I write for the diamonds,
all quartz to be damned
The populace deafened,
and jaded demand
That anything selfish,
their wills to be pawned
My jewels though not many
—sparkle beyond
(The New Room: February, 2021)
I write for the diamonds,
all quartz to be damned
The populace deafened,
and jaded demand
That anything selfish,
their wills to be pawned
My jewels though not many
—sparkle beyond
(The New Room: February, 2021)
Identity
is derivative
of distance
endowed
Space
the Grand Sultan,
its winds
to uncloud
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Is identity a reference
to all that I’m not
or something else again
Is what I’m becoming
and what I am
in contrast clearly plain
Or then is it more
and crossing over
to what I’ve not yet been
The border amorphous
where gravity pulls
—to dance beyond the rim
(Rosemont Pennsylvania: February, 2021)
Truth minus freedom
—equals Academia
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
The wound bleeds free
—that kills the angry heart
(From My Novel: ‘Jumping Into The Darkness’- February, 2021)
Shovel ready verse,
new soil to disturb
Whose well to make deeper
—its draft future heard
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Being, becoming,
though different the same
All motion reflexive,
where time rules the game
Being, becoming,
whose vow is enforced
When married to both
—refusing divorce
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: February, 2021)
“Indians have a saying,” she said
from across the fire…
“Until you have heard the roar
of the bear
—you will not know its heart”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
From My Novel: ‘Revenge Along The War Trail’
Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm
Living a life of isolation…
writing became my friend
Celebrating the day’s events,
fresh names inside my pen
Though others think me lonely,
the truth is far from that
Comrades made with each new word,
in fiction and in fact
But only to a writer
will these thoughts resonate
With voices calling from beyond,
I often can’t abate
And when my world goes silent,
I open once again
An authored book, a friend for life
—my soulmate till the end.
(Beaupre: February, 2021)
Dancing with the devil.
we waltzed across the floor
Past the spot the band was playing,
through the open door
The darkness called to him by name,
he answered with a smile
And looked at me and said: “This way,
damnations forked turnstile”
With one step back, I bid him true,
to leave me on my way
The voices growing louder still,
of those past gone astray
He stopped and said: “You now must jump,
this ledge all sinner’s pass”
And pointed down to the abyss,
the inferno’s deep morass
He looked away, his head was down,
while shouting dark and vile
A chant so foul, demonic born,
my soul at once beguiled
Before he stopped, I took both hands,
and pushed him from behind
And watched him fall into the void,
among his liken kind
Then walking back toward the dance,
I heard the music play
His words to music ringing out,
my spirit disarrayed
Once back inside I looked around,
and watched the dancers flee
And knew at once the way they ran
—that devil now was me
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)