a vapor hand
taken from my sleeping bed
while she whom I had recent wed
still slept near where I’d lain my head
and came to find myself being ghostly led
while about me swirled an odd lit land
whose face was naught but singular bled
from darkness deepened beyond darkest dread
past doorways with windowless voices
which spoke of myriads of choices
paths to unknown forces
where gates hung loosely open
no entry words need be spoken
but at length I soon saw through the gloom
and recognized the coming doom
and reaching out I then attacked the evil
that held my hand in deep despair
forced it from its bloody lair
and thus in that world caused upheaval.

Read Full Post »

Wakened by a Scream

1/13/2011

Gordon Kuhn

Copy Write 2011 by Gordon Kuhn

I was wakened by a sudden scream,

the sound exploded in the darkest hours

engulfed and filled the silent room

silent lit by a full and shining blood-red moon.

I was jerked out,

tumbled out,

forced from a pleasant dream,

to lay in a tormented bed,

in wide eyed surprise,

affright from toe to head,

trying my best how to surmise,

what lay next in life,

did in concealment lie.

In fear then was led.

in silent memory anguish fed,

guilt for sins unleashed to tread

upon issues long thought dead.

Not breathing,

afraid to move.

afraid to live,

afraid to die,

my mind was seething,

afraid the world was passing by,

and no mark upon it had I made,

as if in life,

I had not ever been or stayed.

And listened to my heart,

beating beneath the sheets,

and knew there was,

——no one there,

that I was all alone,

just me,

just me with the moon,

a giant blood-red moon,

silent peeking in the room

the very silent lonely room,

Read Full Post »

THE DEATH OF ST. MARY’S

Copy Write 2011 by Gordon Kuhn

1/1/2011

 

A shadow,

there!

Did not you see it by the stair?

A flute player stood lonely with his lute

and plucked the missing strings with his tongue.

From her lung rang out a wordless song,

while long wondered the camel for its missing hump;

and a lump rose up in St. Mary’s concrete throat

at the decline in worshipers who filled the pews,

and wondered about the fuse the laborer lit,

then realized it was a wrecking company

that did accompany a dynamite team

just as the seam was ripped in one big clap of thunder

and St. Mary suddenly went asunder.

Read Full Post »

THE OUTER WORLD IS DUSTED12/28/2010Copy Write © 2010 Gordon Kuhn

The outer world is dusted in a gentle mist unfurled

thick enough to cause to disappear, amid smoky jaws at once unclear,

trees in hush did in vapor seem to freeze while growing distant there

from my watcher’s spot I can view the lot as sought in wonder thought

where I know lie they in short remoteness stare back at me

without any lack of mystery or depth of bewitchery

the world in hazy air lays curled asleep while I at watch do keep

this early morning which seems adjourning from clear sight returning

away from the spot whereupon I stand and view this calmly ventured land.

Read Full Post »

FRIGHTENED

FRIGHTENED

by

Gordon Kuhn

Copy write 2010 © Gordon Kuhn

It’s six in the morning.

My nephew and his wife have gone.

I sit in their basement apartment,

alone——

trapped.

It is Chicago outside.

Ah, sweet Old Windy.

I grew up here.

But——

I am afraid.

God, so afraid.

Why do I fear?

What do I fear?

I know this place.

I hear the sound of traffic

moving along arteries

not far from where I sit

alone——

trapped.

God, I grew up here!

Yet now I’m a visitor from some strange planet

where stalking others is the game of the day

and returned I somehow lost my way.

Yet, I fear.

And, yet I fear.

I fear and wish to run from this place.

To take my car

the only place I feel secure

warm and safe within——

and run.

Read Full Post »

HOW CAME THIS FEELING

12/25/2010

Copy Write © 2010 Gordon Kuhn

How came this feeling of being——alone

set apart from others who seem to easily, openly share

round about me, as I inwardly feel the cool of stone

my timing is so awkward in attempts to find a way to share

and my voice comes to me as though in an emotionless drone

while others seem to shine and with each word spoken there

match the others in easy developed vocal tone

but I feel and fear it is not the same with me

nor ever was, or ever should, or could ever be

but, even still, the feeling lasts that in someway I am——alone.

Read Full Post »

Evening comes and in so doing in growing darkness compresses time just a bit and so we in good company choose to sit and reminisce and think of blessings received and drift in thoughts of loved ones who are not so near.

Read Full Post »

So morning comes as morning does and I awake and for a moment lie between two worlds…….or is it more than two I wonder. The first thoughts are laced with fog and questions which I don’t easily recall as moments slip away to become minutes moving forward into the day. Thoughts like loosed hummingbirds dart here and there trying to find something sweet to eat. Ah, where is the first cup of coffee at?

Read Full Post »

Her Name Was Saucy Miss Merry Fair12/20/2010

Copy Write 2010 Gordon Kuhn

Her name was Saucy Miss Merry Fair

and she rose up proudly from the sea and said she lived there

she told me she was from down Kensington Way

and thought this a new place she might could stay

I told her she needed to brush the sea weed from her hair

though it was very well placed from what I could see

but else others, not me of course, might rudely stare

and would not believe she actually belonged there

among we who common folk were said to be

and she advised she could drop the weed back in the sea

and it would change to children born so long by she

“A good place to plant my feet, though webbed they are you see.”

“Time to move on,” she said, “how about a warm cup of tea?”

I advised of a place down the lane where neighbors went

at odd times of day to sit, sip and eat a bit, and sometimes vent

their feelings of government and prices of this and that and gaze out on the

sea

That suited her, she said, and took my hand and led

and we sat and drank a cup of tea, a with a cookie each was fed

while neighbors gawked at this beauty who had come up to meet me from

the sea

and who chose to sit and dine and laugh alone with me.

Six years ago the lass and I were wed

and then her children came up from the sea

to live with us and share our bread

for in love, by love, and with love they and she

came forth from the dark ocean waters to live and stay

and she and they were from the chilly waters set firmly, finally free.

Read Full Post »

New Poem

 

 Last Night I Dreamed a Dream that I Cannot Share.12/20/2010

Copy Write 2010 Gordon Kuhn

 Last night I dreamed a dream that I cannot share

of someone whose touch I found so gentle fair

she touched my cheek and I thought she was really there

but time in dreams when awake we find is very bare

and rub our eyes and at the world about we calmly stare

and wondered I about the lass whose touch was so gentle fair.

Last night I dreamed a dream that I cannot share

of someone whose touch upon my face was so gentle fair

her lips brushed mine and I thought she was really there.

Last night I dreamed a dream that I cannot share.

MY BLOGS:
Poet in the Rain: https://gkpoems.wordpress.com/
Thoughts: http://gordonwrites.com/
Prince of Dan: http://theprinceofdan.blogspot.com/

Poem – Last Night I Dreamed a Dream that I Cannot Share.doc

Read Full Post »