The bark of my knowing
is rotting away
With grain left exposing
what memory betrays
Those things I pushed outward
root deeply within
As the oldest of wood
—makes the best violin
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
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
Broken Free
I’m not asking for approval,
that belongs to time
The spoken words I cherish most,
to you seem out of rhyme
I’m not asking for acceptance,
my muse rejects your praise
In darker moments light is found
—your comments weakly phrased
(The New Room: December, 2021)
“My God”
Why does your religion
have to disfavor mine
To speak to its converts
and prattle Divine
Foundations this slanted
are poised for a fall
Appeasing their zealots
who follow and maul
More killed by religion
in His holy name
Than famine and pestilence
ever can claim
The tenets left foreign
to God’s true intent
Epiphanies barren
—all grace to relent
(Villanova University: December, 2021)
Braden’s Song
“You may be declared the winner, Papa
—but you never beat the game”
(Grandson: Glastonbury Connecticut: November, 2021)
Creation’s Tears
In the beginning God cried…
He cried for His fallen Angel
and He cried for His Son
His tears forming the great rivers and oceans
His sighs the vast deserts
His pain the tall mountains
His light from the darkness
His love the first garden upon which we sinned
—in the beginning God cried
(Ronald McDonald House: December, 2021)
Coup D’etat
Fashioned in enameled vacancy,
the gentry’s veil was pierced
Exposed unclean, all vices seen,
through fury sharp and fierce
The folly of their blasphemy,
whose cover all but blown
With blood to flow from ramparts high
—once driven from the throne
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
Tone Death
Waiting for the music,
naked and alone
the words become orphans,
unsung and unknown
The letters in limbo,
each phrase nether blown
with melody absent
—the magic disowned
(Rosemont College: December, 2021)
Angel In Waiting
What stirs within the buried heart,
what lies beneath the whim
What Seraphim have yet to pray,
what sinners yet to sin
What hides within those thoughts that stray,
what leaf remains unturned
What stirs within the buried heart,
what voice unclaimed—unheard
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
‘Tribute To Thomas Wolfe’
Key To The Kingdom
The riches of anonymity,
the poverty of fame
All treasure in what freedom brings
—myself unknown to claim
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
‘Tribute To J.D. Salinger
Irradiance
Why do you need a ladder
when you’re holding the sun,
the light deep within you
—transcendence begun
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
An Anthology Of Perception 