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? |
Posts Tagged ‘Writing’
Morning Thoughts
Posted in Fantasy, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing, tagged Fantasy, poetry, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing on December 23, 2010| Leave a Comment »
Her Name Was Saucy Miss Merry Fair
Posted in Fantasy, Love, Poems, The Ocean, The Sea, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Fantasy, Love, Poems, poetry, Poetry, poets, Uncategorized, Writing on December 21, 2010| 1 Comment »
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. |
New Poem
Posted in Poems, Writers, Writing, tagged Poems, poetry, Poetry, poets, Writers, Writing on December 21, 2010| 2 Comments »
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: |
Melancholy Wisps of Feelings Silent Slip
Posted in Depression, Emotions, Poems, Suicide, Writers, Writing, tagged Depression, Emotions, Poems, poetry, poets, Suicide, Writers, Writing on December 20, 2010| Leave a Comment »
MELANCHOLY WISPS OF FEELINGS SILENT SLIP December 19, 2010 Copy Write 2010 Gordon Kuhn
Melancholy wisps of feelings silent slip to come firmly into place, then lock themselves tightly in as a broken puzzle would in mass confusion, spaces filled with misaligned if not brooding pieces were lifeless left, to complete the mess and in nightmare could provide the stress not assigned while I sit and stare off into a simple, soundless empty space no thoughts given to the cause. Nay, no to any trace. Mental grown rose petals there, that once caused thoughts to stop and stare now dark turn and tumbling fall from God’s sweet grace. Broken free from their mother’s wooden lifeless teat cast off, forced off, did they not cry out at the rend? or, instead dead were before the end, lost their hold on natures life granting seat. Brittle left, fragrance gone, surrendered to the wind, they then come and crumble into nature’s waiting soot to disappear where they landed put no comment, no word, no letter did they outward send and there a part of earthen soil their ashes soon with little thought of how once their beauty had with awe been sought now beneath a crushing careless boot to death are put while stale grey, ink-grey clouds leaded down with heavy remorse stretch out flat across the gentle, blue-stained concourse where no winged, hopeful creatures will be or have taken to the air none could as simply put there are none who any longer care no simple thoughts of buoyant anticipation that realm did or could open share with another, while damped down, smashed down, in growing depth of deadly deep despair while bottomless waters lap at the oar-less boat left floating, drifting with a cut and trailing rope that lay drifting in a twisted, curving line. The craft’s destination left unplanned. Its cockpit deserted, empty and unmanned. Boat and line left floating without any clear design of goal to reach, no course in mind, no map or compass to remind but trailing, points the way back to where once lived hope. But hope has passed away, and no longer has its due; for hope had perished, left to lay still and lifeless upon the dock where once the world seemed so bright and strife-less. But then despair—— its life coldly, boldly took and slew before turning to slice a cut through the boats single safety line that never had before lost its contact with the safety of that which once kept the craft tethered unharmed through the moving, ever changing passage of what we call time but in this wild purchase of despair that which we called protector, safety calmly slept. ================================ Author of Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems OR You can go to Barnes & Noble and order it there. MY BLOGS: ============================================== |
THE WORDS ARE FLYING
Posted in Emotions, Poems, Writing, tagged Emotions, Poems, Writing on December 16, 2010| Leave a Comment »
The Words Are Flying
11/26/2010
Copy Write © 2010 Gordon Kuhn
Damnit!
The words are flying wide and wild this brooding sleepless night,
but none seem to fall in line, nor stay long enough within my sight
to deliver options to my pen, nor to charge the ink lying waiting therein,
a dark liquid which seems to understand my depths of joylessness wherein
I slip in struggle against ill thoughts, brooding views, a clinging fight
and calling shadows show, to me, to the world, a false delight
while trying to raise the alarm and mount a force for urgency to fight
as the fever presses in and is not so soft in touch or pressure light
and there find self trapped, wrapped tight in a blanket of self inflicted doubt
questioning all that lay exposed within a single candle’s flickering light
while all belief told might not be true that comes anxious into view
and a candle weak could easy lose its light if the wind a bit stronger blew.