Alone while together,

unringing the bell

The darkness enlightened,

new silence to quell

Permissions refusal,

denial admits

The fusion of oneness

—a hit and a miss

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

The fire’s been out for the longest time,

there’s nothing left but ashes

A pathway scorched, escape route torched

—where light now sorely passes

(The New Room: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Embattled here,

entitled there

One flag still flying,

the smoke-filled air

Horizons darken,

as blood runs free

The last man standing

—whose will to be

(Villanova University: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

Competing infinities,

which one to choose

Existential polarities,

exchanging their views

Superpositioned,

anthropic in scope

The tradeoff endemic,

whose difference elopes

Twin parallel universes

push and then pull

Existing in quantum,

the vacuum is full

Symbiotic in concept,

his razor now sharp

As we search for their meaning

—ever lost in the dark

(Villanova University: March, 2021)

Copyright 2021 Kurt Philip Behm

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