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Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
“Feeling beyond touch,”
  the Sorcerer said…

“Knowledge beyond thought,”
  all memory ahead

“Faith beyond healing,”
  its mercy divine

“Love beyond giving,”
—a journey sublime

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
Loving one woman…
a joy unto heaven

Loving two women…
a curse upon the soul

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
Loving one woman…
  a joy unto heaven

Loving two women…
  a curse upon the soul

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2016
Loving one woman…
  a joy unto heaven

Loving two women…
  a curse upon the soul

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2021
One may lose his honor
—but it can never be taken from him

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: July, 2009)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
I imagined myself rich,
I saw myself poor

From the suite to the stable,
my soul cried for more

The sweeter the temptation,
the more dour the gain

A kingdom for a poem
—my treasure renamed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2018
Nobility,
  in debt to all virtue
   —on loan to the truth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
Stuck on the broken landing
Of a stairway to nowhere
My mood no longer elevated
My spirit remiss of song

Looking over the railing
Into a history that I buried
A ladder appears above me
But when I step—its rungs are gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2023
In rhythms of today
the silence of tomorrow
Where promise lies waiting
—for hope unfulfilled

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2022
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name

‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drumbeat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame

As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call

The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls

“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone

“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home

“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud

“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud

“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake

“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake

“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent *****, all future in blight

“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night

“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, where the demon still hides

“Where it lives, you must **** it, for this time and always,
before it steals our last dream, keeping spirits alive

“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot

“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not

“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold

“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2018
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name

‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame

As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call

The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls

“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
“Your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone

“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home

“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud

“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud

“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake

“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake

“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent *****, all future in blight

“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night

“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, where the demon still hides

“Where it lives, you must **** it, for this time and always,
before it steals our last dream, keeping spirits alive

“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot

“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not

“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold

“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2020
‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name

‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,
reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame

As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call

The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls

“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,
“Your horse is now waiting, your shield fixed with bone

“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,
the People will dance until their son returns home

“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,
the buffalo ravaged, starvation cries loud

“Your eyes to look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud

“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
you must call for your horse to come out of the lake

“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
to your will they entrust what The People forsake

“Your spirit must suffer, the babies still cry,
the cold through the tent *****, all future in blight

“The hawk comes to guide you, as you pass through the darkness,
the drums of your fathers beat into the night

“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
ask the Grizzly, our brother, if the demon still preys

“If it does, you must **** it, for this time and always,
it has hovered above us keeping spirits away

  “The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot

“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
the smoke will then signal of what he is not

“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,
your journey awaits, past-futures on hold

“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
your People die waiting—the young and the old”

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: February, 2011)
From My Novel: “Searching For Crazy Horse”
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2020
The sentence was death, terminally sure,
to pack my bags, adieu

As reds have never looked so red,
and greens, the greenest hue

The wine the sweetest on my tongue,
as birds sing sweeter still

The children’s laughter I embrace,
their joy I’ll keep until…

In thinking back on what I’ve missed,
my mind then draws a blank

Every wish and every hope, twice over,
with my thanks

A hundred days to say goodbye,
and voice my first hello

No tears have I for broken dreams
—as I prepare to go

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: April, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2021
How looks my love at dawn
in Spring
the air a festive vase
of hope
to lord each sprout of truth
with praise
and sing what only birds
announce

Her steps become a
garden path
her breath a fragrance
o’er the hills
to dance with future,
present, past
and spin each partner
—time undone

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2021
“I’ve come to the very end of myself,”
the day cried out to the night

“My expiration date lined in blood,
tomorrow less than bright

“My beginning and ending dancing a last waltz,
destiny writing the score

“My wick has burned down, the music has stopped
—too late to ask for more”

(The New Room: February, 2021)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2020
Particles in the void,
memories in the stream

Lovers in the mist
—time caught between

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: January, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
In his science
  he wrestled

With my verse
  just the same

As his numbers
  refigured

The words
  I renamed

Two roads
  to one place

Distant windows,
  one light

Time still to
  confound

Albert’s shadow
  —so bright

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2017
Like wine uncorked to breathe the air,
  my heart and mind become

The richness of this life I’ve lived,
  a fortune e’er begun

Not looking back, but looking in,
  the key to feelings past

Where hides a treasure, memory locked,
—a legacy recast

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
Sitting alone
  among my books,
  growing old within myself

A memory came back
  its reflection dim,
  as I lifted one down from the shelf

Sitting alone
  among my books,
  I remembered—then remembered again

More than just words
  are on those pages I wrote,
  it’s my lifetime of searching—in print

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
Allowed to grow unfettered,
allowed to grow unnamed

Allowed to grow beyond myself,
connected once again

Swept up by the wind that brought me,
and free of nether mind

A light now shines within my soul
—that once had come to blind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2017
Allowed to grow unfettered,
  allowed to grow unnamed

Allowed to grow beyond myself,
  connected once again

Swept up by the wind that brought me,
  and free of nether mind

A light now shines within my soul,
—that once had come to blind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2020
Is consciousness emergent,
or de facto zero sum

Is what we know about ourselves,
a walk or more a run

A lion knows to chase a deer,
but not the reason why

The truth inherent in abstraction,
lost upon the fly

As man continues onward,
his psyche then will grow

Until surpassing all he seeks
—and all existence shown

(Villanova University: January, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2023
A therapist skirts the edge of lunacy
like a priest engages sin

An evangelist disavows poverty and fear
like a snake that sheds its skin

Together they paint the corridors black
with a promised light to come

Their patients and converts alone in the dark
salvation zero-sum

(Dreamsleep: March, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2017
The hour has come,
  no word left unspoken

The reasons have vanished,
—all emptiness gone

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2011)
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2016
The hour has come,
—no word left unspoken

The reasons have vanished,
—all emptiness gone

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2011)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2018
Did you dodge the bullet,
  but not its intent

Is the ocean now calm,
  as the storm reinvents

Have feelings rehardened,
  with blood on the stone

Back to back with yourself,
—all escape you’ve disowned

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
Did you try to take it with you,
  did you really think you could

Did your journey end abruptly,
  as you never thought it would

Are those things that you acquired,
  much of comfort to you now

Are those dreams left uninspired,
  parked on someone else’s cloud

Did you once just say “I’m sorry,”
  for those things you didn’t do

Do you weep in fearful moments,
  for those things you wish you knew

Was your lack of all contrition,
  what’s now written on your stone

Is your map unmarked and barren,
—all eternity unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2018
A highway of regret…
  an avenue of denial

A boulevard of hopes and dreams
  where footsteps have defiled

A thoroughfare of wanton time
  each choice a dead end road

In fated plundered wanderlust
  —dark alleyways of stone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2016
My reservation made
My ticket punched
My racket strung
My hole card trumps
My lead dog ready
My rudder long
My hope restructured
My spirit strong
My story ending
My fable begins
My memories endowed
All faith now within

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2017
Life’s journey through the darkest night,
  my final verse is clear

Temptation writes now for itself,
—all heaven for an ear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
As a writer,
  I create my own freedom

And as a writer,
  I invent my own friends

As a writer,
  I espouse my own truth

And as a writer,
  my will never bends

As a writer,
  I travel the world

And as a writer,
  that journey’s within

As a writer,
  I dive for more pearls

And as a writer,
  never having to swim

As a writer,
  the moon rises at dawn

And as a writer,
  the sun burns through the night

As a writer,
  my words play immortal

And as a writer,
—all heaven in sight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2019
As a writer,
I create my own freedom

And as a writer,
I invent my own friends

As a writer,
I espouse my own truth

And as a writer,
my will never bends

As a writer,
I travel the world

And as a writer,
that journey’s within

As a writer,
I dive for more pearls

And as a writer,
each moment begins

As a writer,
the moon rises at dawn

And as a writer,
the sun burns through the night

As a writer,
my words play immortal

And as a writer
—all heaven in sight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2019
Everything...
  is all I ask

In all you say
  —and all you do

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2016
Is the artist in me a liar,
  or the one who walks outside

Are my words and deeds in conflict,
  which to breathe and which to hide

Would King Solomon have an answer,
  to this split I often feel

Would salvation hold my name in check,
  as today my soul to deal

Do excuses like good intentions,
  pave the way, perdition shown

Do the reasons then abandon,
  idle hope when left alone

Can the spirit claim what time has lost,
  in it’s quest to stay inspired

Can the truth once lit inside my heart,
—set all kindled lies afire

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2019
The new Millennium…
love with a small l
mistrust with a large M
honor—with all letters gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2018
The distance between what you feel
  and what you write…
    —your measure as a Poet

The difference between what you think
  and how you act…
    —your measure as a Man

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2019
The world is my mentor,
eternity my judge

Each choice confirmation,
the future ungloved

Time no longer master,
to deceive or profane

All life in this moment
—its meaning contained

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Like children, pages
  drift away adolescent,
  refusing what I offer

Defiant
  in their questions,
  beyond all answers in their parting

Forcing what’s left, to live trapped
  in the abandoned distance
  between us now

All movement stopped
  and estranged, from the very things
  we used to know

(Worcester Massachusetts: March, 2011)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2020
If you’re not ready to **** the lion
—never stalk its trail

(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
The farther we stray
from our natures
the more depressed we get

Hunting, fishing
and chopping wood
our DNA and yet ...

We sit and stare
at digital screens
our spirits on the run

And shun each other
inhumane
our futures zero — sum

(The New Room: September, 2024)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2021
I don’t limit who reads my verse,
only who I answer

Each word thick-skinned and armor-clad
all questions zero-sum

(To Nelson Riddle & Frank Sinatra: March, 2021)
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 Feb 2017
Are you a Poet or tactician,
or “A Rose By Any Other Name…”

Are your words stained with patina,
some would scrub and some would blame

Is your Kingly ode too rough for some,
finding safety in their books

Is your verse uncut with edges sharp,
—all Princes in their rooks

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2018
For the lack of one letter,
  the word could not form

For the lack of one word,
  the entire sentence was wrong

For the lack of one sentence,
  the paragraph went astray

For the lack of one paragraph,
  the page lay undone

For the lack of one page,
  the chapter could not end

For the lack of one chapter,
  the book was now lost

For the lack of one book,
  its message unwritten

For the lack of one book
  —all promise was gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2017
For the lack of one letter,
  the word could not form

For the lack of one word,
  the entire sentence was gone

For the lack of one sentence,
  the paragraph went astray

For the lack of one paragraph,
  the page became dark

For the lack of one page,
  the chapter could not end

For the lack of one chapter,
  the book was now lost

For the lack of one book,
  its message unwritten

For the lack of one book
  —all promise was gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2014)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2020
Dancing on a slippery *****
Wishing on a dying hope
Dreaming on, not sleeping much
  Feeling on the ends of touch
Caring till my heart comes home
Seeing till my sight is gone
Reaching till my hands fall off
Running till my feet are raw
Knowing what my mind rejects
Saving what my soul neglects
Losing what is never found
Leaving what I care about
Drifting past the distant wind
Aching past the hurt within
Looking past what eyes deny
Loving
—past all questions why

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2019
Laboring in obscurity...
  my pen a vagabond

Hitchhiking through my consciousness,
  my thumbprint worn and gone

Wishing past the hoping,
  spitting into the wind

All roads end in the desert
  —darkness my best friend

(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2020
Not in command of what happens next,
only in how we react

The world gets to pitch and we get to catch,
in hope that our strikes are intact

No matter how hard we struggle
and fight for a sense of control

Reality looms till fatality dooms
—eternity taking its toll

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2020)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2017
I don’t bow to money,
  I don’t bow to fame

I kneel to that one thing,
  that time cannot change

I don’t speak for right,
  and won’t speak for wrong

My liege is the truth,
  all court jesters gone

I don’t hope to be knighted,
  my shield more concave

And rejecting all title,
  the past still enslaved

My will lay unbroken,
  my heart for a throne

A crown jeweled with memory
—all scepters disowned

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2020
Logic destroys the natural state,
as order rules the day

To tag and label, weigh and chart,
reality at bay

A poet in the truest sense,
I fall outside the lines

Entropic freedom calling me
—to all that I might find

(Rosemont College: August, 2020)
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