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The Link

Neurotechnology,

a gift or a bane

 

With thoughts simply neurons,

case structure our brains

 

Is humanity destined

to merely plug in

 

Will all beauty and truth

be a programmer’s whim

 

And what of our history

that starts to rewrite

 

Will all paradox suffer,

conversation contrite

 

From Plato to Sartre,

one thing is the same

 

The essence of man

—will a mystery remain

 

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

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

 

Day Turns To Night

A new century waits as the minutes

 progress

into hours of vestibular begotten memory

 

My thoughts being counted although I

resist,

my feelings in service to what’s left behind

 

The sun and the moon trade in bartered

romance,

each jilting the other as day turns to night

 

Another year is recorded in the serpentine

past,

what’s seen a mirage—what’s measured retained

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

 

 

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

The Lost Baton

…when there’s no one left to protest

…when there’s no one left to blame

…when there’s no one left to target

…when there’s no one left to name

 

…when there’s no one left to barter

…when there’s no one left to pay

…when there’s no one left to reason

…when there’s no one left to pray

 

…when there’s no one left to matter

…when there’s no one left to care

…when there’s no one left believing

…when there’s no one left to share

 

…when no one’s left to pass it on

…when no one’s left unbled

…when no one’s left to sing the songs

—forgotten are the dead

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm