“In God We Trust”

the dollar we must

 

Two-headed coin,

minted unjust

 

“Fides in Deum,”

our fortunes to blame

 

The past purloined

—the future inflamed

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

The

gambler’s

asylum,

a table

waits

in hell

 

Your last card

out,

your first card

in,

aces all

—pray tell

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Satanic delusion,

 pagan confusion,

the darkest illusion

—redeemed by His word

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

Adrenalin…  

 catalyst of fear

and desire

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

The answers

linger in the darkness

 

While questions

shimmer in the light

 

All reasons

alive with expectation

 

Open ended in wonder

—and delight

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

What I meant,

how I said it

 

The meaning sacred

—the words servile

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

The Poetry Channel when open,

its wavelength sharp and clear

Searching for me as it calls for my voice,

in moments dark but dear

 

The Poetry Channel if distant, remote,

streaming above my thoughts

Transmitting in silence, antenna to blame,

whose frequency I’ve sought

 

The Poetry Channel with static tuned out,

 its bandwidth framed in gold

Quiet by day, amplifying at night

—to broadcast time untold

 

(Dreamsleep: November, 2015)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Better to be in Hell

for all eternity,

than in Heaven

—on borrowed time

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

I never chose to write like you,

it’s enough to write like me

My feelings live to shape each thought,

your passion foreign known

I need to use those gifts bequeathed,

while searching endlessly

And leave to you your native tongue

—and speak my words alone

 

(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)

Organizing each word unpenned, 

I gave myself to rhyme

 

And offered up my humble skills

in thankfulness sublime

 

Each one a treasure unto me,

with silence on the run

 

Verses promised and drifting near

—of memories to come

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm