Poems by kurt behm

[kurt behm]

Crashing The Gate

We searched through the desert
for a welcoming sign

But the truth was a grave marker
—our fate so inclined

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)
​

 

[kurt behm]

Sight Incensed

The color of trouble
—the smell of goodbye

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Uncertainties Throne

The power of induction,
truth insecure

Foundations and principles,
whispered demure

We take that next leap
from uncertainties throne

To leverage our doubts
—from what’s presently known

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Time's Harvest

In the land of my once fallow youth,
old phrases bury deep

Where seeds of time regrow the rhyme
—their crop my soul to keep

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Looking Back — Moving On

Are you lost inside nostalgia,
blinded by its call

Self convinced the past is king,
old romance to enthrall

The facts proclaim much different,
in science and the arts

Awareness of what we’ve become,
the most illusive part

What you bought for fifteen dollars,
that CD with thirteen songs

Now can buy the music world,
Ipod’s carry on

The doctor’s diagnosis,
beyond mere life or death

An MRI can then confirm,
and protons will arrest

The scope of human nature,
to hold on and not let go

Ties us to a bill we’ve paid
—resent from long ago

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Guardians Of Tomorrow

All history must we study,
but not enslave ourselves

As we forge on in tribute
—intrepid to foretell

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Spitting In The Wind

Death is not a failing
—only its denial

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Winter's Night

How many sunrises will I see,
how many poems will I write

How many Spring’s to then deceive
—until Autumn surrenders to Winter’s night

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Lifeline

Religion levels the playing field,
money replaced by hope

For those destitute with hills to climb
salvation—heaven’s rope

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Body And Soul

My life is a Poem,
not one chosen line

And travels within me,
each mountain I climb

It dwells symbiotic,
between body and soul

To hearten each moment
—keeping me whole

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Spirit's Transform

Theoretically,
we die from the moment conceived

Functionally,
we die when beset with disease

That space in between…
the land of our dreams

Where spirit’s transform
—our souls to release

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)

​

 

[kurt behm]

Emotional Bondage

Most days writing filler,
the Muse to appease

The words poorly chosen,
no ace up my sleeve

Each phrase a fulfillment,
old promises made

With feelings in Limbo
—my pen to enslave

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Above The Tree Line

Mountains make poor receptacles
for dreams

Oceans are better at that

The elevation reminding of all
that’s forbidden

Primordial—the higher you climb


(Dreamsleep: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Baptism Of Denial

No power
can break a man’s grip
on his own throat

Or offer redemption
with belief
unproclaimed

(Dreamsleeep: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Here But Gone

The present once noted,
is really the past

A thirtieth of a second,
perception if fast

Most people are slower,
the flash that accepts

What our psyche affirms
—now gone and reset

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Hidden Fantasia

Objective, Subjective,
which side of the coin

Will the story end up on,
its truth to purloin

“Dimensional borders”
the physicists scream

As life’s hidden fantasia
—plays out in a dream

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Each Look Back

The persistence of memory
—the dilution of time

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)
​

 

[kurt behm]

Time Bows

When the ages rock,
all divergence reverts to type

And time bows to the inner voice
—of eternity

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

Absence Of Malice

Nothing, is of great value
—when it replaces something bad

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)​

 

[kurt behm]

A Riper Day

Like wine,
Poets age with every year

Tattered labels stained,
vintners unclear

Bordeaux, Merlot, or Cabernet,
words mellow in the dark

Where time ferments a riper day
—its richness to impart

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

To Ken Kesey & Neal Cassady

When you’ve never been lost,
there’s no need to be found

As the self-disenfranchised,
circle around

They question and lecture,
and spew out their grief

To lure you within,
their false broken beliefs

“You really don’t get it, man,”
they sing from their bus

They say “You’re unhip”
and “You need to be us”

The desert of all deserts,
they march to inane

Where a prank on themselves
—waits in drug induced shame

(Villanova, Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Fore & After

Married to only what’s on the page,
each word I wedded

The cheers and accolades silenced,
my vow applauded

Spoken or read each line was reborn,
within the covers

That blanket the fore and after of time
—betrothed to forever

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Doors Lock

Stripped of his future,
outrunning his past

The doors locked within him
—first to the last

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019) ​

 

[kurt behm]

The Deep Emptiness

In the information age,
we know too much about each other
Too much good and too much bad,
that sets our minds to wander
No longer touching what we once loved,
no longer finding what we once held in our arms
No longer listening to the sweet voice of mystery
that charmed the deep emptiness
—which now intervenes

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2020) ​

 

[kurt behm]

Payback

The currency of time
—is blood

(Dreamsleep: January, 2020)​