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395 · Mar 24
Falling On His Sword
Man often kills  
that thing he loves
Dying inside it
— when push comes to shove

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
394 · Mar 2017
Falling Leaves
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Falling leaves mark the beginning
of natures fast . . .
Winter is coming

Hear her icy bell blowing distance
through your memory,
as trees half naked
spot the ground with clearer vision

“Oh alas, the winds of autumn run
captive through my soul,
And place the stones in order
spring doth disavow

Whose cold reprieve an answer grants
in frosted shortened light,
To spread new life upon this breast,
—and natures womb”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 1977)
394 · Aug 2016
To Light The Spoken Air
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2016
Thoughts inflame as feelings stir
Words simmering yet to boil
Unspoken sparks drift through the night
A pyre still to burn

Delphian in its natural form
The smoke a treacherous friend
As ink rekindles and lies cremate
The mind, its woods on fire

As heat restores the human soul
All prodigals return
With hope to melt the frozen dawn,
—and free the poet’s hand

The verses stacked and dried of doubt
Their ignition up to you
As dark they wait for your next breath
To light the spoken air

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)
393 · Nov 2023
Beyond The Shadows
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2023
Outwriting
insecurity
each word
tears down the wall
Endorsing
his humanity
thoughts into feelings
fall
The truth
beyond the shadows
unspoken
in the light
Waiting
for a voice set free
that makes it
—through the night

(The New Room: November, 2023)
391 · Nov 2021
Crossroads
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2021
Winning and learning
or
losing and dying
a choice made
exclusive
—the moment undone

(The New Room: November, 2021)
390 · Feb 2022
F- Stop
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2022
Only a photograph
can truly stop time
framed in remembrance
—forever sublime

(Dreamsleep: February, 2022)
390 · Apr 2017
The Reckoning
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
The vision intrudes,
  stealing ink from my pen

A thief in the night,
—leaving words that portend

A warning’s been given,
   its mantle thrown down

But truth will speak over,
—what darkness avows

(Villanova Pennsylvania:  April, 2017)
389 · Apr 2019
Goodbye Laura
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2019
Divorcing the Muse,
  her property demands were high

The alimony my insight,
  leaving me speechless, high and dry

Once the papers were signed,
  it was the last I was to write

Visitation denied
   —monthly support payments in light

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
389 · Nov 2018
Shared Light
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2018
Let others inside you
  as reflection begins

Your truth like a mirror
  that calls from within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)
389 · Jul 2021
Last Teardrop
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2021
The secret unlocked,
to stay or to leave

Each mystery unsolved
—a memory bereaved

(Dreamsleep: July, 2021)
388 · Jul 2023
Last Domino
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2023
When does pursuing knowledge
become undone
Letting intuition
take over the day

Why does raw intelligence
die zero sum
Factually blinded
—last domino played

(The New Room: July, 2023)
388 · May 2017
Damnation Still Unrhymed
Kurt Philip Behm May 2017
With verse in debt to time enslaved,
  its prophecy of doom

Whose curse to sling like darts and arrows,
  destined for the tomb

All words in red, as blood they drip,
  from wounded hearts and minds

My breath to scorch with fire and salt,
—damnation still unrhymed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
388 · Nov 2023
10X
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2023
10X
Viewed from a distance
—we all fade to insignificance

(Dreamsleep: November. 2023)
387 · Mar 2017
Thrice Denied
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Searching through the forest,
  chasing dreams your sleep abandoned

And losing yourself in the mindless
  spatial distance

You play two handed poker
  with the devil of the night

The Prince holding only one card,
  as you gamble it all…

Forever promising:
“This hand will be your ticket out”

He relays his wagered truth,
  with a baton of shattered tears

But time recovers,
  the present firing upon the night

Hitting it at last dead center,
  the debris now quicksand

Drowning the last excuse
  of your bloodless past refusals

Salvation now in full retreat,
  —all exits thrice denied

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
387 · Sep 2018
Death But A Servant
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2018
Making love to the Muse
  newborns fell upon the page

And we named them one by one
  as we lined them up by age

Making love to the Muse
  a new progeny was spawned

With death now but a servant
  —and each child turned to song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Archangel Of War To Prowl The Skies,
—Winged Messenger Of Death

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
385 · May 2022
In Debt To Tomorrow
Kurt Philip Behm May 2022
The encumbrance of peace
is war
Silence remortgaged
—as payments begin

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
383 · Apr 2021
Thank You Dr. Spock
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2021
Over parenting…
the child undone

A cardinal sin
—lost millennium

(Dreamsleep: April, 2021)
382 · Dec 2016
A Waterfall Unheard
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
I rode the feeling
  down a running stream,
      — to the river of no return

And cast my fate
  into the current's wake,
     — toward a waterfall unheard

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
382 · Sep 2022
Looking Down
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2022
What is it you know
what does anyone know…
The sand through your fingers
the wind through the years
Last season unturned
the snows of our summer
The answers autumnal
—the valley below

(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
382 · Jul 2018
Billy Blue
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2018
Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
Your world’s a mess
There’s nothing new

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
Your sheep are shorn
Your flower’s few

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
Your time now warps
In shades of grey

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
That choice you made
To run away…

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
Your worship hollow
An empty pew

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
Your time insolvent
Your memories few

Billy Blue
Billy Blue
Last dice to roll
Snake eyes stare back

Billy Blue
Billy Blue,
The reaper knocks
—your fate unlatched

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)
382 · Sep 2022
The Pendulum Stops
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2022
When what in essence changes
the ground beneath you shakes
No longer can you take for granted
four plus four is eight

When daylight turns to madness
each shadow undermines
What faith has borne and left forlorn
—clocks no longer chime

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: September, 2022)
379 · Dec 2023
Knowing Is Believing
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2023
If your heart
stops
Does consciousness
die
What life
connected
Can
death untie
Forever
a concept
As still
unproved
No one
to comment
Who’s left
—the room

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
378 · Mar 26
Blowback
Saying
something witty
while having nothing
to say

Is like
spitting in the wind
to stay out
— of the spray

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
377 · Aug 2018
A Promise Forgotten
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2018
Are you the hero of your own
  dime novel

Are you the toy at the bottom
  of the ******* jacks box

Are you the name on the wall
  of the public bathroom

Are you the saline solution
  they use to detox

Are you that groove in the record
  that repeats over again

Are you a promise forgotten
  carried off by a friend

Are you a serial spectator
  whose ticket’s not punched

Are you a banquet disaster
  in search of your lunch

Is your mirrored reflection
  left empty and cold

Is the one option left you
  —forlorn but foretold

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2018)
377 · Jun 2022
Summa Mater
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2022
The Ocean has no conscience,
no judgment, joy, or hate

She dances with you to her beat
in stirring waves of fate

With reverence you may enter
all blessings on the day

But just one slip and she reminds
what ancient mariners say…

“Red sky at morning, sailors take warning
red sky at night, sailors delight”

Her message best taken when early to bed
life in the balance, her power to dread

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: June, 2022)
377 · Jul 2023
Day By Day
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2023
The only thing permanent  
about peace
—is impermanence

(Dreamsleep: July, 2023)
376 · Apr 2022
Vintage Love
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2022
A bottle of you was not enough,
I needed the whole case
With every drop and fragrance let,
uncorking my embrace

To deeply breathe your sweet perfume
and drown in nectars dew
I try to sip but lose myself
—inside your vineyard true

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: April, 2022)
375 · Nov 2016
The Cloak Of Forgiveness
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2016
With death on the floor,
  he tried to hang up his salvation

But the coat hook to eternity
  was full

The closet door to redemption,
   now locked from the inside

The cloak of forgiveness,
—for someone else to wear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
374 · Dec 2016
A Dual Birth
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Tears of sorrow,
  tears of joy

Conjoin together,
  laughter’s toy

Tears of sadness,
  tears of mirth

Their wellspring one,
—a dual birth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
373 · Mar 2017
What Conscience Is To Shame
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Joplin was to Southern Comfort,
  what Hendrix was to smack
Morrison was to masquerade,
  what Dylan never lacks

Woodstock was to 69,’
  what music was to time
Saigon was to those who stayed,
  what Auschwitz now reminds

Kennedy was to hopes and dreams,
  what nightmares were to some
Castro was to leftist thugs,
  what cymbals are to drums

Kissinger was to Nixon
  what Canada was to home
Dr. King to civil rights,
  what kings are to their thrones

Walter Cronkite was to news,
  what intention was to fact
Altar boys were to Priests,
  what pretzels are to snacks

58,000 were to die,
  what a wall was to proclaim
58,000 were to all,
  what conscience is to shame

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
373 · Jan 2021
Mesa Verde
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2021
No one’s ever gone
until forgotten

Their memory etched
like words in stone

—canyons to remind

(Chama New Mexico: January, 2019)
372 · Dec 2016
Heavens To Own
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Some will then tell,
  still others describe

Those feelings of bliss,
  those hearts that decry

Each new phrase bringing life,
  to words once alone

With a meaning immortal,
—now heavens to own

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
372 · Dec 2022
The Gift Of Futures Past
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2022
Bigger in my memory
smaller in my inclination
Regret a distant calling card
admonishing my name

Vacant in my recollection
bedded in my hopefulness
Joy a future invitation
—Heaven to proclaim

(Christmas Wishing: First Book Of Prayers- December, 2022)
370 · Mar 2018
Harlem To Cannes
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2018
Those living in Harlem
want to move to Midtown

The people in Midtown,
to the Upper West Side

The Upper West Side,
to the Long Island Shore

The Long Island Shore,
to Aspen or Vail

Aspen or Vail,
to the Champs Elysees

The Champs Elysees,
to the beaches in Cannes

People will search for where
life can begin

A place that remains distant
and far out of reach

An excuse to look outward
and not in themselves

Theirs souls left in turmoil
—their hearts not at rest

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
369 · Apr 2017
Dogwood Goodbye
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
Deep in the woods I buried a flower
Far below the leaves and scattered bark
And planted a wish that Spring might grant me
Fearing by May all would be dark

Through the snow of a fading winter
A twisted sprig broke toward the sky
Carved on its trunk were tiny letters…
“The gate’s now open—your time to fly”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
369 · Apr 2024
The Wind Cries Mary
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2024
Jimi’s grand apology
hidden in the words
In lyrics of his soul’s lament
Mary’s name is heard

The Jacks are in their boxes
as midnight plays its chord
Music sighing whispers red
—  Queen still untoward

(The New Room: April, 2024)
368 · Jul 2017
To Finish This Song
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2017
What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many hearts have you broken
How many lies have you told
How many days have been wasted
How many sorrows have been shared
How many promises have been made
How many strangers did you love

What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many deserts have you roamed
How many times have you been lost
How many friends can you count on
How many enemies still fear you
How many lines need to be written
—to finish this song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)
367 · Jan 2017
All Pieces Again Whole
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
Drifting off untethered,
  I was caught by my soul

Redirected into providence,
—all pieces again whole

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2024
It was January 4th 1778, and once again the General had not slept well. He rose before dawn and as was his practice, he wandered down to the southern banks of the Schuylkill River.  Valley Forge had been particularly cold since New Year’s Day, and he was awaiting any word about new supplies being smuggled out from the friends his Army still had in Philadelphia.

The Congress had recently been moved and sheltered in York which was about seventy miles due West of his current position in Valley Forge.  The British had taken Philadelphia and were rumored to be encamped in the heart of the city.  Many residents had fled the Capitol just before the British arrived.  Fresh off their success at the Battle of Brandywine, they did not receive the warm welcome that they were expecting when they entered the city.  According to European standards, when you capture the capitol city of your enemy, the war is then over.  The problem with Philadelphia however was that this was not Europe — and Washington was no ordinary General.

Standing alone by the river’s bank, the General thought he saw something move in the tall grass to his right.  His first instinct was to draw his cap and ball pistol, but for a reason unexplained, he did not.  He called out in the direction of the movement, but no sound was heard.  As he turned to walk back to his tent, he saw a branch move and heard the same sound again.  Slowly, a figure about six feet tall emerged from the river brush.  As he walked slowly toward where the General now stood, it was clear this was no combatant, either Colonial or British — this was an Indian.

He walked directly up to the now still Washington and extended his hand.  He said his name was Tamani, and he and his people were living on three of the islands located in the middle of the Schuylkill River about two miles East of where they were now. The Lenape were a branch of the Delaware Tribe that had originally migrated South from Labrador.  They had populated almost all of southeastern Pennsylvania and especially those lands that bordered the Delaware River.  

The British had inflicted tremendous cruelty on the Lenape during their march toward Philadelphia and had driven the entire tribe from almost all of their ancestral lands.  The Colonists had been much kinder and had in fact been interacting peacefully with the Lenape back to the time of William Penn.

Tamani spoke very good English, and General Washington knew how to ‘sign.’  Sign was the universal language spoken by almost all of the indian tribes and was conveyed with a complex series of hand gestures.  After Tamani saw that the General could understand his words, he discontinued his ‘signing.’  Tamani told the great American leader that his people had been driven from their native lands along the banks of the Delaware and were now in hiding inside the treeline of three remote islands just a short distance down the Schuylkill.  

They would leave and go ashore every night to hunt pheasant and deer but always be back before dawn so the British scouts would not discover them.  Tamani was bitter and angry about what the British had done to his people, and he was also upset that the British had commandeered many of the Colonists homes in the city. The displaced were now living in rustic shacks along the banks of both the Delaware and Schuylkill Rivers, and many of these Colonists were his friends.

General Washington asked Tamani if he had seen any British troops in the last several days.  Tamani said he had not and in fact had not seen any Red Coats any further west than Gladwyne or Conshohocken.   Washington asked Tamani how he could know this for sure.  Tamani said that he and his two sons knew of all British troop movements because there was a secret path on the other side of the river that ran all the way from Valley Forge to the falls at Gray’s Ferry.  Gray’s Ferry is where the British had a built a bridge that floats (Ferry) across the river this past winter, and it was their primary way to cross into the city from all directions South.

Washington was more than intrigued.  He asked Tamani how many members of his tribe knew about this secret trail.  Tamani said just he and his two sons.  Tamani had two sons and a daughter by his wife Wasonomi, but only the two boys had been down the 17-mile trail that paralleled the river on the far bank.  He also said that the trail could not be seen from the water because it was so heavily covered with native Sassafras and Poplars.

The dense brush made the northern bank impossible to see from either a boat or when viewed from a quarter mile away on the southern shore.  By keeping this trail a secret — Washington thought to himself — even the Indians knew that loose words sometimes trump the loudest canon.

Washington told Tamani that the only information he had received was from the few brave horse mounted scouts that had tried to infiltrate the city at night. They would then flee before morning with whatever local knowledge the remaining loyalists to the revolution could provide.  Lately, he had been losing more men than had been returning.  

Tamani told the General that by using the trail, he could pass totally unseen into the city on any night and return along the same route without the British noticing.  From where the trail ended at Grays Ferry, he and his oldest son had climbed the tall poplars and watched British troop movement both in and around the city.  The General now extended his own hand to Tamani and said: I need you to do something for me.

I need you to take me along this path and show me what you have seen. Tamani stood frozen for a moment as if he didn’t believe his own ears.  Here was the Great General of the American Army, the greatest general that he had ever heard of, wanting to make the 17-mile trip to Philadelphia virtually alone and unprotected by his troops.  Washington also told Tamani that he could tell no one of his plan.  

To ensure this, General Washington took the plume from his Tricorn Hat and presented it with great ceremony to Tamani.  He said: Tamani,  you and I are now brothers, and we must keep between us what only brothers know.  Tamani sensed the importance of the moment and handed Washington a small pouch from the breechcloth he was wearing.  Inside was the Totem of his family’s ancestry.  It was a small stone with a Turtle inscribed on one side and a spear on the other.  The General took the stone in both of his hands and placed it over his heart.  Both men agreed to meet again along the river’s bank at dawn of the second day.

For most of two days, Washington thought about his narrow escape at Brandywine and how these British had menaced him all along the Delaware River to this isolated field so far from where he wanted to be.  He had heard from one of his own scouts that there was British dissension within some of Howe’s troops, but he wanted to see firsthand what he might be facing.  At daybreak on the second day, he walked to the riverbank again.  This time he again saw no life or activity only a small fox with her yearling kits heading down the steep bank to drink.  

After twenty minutes, the General turned to walk away when he heard a whistle coming from the same bush as before.  He approached cautiously and there stood Tamani, but he was not alone.  He had two young men with him that looked to be about a year apart in age.   These are my two Sons, Miquon and Yaqueekhon, Tamani said, as he pointed downriver.  It is just the three of us who know the way along the river that leads to where your enemy sleeps.  Washington greeted both young braves by touching them on both shoulders and then turned to Tamani and said:.  I would like to take the path to the British, and I would like to take it tonight.

Tamani said that he and his two sons would be ready and waiting and that they could leave as soon as the sun was down.  Washington said he would like to leave earlier than that and that he would meet them where the river turns when it is the deer’s time to drink.  During the winter months that would roughly be 4:00 in the afternoon.   With that, the three native men turned away and disappeared into the trees.

Tonight, Washington would alert his men that he would be working and then sleeping at the Isaac Potts House, (better known as Washington’s Headquarters), instead of in his field tent which was his usual practice. He needed to be alone so he could slip away unnoticed along Valley Creek to where the Schuylkill turned and where he would then meet his three new friends.

The General had been spending most of his nights with his troops sleeping in his field tent high atop Mount Joy.  It was here that he was provided with the best views to the east toward Philadelphia.  He had felt guilty about sleeping in the big stone headquarters with the comfortable bed and fireplace for warmth when so many of his men froze.  Tonight though, there would be no sleep and no guarantee of what the morning might bring.  

With all the risk and challenge set before him, he approached it like every battle he had fought up until now.  This would be a fight for information and one that just possibly might allow him to formulate a timetable and a plan for his next attack.  He lit the candle in his bedroom window — as was his practice — and locked the door from the outside.  He then slipped out the side door of the big stone house and headed for the bank. It was now 3:45 in the afternoon and already starting to get dark.

As the General arrived at the bend in the river he saw two canoes pulled up on the bank and covered with branches of pine.  Standing off in the trees, about fifty feet from the two craft, were Tamani and his two sons.  Tamani greeted Washington as his brother.  He explained that they would take the two small boats downriver for what the whites called five miles, and then cross to the other side to begin their walk.

Washington was in a canoe with the older of Tamani’s two sons Miquon.  They paddled quietly for over an hour until Tamani ‘signed’ back something that Miquon quickly understood. From where they were now, on the right (south) side of the river, he signaled for them to head directly across the Schuylkill to the bank on the far side.  This was what the Delaware Tribe had always referred to as Conshohocken.  

As they reached the far bank, Tamani’s two sons quickly hid the canoes in the underbrush.  As Washington started to walk toward Tamani, Miquon took a satchel out of the first canoe and handed it to the General.  For your feet, said Miquon.  Washington opened the satchel and found a large pair of Indian leggings with Moccasins attached at the bottom.  These will help you to walk faster, said Tamani, as Washington sat on a log, removed his boots, and strapped them on.  In two more minutes, the four men were walking east on the hidden trail just ten feet from the north bank of the Schuylkill River.  They had 12 miles still to go, and the surrounding countryside and river were now almost totally covered in darkness.

I say almost, because there were a few flickering lights from lanterns on the far southern bank.  The four men listened for sounds, but heard nothing, as the lights faded and then disappeared as they progressed downstream.  Miquon told his father that they needed to get to the British War Dance before the moon had passed overhead (roughly midnight), and his father grunted in agreement.  Washington wondered what this British War Dance could possibly be but figured that he would wait for a more appropriate time to ask that question.

For two hours, the four men walked in silence.  The only sounds that any of them heard were the breathing of the man in front and the ripples from the approaching current.  The occasional perch that jumped in the dark while hunting for food kept them alert and vigilant as they continued to visually scan the far bank. The going was slow in many places, but at least the terrain was flat and well worn down.  Someone used this path on a regular basis, and the General couldn’t help but wonder not only who that might be but when they had last used it.

Tamani stopped by a large clump of rocks at the river’s edge and reached behind the smallest of the boulders.  He pulled out a well-worn leather satchel and laid it on the ground in front of the other three men.  Miquon reached inside and handed a small ball which was lightly colored to the General.  Pinole, Miquon said as he placed it within Washington’s open hand. Pinole, you eat, Miquon said again.  Tamani looked at the slightly perplexed General and said, Pinole, it’s ground corn meal and good for energy, you eat!  With that, the General took a bite and was surprised that the taste was better than he had expected.  

They lingered for no longer than five minutes on the trail and were again quickly on their way.  Washington marveled at the speed and efficiency of his Indian guides and again thought to himself: "The Indian Nations would have been very hard to beat if they could ever have come together as one force.  We could learn much from them."

The moon was almost directly overhead when Tamani raised his right arm directing the others behind him to stop.  There were lights up ahead and voices could now be heard in the distance.  Tamani told the General: One more mile to ferry crossing.  With that they proceeded at a much slower pace while increasing the distance between each man.  Tamani and Miquon had made this trip many times, but this was the first time that Yaqueekhon had been this far.  For Washington, the feeling of being back in his beloved Capitol, coupled with his hatred of the British, had his senses at a high level.  He felt an acute awareness overtake him beyond that of any previous experience.

Looking across the river toward ‘Grays Ferry’ reminded Washington of the many times he had played along the Rappahannock River in Virginia as a boy.  He moved to ‘Ferry Farm’ in Virginia when he was still young and when his father Augustine had become the Managing Partner of the Accokeek Iron Furnace.  Those days along the Rappahannock were some of the happiest of his life, and he secretly longed for a time when he could mindlessly wander a river’s banks once again — but not tonight!

Miquon now pointed to a tall clump of trees directly ahead.  They were right along the river’s edge and there were large branches that protruded out as much as twenty feet over the water.  Tamani said: We climb.

From this location, the four men climbed two different trees to a height of over forty feet.  Once situated near the top they secured their packs, looked off toward the North, and waited.  From this position they could clearly see Market Street and all of the comings and goings in the center of town.  Washington noticed one thing that gave him pause … he didn’t see any British soldiers.  Tamani told the General in a hushed tone that almost all of the soldiers were in German’s Town (Germantown) with only a small detachment left in the center of the city for sentry duty and to watch.

Why Germantown Washington asked?  This had been the site of our last battle, and he was surprised more troops had not been positioned in the center of town to protect the Capitol.  Too much food and drink, Tamani said.  It took Washington a minute to process the words from before. The British War Dance.  The Indians also had a sense for satire and irony.

                               The British Had Been Celebrating

Is it possible, the General wondered, that the British could still be celebrating their last victory at the Battle of Germantown, and could they have let the King’s military protocol really slip that far? Washington knew that General Howe was under extreme criticism for his handling of the war so far, and there were rumors that he might now be headed back to England to defend himself before parliament.

                                    When The Cat’s Away …

Washington’s impression of what he was now facing immediately changed.  He believed he was now charged with defeating a British force that had tired and lost faith in the outcome of the war.  In their minds, if capturing the new American Capitol had not turned the tide, and men were willing to freeze and starve in an isolated woods rather than surrender, then this cause was almost certainly lost. In that mood they decided to party and celebrate in a fait accompli.

                           A Revolutionary ‘Fait Accompli

For three more hours, they observed Philadelphia in its vulnerable and seemingly de-militarized state.  Many of the houses were empty as the residents had left when the outcome of the Battle of Brandywine was made known.  Washington closed his eyes, and he could see Mr. Franklin walking down Market Street and talking with each person that he passed.  He then saw a vision from deep inside of himself showing that this scene would be recreated soon.  The British couldn’t last in the demoralized state that they were now in. He knew now that it was more important than ever, for he and his men, to make it through the rest of the long cold winter, and into the Spring campaign of 1778.

Washington signaled to Tamani that it was time to go.  Before he left, he asked if he could borrow the Chief’s knife.  After climbing down the big poplar, he walked around to the side of the tree that was facing Philadelphia and inscribed these immortal words  — WASHINGTON WAS HERE!

All the way back along the trail, Washington was a different man than before.  If he had ever had any doubts about the outcome of the war, they were now vanished from his mind.  He asked Tamani and his two sons if they would continue to monitor the trail for him on a weekly basis.  They said that they would,and would he please keep their secret about being encamped on the three islands in the middle of the Schuylkill River.  They also pledged their help as scouts, in the coming spring campaign, against what was left of the British.

Washington pledged both his secrecy and loyalty to the Lenape Tribe and continued to meet with Tamani along the banks of Valley Creek until the winter had finally ended.  The constant updating of information that Washington had originally seen with his own eyes allowed him to formulate a plan that would drive the British from the America’s forever.  He was forever grateful to the Lenape people, and together they kept a secret that has remained unknown to this very day.

With all the rumors of where he slept, or where he ate, there is one untold rumor that among Native People remains true.  Along a dark frozen riverbank, in the company of real Americans, the Father of Our Country stalked the enemy. And in doing so …

                                            He walked !



Kurt Philip Behm
366 · Apr 2017
The Wolf Unleashed
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
I don’t have to slay the dark,
  my verse, the wolf unleashed

I don’t have to court the devil,
  my words a sword unsheathed

I can live beneath the sun,
  with days both clear and bright

Or sleep beneath the crescent moon,
—my poetry to fight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
365 · May 2019
To Never Explain
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
Within every verse,
  many meanings reside

The reader determines
  in which couplet you hide

The words both descriptive
  with colors aglow

The eyes as important
  as what the ears know

When backed in a corner,
  don’t ever explain

Words beckon discovery,
  refusing one name

The same reader may leave
  with a differing view

Each time he goes over
  and finds something new

A question once opened
  can never be closed

And verse penned inherent
   forever to know

With time of no consequence,
  your poetry waits

For the next searching pilgrim
  —your words to relate

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
362 · Jan 2019
The Wages Of Sin
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
A late night deposit
  from my spirit to my soul

A transfer without interest
  all currency stole

The bank’s main door won’t open,
  the drive-thru is dark

The side door unlocked
  with the hallway unmarked

The clerk’s eyes on fire,
  as she asks me my name

“It’s there on the check”
  I repeat in refrain

“Your last transaction I see,
  we’ll be losing you now

“This account to be closed
  —take the elevator down”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
362 · Dec 2023
Last Sayonara
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2023
Smell
the most
precious
and last sense
to go

Its
lingering
fragrance
vanishing
slow

A
single
carnation
a bright
yellow rose

Through
deafness
and darkness
till death  
—wafting so

(The New Room: December, 2023)
362 · Mar 2017
Wings Of A Prayer
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
A song more than a verse,
  thoughts more than they say

A wish lost in the fall,
  recaptured in May

Love more than a feeling,
  all heaven to share

Last word redelivered,
—on wings of a prayer

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
362 · Feb 2023
Life Ring
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2023
Trapped in the moment
escaping with rhyme
Words to my rescue
—time after time

(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)
361 · May 2017
Their Contrail
Kurt Philip Behm May 2017
Try as I might,
  to hide from the words

Distant and fleeting,
  they still can be heard

The nouns are a kite,
  lone verb as the tail

Flying within me,
  my heart their contrail

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
360 · Jan 2019
To Leapfrog All Paradox
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
Are you a ****** being
  if you choose to remain celibate

Are you famous or forgotten
  if you live in a cave

Are you democrat or republican
  if you’re never to vote

Are you black or white
  in the eyes of the blind

Are you young or old
  in the heart of a child

Are you rich or poor
  when everything’s gone

Are you healthy or sick
  when the gallows claim you

Are you guilty or innocent
  when the crime is absolved

Are you friend or foe
  as the last man to fall

Are you committed or unsure
  when the questions retract

Can you find what’s been hidden
  with the object removed

Can you cry out in silence
  when the noise overuns

Can you travel in place
  to unknown destinations

Can you swear to the Lord
  with all prophecy in doubt

Can you still love your children
  when no longer their father

Can you leapfrog all paradox
   —to find your way home

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
359 · Mar 2021
Achfary Highland
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2021
Fear came in numbers,
bravery stood alone

The battle intrepid
—glory atoned

(Scottish Moors: September, 1978)
358 · Feb 2017
Still To Run
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2017
Your page now short on substance,
  yet colorful the rhyme

The words used in abundance,
  where lesser might define

Intention slave to beauty,
  all meaning zero sum

Pageantry lost in the wind,
—your blood left still to run

(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)
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