A flash of light,

a cloud of dust,

a joyous moment

beneath the rust

A hearty vision

with silver streaks,

unmasking boyhood

—in memories deep

(Garrett Hill Pennsylvania: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Letting the page breathe,

my pen in its well

The letters enchanted,

recasting their spell

Beginning then ending,

beginning again

Rewriting the master

—their magic amends

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

I can’t draw,

but I paint

I still sin,

but a saint

I talk best

when I’m mute

All I’ve lost

in pursuit

I begin

at the middle

And end

at the start

To give back

to the silence

This thing

—we call art

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

“You’ve got more past than future,”

she said without a smile

“The hours lost will not rewind,

your pendulum beguiled

“You’ve got more past than future,”

the hag said one last time

“Your legacy a broken spring

—whose clock no longer chimes”

(Valley Forge Memorial Bell Tower: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Entrapping the magic,

philosophers moan

Theory after theory,

no meat on the bone

They label and mark,

their didactics retooled

Force feeding their ramble

to dilettante-fools

And when in the end

they are then proven wrong

They slink back to their hollows,

where the vanquished now throng

But a new tier of ‘masters’

has taken their place

To lecture and spiel

—and pontificate

(Baldwin School: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

If being and the world

are one and the same

Then thinking and thoughts

are together to name

With freedom and consciousness

semantically fused

All judgment and will

—symbiotically cued

(Baldwin School: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Verse is but a vehicle

to where my words are bound

The cargo much more precious

than structure that surrounds

The driving force empowered,

hands firm upon the wheel

The road to ever open up

—with all I say and feel

(St. David’s Pennsylvania: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

If we could touch time

or taste a new dream

Awareness exploding,

beyond the extreme

To see every fragrance

or hear every wile

Our senses emboldened

—as memory smiles

(St. David’s Pennsylvania: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Not silver,

not platinum,

and surely not gold

A mind

eager to learn,

something else to behold

More treasured

in essence,

than riches untold

Where a Newton

or Einstein

—begin to unfold

(St. David’s Pennsylvania: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm