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Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
The truth came flying out of the mirror,
  its reflection veracious and new

And left without warning, my emptiness torn,
  heading back to a place out of view

Driving into my eyes an image so clear,
  its talon’s spread open and honed

But on wings of silver, it returned fulfilled,
  my spirit soaring—free and atoned

(Southwest Flight Las Vegas-Philadelphia: January 27, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2018
Withdrawing from the Rat Race,
  my fortune reappeared

The fog now gone, all clouds pulled back
  —direction free and clear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2024
No longer a captive
and free of the beast
the monster
walks alone
Into the abyss
of self-destruction
stalking  
a new home
Living no longer
in a black
and white world
all colors have returned
Tomorrow rewelcomed  
the past
on fire
— bad memories left to burn

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)
Real education
starts
when the university
fades
in your rearview mirror
Its nihilistic
narrative
disappearing
in the mist
Umbilically
the ties
are cut
as light
comes rushing in
The wax of
dead
banal professors
— melting in the past

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2022
Love entitled
hate defaults
—buying back the time

(Dreamsleep: July, 2022)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2023
Let go of your
hand grip
let go of
the past
Take fate as
a lover
betrothed
and recast
Your belt
and suspenders
restrict
and constrain
Release
your indemnity
free
—once again

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2020
A Poets gathering...
party of one

The darkness invited
—words zero sum

(Dreamsleep: January, 2020)
Nothing
more precious
than freedom

Nothing
sings louder
than praise

Nothing
more honored
than courage

Nothing
burns hotter
than rage

Nothing
escaping
the moment

Nothing
becomes
what it’s not

Nothing
can be
uncreated

Nothing
released
— till it’s caught

(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2021
Writers…
gatekeepers to the past
—prophets of tomorrow

(The New Room: June, 2021)
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2024
Oh
to leave all chains
on top
of the mountain

Oh
to leave a world
setting
— everything free

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2020
Searching,
I look for words to free the song

The music,
already playing inside my soul

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2008)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
Searching for,
not running from

My mind clear
—and spirit free

(Page Arizona: July, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2019
I’ve lived just enough
to die instilled

My history paid
—all debts fulfilled

(Dreamsleep: October, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2018
The night in riches
  my vault again full

The words overflowing
  old debts now annulled

The stillness a fortune
  its quiet sublime

The meaning unmortgaged
   —a poem divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2023
Caught within a dying art form
a lyricist passed by
(saying)
“Music is my lord and master
it makes the phrases fly”

Writing lines of words unwedded
the ink once dry is set
Time and memory freed in song
—the poet to forget

(Villanova University: June, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
Can we ever know creation,
can we ever reach the source

Can knowledge of its power,
transcend this mortal course

Can we join in transformation,
as the old is new again

Is there really a salvation
—where the truth is freed of sin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
Can we ever know creation,
  can we ever reach the source

Can knowledge of its power,
  transcend this mortal course

Can we join in transformation,
  as the old is new again

Is there really a salvation,
—where the truth is freed of sin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Writing the words,
— I set myself free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2011)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2018
Last thing to hold on to
Last thing to belong to
Frayed lifeline to the temple
—clogged artery that slows

Last thing to hold on to
Last thing to belong to
As wings expand, freedom calls
—finally letting go

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
Obeying any moral law,
  reason wills unto itself

To play the game the way its staged
   —all freedom thusly dealt

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Chasing the crown,
Sitting the throne,
  —opposed

Pursuit once free,
Capture enslaves,
—jailer demands

Clipping one wing,
Grounding the wish,
—motion censored

Weight pushing down,
Hope abandoned,
—freedom deserts

(Strafford Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2019
Chasing the crown,
sitting the throne
—regal opposed

Pursuit once free,
capture enslaves
—jailer demands

Clipping one wing,
grounding the wish
—motion suppressed

Weight pushing down,
hope abandoned
—freedom deserts

(Strafford Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2022
You can’t catch up to history
its ship no longer sails
Each chapter prisoned by the wind
times trilogy airmailed

To search within your destiny
the moments turn to gold
Where bookends fall and freedom reigns
—beyond the past retold

(Dreamsleep: December, 2022)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
I live in places  
  you’ve never seen

And sleep in nightmares
  you’ve never dreamed

I choose in dimensions
  above either or

Beyond the pain
  you can endure

My memory lapses
  in moments freed

But fate imprisons
  all I see

Escape an option, death allowed,
  but only if I’m willing

To marry freedom’s hope denied
   —and **** my soul’s foretelling

(Flagstaff Arizona: February, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2019
The word ‘ABOUT’
  is like a ladder

From what is
  to what may be

Each rung a step
  in our perception

Climbing higher
  —to be free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2020
Redefining the past
for tomorrow

Memory’s promise
—reimagined again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2022
Life is about suffering
—acceptance brings peace

(The New Room: October, 2022)
Beginnings
unending
Each moment
befriends
Untethered
unfettered
Intuity
mends

Connection
­in motion
Where starts
never stop
Time lost
in fruition
From bottom
— to top

(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2018
Belief in the end…
  if truth be your cross

To break or to bend
  veracity’s cost

Last judgment your own
  hawks chase as doves fly

One choice to atone
—when free of all lies

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2018
In the shoals of the lake
  a deeper truth was buried

It waded ashore
  when your memory was parched

Irrigating a message
  long ago forgotten

Returning your forgiveness
  —washed free of blame

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2014)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
Back in their nests,
  birds chirping out loud
Retreated in bed,
  a boy dreams ‘what if now’
The moonlight not finished,
  what it started before
The church clothes all hanging,
  alone on the door
What once was thought ended,
  began then again
What never befriended,
   a new search to begin
The glass from the parlor,
  the long darkened hall
Reflections of squalor,
  distant riches to call
A bell starts to ring,
  signaling all bets are off
As a meadowlark sings,
  of eternity’s cost
The revelers revel,
  the sanguine proclaim
As the church starts to fill,
  and they’re calling his name
Any proof in the pudding,
  has now curdled and soured
As the chalice is filled,
  with a vision most dour
The mood is entranced,
  as time starts to drip
The minutes and hours,
   all scattered in bits
The reasons no matter,
  alone as before
And all sanity worships,
  death closing the door
Your collar goes on,
  white starched and unblessed
Your sermon made ready,
  for those still to behest
And what might you offer,
  where the prisoners hide
What salvation is proffered,
  when funded by lies
The eyes looking back,
  fixed distant and low
The eyes looking back,
  from the pews far below
Surrounded by elders,
and deacons to scold
His eyes were then only,
  but thirteen years old
The distance seemed fatal,
  the distance seemed grim
But now looking down,
  it was all about him
To one then so young,
  and so new and so fresh
Still wanting to believe,
  in not leaving the nest
Surrounded by neighbors,
  deceivers and friends
Dressed all in his finest,
  his hair slicked on end
His eyes remained down,
as his thoughts drifted up
His face never frowned.
  as your sermon erupts
“And what must this youth,
  think of me on this day”
Your collar getting tighter,
  praying mantis to prey
The height differential,
  the power sublime
The stairs leading up,
  for the blind to then climb
And once at the top,
  all so distant below
And once at the top,
  nothing there left to know
The birds dare not enter,
  the hawk or the dove
The cougar at center,
  devoid of all love
The peacocks outside,
  all withered and gray
The peacocks remembered,
  in colors portrayed
The hand bills were placed,
  at the end of the pews
A message designed,
  to riddle the stew
Caught up in the fable,
  caught up in the lie
To burn down the stable,
   horses scream as they fry
But the truth knows its teller,
  …that told in the end
Whose message is heaviest,
   where meaning transcends
Belonging to no-one,
  to you least of all
And to only itself,
  as the just heed its call
The blamer blasphemer,
  false prophet and *****
Silent screams from the pews,
  that they need something more
And in private you suffer,
  with a collar so tight
While in public you bombast,
  to portend and to fright
The law here unlettered,
  the reason unschooled
All souls once unfettered,
  no one left to rule
You know your time’s short now,
  all sins in the brine
That boy just below you,
   to always remind
You start at the beginning,
  you restart at the end
You start where you stopped,
  to get lost once again
As your powerful confusion,
  escapes you today
Using cryptic delusion,
  to parry and feign
Beget not the begotten,
  claiming all for yourself
All virtue forgotten,
  all feeling unfelt
If it mattered whenever,
  if it mattered at all
That meaning is hidden,
   as you struggle and fall
Accuse if you must,
  saying again to yourself
Betrayal acutely,
   is gifted unfelt
Benediction now burning,
  communion’s last host
All tides begin turning,
  more meaning to toast
The blend is left thickening,
  ruination sublime
Intention the most wicked,
  unfiltered unkind
The brave don’t get braver,
  as cowards rejoice
A knave in the shadows,
  to hide from his voice
The bend in the circumstance,
  the straightening lie
The clue that was missing,
  its poisoned reply
Walk down from your pulpit,
  those steps that won’t end
The pride and the fury,
  you stole to pretend
Looking out at the parishioners,
   his eyes are still down
And you know without asking,
  that his soul has left town
As you take your last breath,
  speaking then your last word
What once was a boy,
  separates from the herd
He gets up, turns and leaves,
  without once looking back
Your collar chokes fatally,
  his rejection attacks
The gathering outside,
  all merry and gay
The most devout neighing,
  like a horse in new hay
The church social breakfast,
    all slaps on the back
“Another great sermon, Parson,
  we had to hold our tears back”
A boy heads down the lane,
  head neither bowed nor *****
No breakfast for him,
  all celebration dissects
Knowing what he now feels,
  you will never beguile
Walking in through the back door,
  his elderly aunt smiles
Asking, “Is everything alright
  you’ve been gone quite a spell”
Her concern most maternal,
  in her thoughts he would dwell
He answers, “Everything’s fine,
  as his father distills
And closes the window,
  saying: “It’s starting to chill”
He walks up thirteen stairs,
  and lays down on the bed
Looking straight up above him,
  a floating image now dead
Asleep before noon,
  in his dream meets his peace
Knowing surrounded by doom,
  he must now leave this place
He is up before dawn,
  and back out on the lane
One sack over his shoulder,
  one orphan to claim
And the walk to the harbor,
  is rocky and steep
His trek ever steadfast,
one promise to keep
Signing on to the first ship,
  that’s now setting sail
Setting a course that’s uncharted,
  in a sea of travail
The clouds ever darker,
  the waves though they fall
His soul is on fire,
  his spirit on call
With the ship disappearing,
  beyond sight of all land
His future now clear,
  his mission at hand
That first day on board,
  and first night below deck
Were the first that had ever,
  held him safe in their net
With dawn’s light he climbed,
  to the crow’s nest above
And said ‘Thank You” to no-one,
  his future ungloved
And he sat there for hours,
  till his name was called out
His past now a memory
  —his heart free of doubt

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2014)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2016
There’s a hope that exists beyond reason,
  like the refrain of a well written song

There’s a tragedy entrapped in each season,
  where right is still captive of wrong

There’s an Angel waiting to take you to heaven,
across that river of torrent and pain

Where true joy in the act of forgiving,
—washes guilt completely free of its stain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2019
There’s a hope that exists beyond reason,
  like the refrain of a well written song

There’s a tragedy entrapped in each season,
  where right is still captive of wrong

There’s an Angel waiting to take you to heaven,
  across that river of torrent and pain

Where true joy in the act of forgiving
  —washes guilt completely free of its stain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2023
I think a lot of my name
but little of my signature
The letters left bleeding
as they die on the page
Endorsing a memory
in the hearts of my readers
The words free of structure
—immortality assuaged

(Dreamsleep: July 25, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2020
The mind and body dualist,
his prison for a throne

Confusion reigns where consciousness walks,
where can it find a home

The soul the prize that matters,
the spirit up for grabs

Proximity defining its own lie,
positioning unclad

But somewhere in the distance,
and somewhere heretofore

A laughter lives beyond itself,
escaping its own core

The zero-sum dilemma,
what Sages claim to own

Lay far beyond what’s deep within
—where truth is free to roam

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
The contract unsigned,
pen firmly in hand

The bliss not for barter,
its insight freestands

Fame and notoriety,
may go where they please

To my grave and beyond,
the verse teaches and frees

No pity I ask for,
understanding I shun

My fortune unspoiled,
wolf’s mountain to run

Till one day uncovered,
hidden deep on the shelf

A message uncensored,
as I wrote for myself

And that voice I was gifted,
and the music I heard

In themselves live forever,
—free unbaptized words

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2023
Oh
to be
a rock
guitarist

Oh
to be
forever
young

Oh
to travel
beyond
the fret board

Oh
to revel
in Heaven
strung

(Listening To Jeff Beck: December, 2023)
I wrote them
for the wind
not publication

I wrote them
for the now
future be ******

I wrote them
in a sweet
anticipation

I wrote them
to release
— upon the land

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Blue skies glisten,
the morning sun kisses

The Robin, announcing   
  the day

The sweetness of spring,
  to all lovers it brings

Renewed wishes,
—the fresh promise of May

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2018
A poem is never truly finished…
   a song never finally sung

Words lay silent as yet unspoken
   fresh voices—new races to run

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2020
When I got to Heaven,
God was gone

His desk cleaned out,
the Angels pawned

Not one scant sign,
he was ever there

Eviction notice,
pinned to his chair

My ride had left,
my ticket torn

No place to stay,
my hopes forlorn

Looking down,
I saw the truth

The clouds were empty,
destitute

All tenets followed,
a promise made

Those things I dreamed of,
the church forbade

So here I stay,
imprisoned high

No pearly gates
—the oysters fried

(Rosemont College: February, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2017
You want it to make sense
You want it to become clear
Your feigned self importance
No longer precious or dear
But the only one caring
And the one still in doubt
A mirrored reflection
Of what never comes out
The lunch breaks upon you
Again eating alone
Your steak is still raw
Chewed right to the bone
The banter around you
Seems innocent and yet
The shroud that surrounds you
Wards off and deflects
“You gain nothing by trying”
You gain nothing you say
As you begin crying
For those cast astray
That girl in the tall grass
That one in your arms
Went to be with another
When you bartered your charms
Her daughter who’s grown now
Some say looks like you
Could it be then you wonder
When the times were so few
You pay the cashier
And slowly walk out
This bill had been dear
More than you had allowed
With the bone in your pocket
You head back to your desk
As the cry of a mockingbird
Decries and behests
Your pen then runs dry
As you again start to write
On your left eye a sty
All vision in blight
Only then do you notice
Hanging pink and in front
And you know that your future
Now a dog that can’t hunt
So you walk to his office
And sit down in the chair
You look at him soulless
And try not to care
He explains “That he’s sorry”
That “The timing’s not right”
He says that you’re valued
But be gone by tonight
As you clean out your desk
A new feeling partakes
You look up to the ceiling
Knowing all that’s at stake
And that feeling is good
That feeling seems right
As the feeling then pushes
And the feeling alights
You decide now emboldened
To stop on the way home
At the house of that one
You left forever alone
You heard of divorce
And you wonder how bad
The damage it left her
Was it worse than you had
As you slow down your car
She stands in the yard
As you speed up your heart
She says ‘Directions’ how far
She does not recognize you
Have you changed all that much
She looks at you puzzled
As you long for her touch
And you drive away empty
As you drive away cold
And you drive away blackened
From your heart to your soul
But your path is now clear
Though you’ve no place to go
And those things that you’ve feared
Have now rightly been shown
As you walk in the kitchen
The door never had locked
Standing there and still smitten
The one you thought had forgot
“Was that you in the car earlier
Was that you, really you
I couldn’t believe it
Because I still love you, I do”
A reward wrapped in burlap
The priciest kind
Where if never rejected
You are never to find
So make just one promise
To then promise again
To be true to your feelings
—from beginning to end

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
You can take away health,
   you can take away riches,
   you can take my ability to see

But it will only cause me to feel
  you more
   —as I cry from bended knee

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
     ‘From The Book Of Prayers’
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
Writing words of forgiveness,
  a bridge from the grave

My ashes unscatter,
  my memories reclaim

A verse of atonement,
  all steps unto thee

Whose vision, my journey
  —from death set me free

(To Mark Phanco-Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2021
Waiting for yesterday,
I was delivered the voice
Whose tongue universal,
beyond reason and choice

Waiting for yesterday,
my time had arrived
Death hunting itself
—my spirit alive

(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
A prisoner of devotion,
a Saint indentured pure

The light now holds him captive,
on knees bent to the floor

His silence for a jailer,
  his sentence now unlocked

With handcuffs loose and falling
—their key from heaven bought

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
A prisoner of devotion,
  a Saint indentured pure

The light now holds him captive,
  on knees bent to the floor

His silence for a jailer,
  its sentence now unlocked

With handcuffs loose and falling,
—their key from heaven bought

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2021
I’ve not forgotten you,
but I can’t remember love
as moments went unpromised,
hours lost to wasted years
The future hiding one last spark,
memories yet to burn
that Fall we spent in lust’s inferno
—dancing in the flames


(Dreamsleep: March, 2021)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2018
Love On Display

You come to the Lord
  in only one way

On wings of forgiveness
—love on display

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2024
From The Coal Mine …

Liars …
early prophets
of impending doom

(The New Room: February, 2024)


The Moment Shared

We often forget
wrapped up
in our own drama
— that everyone feels the same

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Circle Game

The purpose of war
is peace
The guarantor of peace
— is war

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Crucibles

Moss
hides the message
Whose altar
ascends
In joy’s
adulation
The pilgrimage
— ends

(1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2024)



I Bequeath Thee …

Birthing a memory
o’er future and past
To carry my words
inside others to last

Birthing a memory
o’er time and space
To those still unborn
— my welcoming grace

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)



Four Steps

Incinerate
all kindling that burns
Articulate
the knowledge that yearns
Reciprocate
before it’s your turn
Elucidate
— each lesson hard earned

(The New Room: February, 2024)


True Fortune

Good health is loaned
— but never owned

(Deamsleep: February, 2024)
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