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

Eternity Has Its Say

“You’re only as strong as your weakest link,”

the Postman said out loud

 

“Space creates room to get lost or expand”

he shouted out so proud

 

True wisdom appears when it chooses the time,

it has always been that way

 

It’s the ear out-of-tune that hears only the wind

—when eternity has its say

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

One Last Dance

My heart stays in Wyoming,

as Montana calls my name

 

My spurs and bits ‘a jingling’

my soul goes north again

 

Cody up through Beartooth Pass,

Cooke City just below

 

The Great Divide off to my left,

the glaciers ringed with snow

 

I stop to mourn the western tribes,

as dark clouds form above

 

The war call of Tasunka-Witko,

crying out with love

 

My spirit loose to roam the land,

the great Oglala’s words I hear

 

Two kindred souls in one last dance

 —as Wakan Tanka draws us near

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

To Finish Her Song

Polymath Siren,

her flower returns

 

New stirrings to write

new melody to learn

 

Renaissance memory,

its present announced

 

Freeing your psyche,

past-future recount

 

Polymath harlot,

love pledged again

 

Petals now varied,

spread from within

 

Bouquet filled enigma,

here until gone

 

Leaving always one seedling

—to finish her song

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Five Strangers

Five strangers walked into my dream,

arm in arm, all different versions

of my deceased mother

 

They looked at me one by one,

with that look—her look,

that had been gone for so long

 

The first whispered to the second,

then the second to the third,

as the fourth and fifth just shook their heads

 

I tried to look away, but their presence

followed, and my eyes were frozen

in the judgment they proclaimed

 

My sleep now haunted by what I once knew,

a maternal affliction that my memory had cured

—returning again to infect my dreams

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)