When you speak
to me
a certain way
I can see the words

Shaped and formed
with wings
of gold
freeing what I’ve heard

When you speak
to me
a certain way
I can taste the wind

Calling forth
my hopes and dreams
— tendered from within

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)

Nothing about life is impossible,
viewed while looking up

Nothing about death is reversible,
viewed while looking down

All in between is contestable,
winds blow North and South

Nothing promised, nothing cursed
—the choice to laugh or frown

(Ouray Colorado: October, 1995)

What is the human  
perception of time

If measurement stops
and clocks will not chime

Seconds to minutes,
minutes to hours

Pendulum still
—Big Ben disempowered

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

It’s important
what you get called
has a name,
one you can take
to the ivory
border
It’s important
what you’re called
is remembered the same,
today recollected
tomorrow
reordered
A mark on the stone
no longer
unknown,
your history and
legacy
rendered
Sapphire crystal
overlord set,
the past
eponymous  
the future
—kismet

(The New Room: February, 2021)

People are people
—and a fool is but a fool

(Dreamsleep: March, 2022)

Tonight,
I had a date with the mountain

Tonight,
I made those promises impend

Tonight,
behind the shadow of my fear

Tonight
—the devil smiled at me again

(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)

Bogged down in the details,
truth is undone

Swimming through the corn flakes,
milk overruns

Looking at the forest,
seeing just trees

Life micromanaged
—big picture tease

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Do you have five fingers
without a fist

A hope that lingers
a wanton wish

Do your letters jumble
beneath the words

Does your breath cut off
before it’s heard

Does silence threaten
what can’t begin

With empty horror
begetting sin

Whose grip wraps tightly
o’er digits limp

Your soul indentured
—creation’s gimp

(Dreamsleep: October, 2022)

To understand
deeply
the one to the many

Salvation
unquestioned
the weakest in need

Your heart always
truest
when starting the journey

The sheep
that’s been lost
— where humanity bleeds

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Transmuting the past
denying the future
Reliving the moment
— time after time

(The New Room: March, 2024)

Disco burnout,
fever rampant erosion

Empty glances,
mirrored hollow drums

Bleeding, starving,
passive alertness

Madeup, putdown
—treadmill run

(Woodlands Hotel: Wilkes Barre- January, 1980)

Poetry...
barbell of the written word

Resistance exercise
—for the status-quo

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Oh
to leave all chains
on top
of the mountain

Oh
to leave a world
setting
— everything free

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)

Dancing through
the mine field
deftness parlayed
Destruction incumbent
the future
in play
Each step risks a lifetime
if right
turns to wrong
Tomorrow uncertain
when short
—calls for long

(Dreamsleep: November, 2023)

Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell

Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell

Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned

Not so much
to dream
with sleep
— bereft and gone

(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)

The future hung desperately on to the past,
like a pilot fish to a whale
Swimming through the current of times gone by,
lost moments were impaled
The seconds ticked down, day blacker than night,
intention in denial
As deep in the din, voices cried from within
—eternity on trial

(The New Room: January, 2022)

Surrogate reality,
divorced from what’s real

The news on your cable,
and movies conceal

The brands that you purchase,
the labels you wear

Convince you of something,
the ‘Emperor’ shares

While consciously vacant,
unconsciously lost

The dew on the lilacs,
impermanent frost

Like quicksand it’s calling,
disguised as a beach

Your essence is falling,
and far out of reach

As peacocks left strutting,
unable to fly

Your time ever wasted
—and waving goodbye

(Bryn Mawr College: February, 2021)

When Freedom itself becomes politicized
that
— is the death of America

(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)

Boiling away the edges
letting the core expand
Limitations drifting free
clarity at hand

Horizon coming at me
sky and earth as one
Sunsets in my memory
answers on the run

A token for the master
a pittance bye and bye
Value placed in what is not
scientists decry

My width and breadth immortal
the universe set free
To roam forever in my heart
—your eyes too blind to see

(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: May, 2022)

Not an academic
Poet
Not a tenement
Poet
Not a beat or a blues
or a church Poet
Not a famous or infamous
or celebrity Poet
Not an Irish or Basque
or Welsh Poet

Not a formal
Poet
Not a casual
Poet
Not the kind that takes
to the stage Poet
Not a tenured or membered
or club Poet
Not a for profit or glory
or fame Poet

… just a Poet

(The County Line: April, 2024)

Did you not love, as flame the fire,
when springtime came in view

Your soul to task, no futures past
—the world again anew

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2019)

Altering the future
confirms your existence

In for a penny
—out for a pound

(Amtrak R5: June, 2021)

The house is quiet,
as Knothead’s asleep

Hershey Kisses in place
on the staircase to reap

There’s snow on the roof,
with the chimney unblocked

For Santa to enter,
new soot on his frock

The cookies and milk
on the hearth reappear

With Rudolph’s one favorite,
chocolate chip to endear

The sound of his footsteps
arrive on the roof

As Knothead awakens
to Santa’s reproof

“Get into the sleigh
as I’ve told you before

“TC and Melissa
deserve so much more

“Your mischievous wandering
has caused quite the stir

“Mrs. Claus is upset,
the good Elves much deterred

“And clean up your mess
before we move on

“Those wrappers a danger
to those woe begone”

But as they departed,
the naughty Elf smiled

Two silver reminders
ensconced to beguile

Both hidden in cupboards
for children to find

Christmas 2021
—to forever remind

(Christmas Poem: 12/24/2021)
Backstory:  Knothead is the naughty Elf who has plagued the Behm household for over 40 years at Christmas time.  To catch him, you need to put out Hershey Kisses, so that Santa can follow the trail of wrappers, capture him, and take him back to the North Pole.

Trapped in between the lyric
and music
Wandering in a rhythm
of lost expectation
Blaming each note still unplayed
and unwritten
The echoes distend
in a moment’s undoing

Hearing a chorus
when no choir is present
Voices imagined
to sing my sequester
Wandering aimless
through scores of abandon
Harmony denied me
—nightmarish and deafening

(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)

Let’s cut right through
the bombast ...
your camouflage of words
And redefine
the essence ...
of what you’ve never learned
Your double-talk
pontificates ...
to lure and to distract
Whose lies deride
wherein you hide ...
from what the truth exacts

(The New Room: February, 2025)

Festival Of San Fermin

Running the gamble
— living the dream

(Pamplona Spain: July, 1977)


‘Pathway To Hell ...”

Money is to promises
what bureaucracy is to care
Chasing lost indemnity
— uncertainty’s despair

(Dreamsleep: August, 2024)


The Lost Garden

A bad seed
illy planted
Fallow
—and alone

(Denison Iowa, September, 1967)


Au Chante

The pathway
to happiness
Goes through
—the open heart

(Midway Airport: August, 2024)

Granting myself latitude,
I stretched every word
In substance and context
—the truth to be heard

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

Kneeling
in a confessional
of words
forgiveness wouldn’t come
Absolution
undefined
where beats
— the silent drum

(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)

Numbers have a lasting smell
while figures have a taste
Shapes can make an ancient sound
whose feelings stay untraced    

Intuition grants a wish
to those who rebegin  
Dimension in the blackest hole
new dwarf stars from within

Counting up or counting down
deception stays the same
What you gain or what you lose
redundant in the game

Endings come and endings go
ephemerally despised
Until the sacrificial lamb
—bleats out the final lie

(Dreamsleep: January, 2023)

Violence though not always evil
—the love of violence is

(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)