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

A False Infinity

Is your memory a circle,

or a trip straight out and back

 

A beginning and an ending,

or one continuous track

 

Do you see the same things going up,

that you pass when coming down

 

Is retention sealed and programmed,

by things going round and round

 

Without an ending where you stop,

or perhaps just one last verse

 

You rewind backwards to square one,

the past again rehearsed

 

This flux of motion holds you tight,

your perception never free

 

Serving both to mislead and to lie

—in a false infinity

 

(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)

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)

Heaven Sent

Wrapped inside a moment,

reasons tied the bow

 

Excuses thrown into the trash,

where wasted pleadings go

 

The gift of time majestic,

when given free of tense

 

A present there beneath your tree

—its treasure heaven sent

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2019)

Twin Fathers

Clapton at the ‘Crossroads,’

virtuoso running free

 

Winwood pounding ‘I’m A Man,’

his genius at the keys

 

Tonight inside the ‘Garden,’

time stopped as God decreed

 

Twin fathers back together

—the ‘Blues’ their history

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Life Below

Not free, not wise, not kind, not loved,

and tethered to the past

 

Unwilling to admit the truth,

he met his match at last

 

His Muse had warned time and again,

a reckoning was near

 

His eyes to close, his voice to mute,

beyond his greatest fear

 

Unsung, unwanted, lost, alone,

his nights became his days

 

His abrogation to regret,

the price all sinners pay

 

If just one chance to then go back,

and take that other road

 

The dark would pass, the light return

—and end his life below

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)