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

The Moment Demands

In a distended reality

 the Buddhists were right,

 but pointed they were wrong

 

A metaphor chosen

 to soothe and delight,

 but our choices a different song

 

Transcendent revelation

 a spiritual ideal,

 as today takes its pound of flesh

 

The totality of being

 the noblest of causes

 —when the moment demands no less

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)

Your Eyes Still Closed

 

You left me fifty years ago

 but I still write to you today

 

Feeling those things that never age

 as my thoughts have turned to gray

 

You walked out never looking back

 and left me standing there

 

My heart in pieces, the future gone

 with no one left to care

 

New days have come, old days have gone

 the seasons change and weave

 

But in every memory I see your face

 —your eyes still closed to me

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Only For You

My eyes overloaded

my tongue in duress

 —I have to say I love you in a poem

 

Time of no consequence

my heart in distress

 —as my pen becomes timeless and flowing

 

This moment is yours

its memory mine

—as the lines are unspoken but true

 

To tell you just once

what forever I’ll feel

 —in these words written only for you

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)

Filling My Words

Filling my words with music

 the moment took off and flew

 

All heaven to await its arrival

 the Angels and Sirens in view

 

Filling my words with song

 their spirit released once again

 

The devil to cover his ears

 —the past and future in sin

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)

Where Memories Can Run

I like old people that look old

 and young people that look young

 

Concepts that are original

 laughter and fun

 

I like faces that show character

 and faces that show hope

 

The wrinkles hard earned

 youth and spirit elope

 

I like things that mesh quietly

 and fit into place

 

Ideas that break barriers

 reinventing my space

 

I like old people that look old

 and young people that look young

 

And the bridge built between them

 —where memories can run

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)

 

Memory Exhales

I had to push myself away

To get close enough to touch

Embracing the distance as my friend

So the truth could finally breathe

Creating space for words to form

And their syllables to grow

Reaching beyond by reaching inside

 —as memory exhales

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)

The Fire They Share

There are types of young love

 that must be broken apart

 

For either or both lovers

 to survive

 

Like alcohol to the inferno

 their temperature gets hotter

 

Until nothing is left to share

 except scorched remains

 

With no net to catch them

 they fall into each other

 

Tumbling and hurling

 like a flaming ball

 

A hunger unsated

  devouring their passion

 

Their souls trapped and burning

  —in the fire they share

 

(Westborough Massachusetts: April, 2018)

Waiting For The Muse To Come

My eyes were diverted

my mind taken back

 

Her presence upon me

her breath an attack

 

There’s no sense in running

with no place to hide

 

Although rare in the daylight

her message alive

 

My pen comes out quickly

and drawn like a sword

 

Each word spoken plainly

and pointed toward

 

My life now a capsule

exploding like hail

 

The light towing blindness

the comets new tail

 

Last phrases are written

my senses return

 

I feel her leave slowly

   my pen it still burns

 

I look down at the page

   to see what I wrote

 

The handwriting foreign

familiar once spoke

 

   “Your life but a dream

   between wisps of my breath

 

   “Once spoken inside you

   beyond life and then death”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)