Author: Kurt Philip Behm

I am a lifelong author with 21 books published to date—one best seller. Much of my writing is about the deception of time and its many disguises. My Poetry 'An Anthology Of Perception,' is now available in four volumes. In addition I have a 175 page Poem 'After Midnight,' that was published in 2014. My Historical Fiction series, 'The Sword Of Ichiban' is now up to volume 8 which is being published this Spring ... Vol #1- The Sword Of Ichiban Vol #2- Darkening Sun Vol #3- Revenge Along The War Trail Vol #4- Death From The Sky Vol #5- Jumping Into the Darkness Vol #6- The Fall City Mandate. Vol #7- Approaching Storm Vol #8- Brothers In Blood One autobiographical novel, 'The Death Of The Playground' a Best Seller, published in 2007. One travel novel, 'Searching For Crazy Horse,' published in 2005, recapping my forty years of motorcycle touring in the American Rocky Mountain West. I have written one Children's Book, 'Sammy & Bumpers' that was published in 2016. All of my books are available at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and better Book Stores world wide. Kurt Philip Behm

Time’s Grip

Trapped inside a wasteland,

dying inch by inch

 

Slave inside a rusted heart,

feelings chained then lynched

 

Later now than yesterday,

earlier than goodbye

 

Spooled like thread that can’t be sewn,

the needle asking why

 

But time contorts, reversing,

trumpets call you home

 

Eyes unspoken, voice untouched,

senses all atoned

 

Words on fire with freedom stirred,

reasons scorched and bare

 

A silence brewing louder,

new light burns through the air

 

Eleven Angels fly as one,

and twelfth, you join their throng

 

With wings now soaring inward

—time’s grip left dead and gone

 

(Airplane To Seattle: March 8, 2017)

 

 

 

Beatified

Prayer without indemnity,

prejudice, or blame,

weaponizing Diety…

a dogma-based refrain

 

Through Him our Divinity

rejoining heart and mind,

to truly know Who reigns supreme

last sacrament defined

 

Religion like the training wheels

discarded when we we’re young,

to free the rider in the wind

—His spokes forever spun

 

(Easter Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

The Reasons Falter

Do you write the words

or do they write you

 

Are the feelings tattered

or something new

 

Do you speak in tongues

or in muted silence

 

Are the moments sacred

or void of credence

 

Do the questions answer

themselves in time

 

Do the phrases mingle

but never rhyme

 

Do the reasons falter

excuse to reign

 

Do the moments linger

—tomorrow framed

 

(Newtown Square Pennsylvania: April, 2022)