Slowing down the motor,
running low on gas

The lies, the HOV lane,
the truth off in the grass

The speed counterproductive,
it warps and then transforms

The magic in the stillness,
the beauty heaven born

The light becomes a blurring,
as darkness settles in

Till stepping off the madness,
and travelling within

That fatal rush to judgment,
a quiet now sustains

One choice to stop the treadmill
—all motion rearranged

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Once committed to memory
the ownership sublime
Entitlement within your thoughts
caught in every line

Deep within your consciousness
intuition’s deed holds fast
Spelling out your right to own
—the only thing that lasts

(The New Room: May, 2023)

Trying too hard
to appear he’s not trying
Saying too much
without saying a thing
Shapeshifting lover
the fire his mistress
Locked in an image
—whose essence is ******

(The New Room: June, 2023)

Egos
not armies
destroy the Crown

Arrogance
reletting
the blood

The Emperor
naked
upon its back

Odysseus
in
— from the wood

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)

With nothing to offer
but my own confusion,
I wandered through the night

Holding you close
while letting you go,
a darker prophecy claimed the light

The end came too soon,
the beginning was dead,
all connection torn and lost

In the distance to cast
our last lot to goodbye,
redemption—the true cost

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2020)

Forgetting to remember,
destiny sold
is eternity shamed

Forgetting to remember,
letters well placed
still call out your name

Forgetting to remember,
providence anointed
is innocence lost

Forgetting to remember,
what’s bought with your freedom
—blood the true cost

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

Yes, I’m a Poet,
but I refuse to be conscripted

I refuse to be a victim,
my words made out of stone

I refuse to bleed my heart out,
on a page of blank simpatico

I refuse to give you weakness,
knowing strength you have disowned

Yes, I’m a Poet,
but my sword is sharp and pointed

My shield is scarred and colored
with the blood of firebrands

My breath won’t plead while shouting,
every name a future conquest

My pen in hand, a weapon sure
—its ink the truth commands

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)

God does not exist…
existence a material term

Transcending all dimension,
His presence wholly burns

Not temporal or timeless,
His light as knowledge gives

Not forgiving or forsaking
—the truth in God just is

(St. Davids Pennsylvania: June, 2019)

I wandered among the springtime trees,
and in the stillness they reached out

To touch each feeling within my heart,
giving cover to my doubt

My life sequestered as I walk alone,
past memories deeply felt

The social ramblings of a world at war,
now distanced from itself

Like nothing’s happened they praise the earth,
their blossoms all ablaze

While the quiet thunders upon itself
—inside this twilight haze

(Garrett Hill Pennsylvania: April, 2020)

Truth minus freedom
—equals Academia

(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)

Living as if already dead,
his words new

That morning he first understood,
the verse flew

The closer he got to the edge,
the deeper his voice

That day he fell over himself
—the ultimate choice

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Complexity wrapped
in simpler terms
Untying its ribbon  
— freeing the words

(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)

The dawn of
forgiveness
The death of
old pain
The choice that
releases
The end of
disdain

Unwrapping
tomorrow
Regifted
today
The loneliest
moments
Beyond
—yesterday

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

Adding together
numbers and colors
red + 7 sku’d

Living in another
event horizon
yellow + 1 = Q

Orange + 31
sweetness defined
Euclidian paradox

Counting + feeling
the universe prime
— nth truth outside the box

(Villanova University: February, 2024)


Sands Of Time

Memories in the hourglass
  tumble and fall
  feelings receding
— meaning recalled  

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Behind the walls
of his fantasy
an actor played his role
dishonest in death
dishonest in life
face like ashen coal

Taking the stage
left, center, and right
soliloquy to fawn
each pleading rehearsed
all truth in reverse
—footlights dark and gone

(Dreamsleep: Octopber, 2021)

Feathers and warpaint are symbolic disguises for the enemy ...

Looking forward and inward, Crazy Horse was consumed by his vision as he rode into the ancestral camp of the unmarked trail. It was here that he listened for the older voices who kept council with the past.

There was no shield to protect from arrows fired from within. When shot from the heart of ancient wanderings and hitting their target, life turned into death and then life again.

The symbols of the warrior... the arrow, bow, and horse, were painted on tipi’s proud and were there to guide your spirit on its path to who you would become. The images depicted a true warrior’s journey — war being a portal —catalyzing with its deliverance the freedom of your spirit.

Death burns celebration as its kindling, renewing everything within the finality of its embers, taking you back to the beginning of all things possible, where …

The rules
   the reasons
   the ridicule
           and the redemption

all fade in your memory, while you become more of what you always were — and less of what the timid crave.  

Unveiling your spirit
   rejoining your fathers

as your feathered bonnet and warpaint lie burning in the flames of a distant council fire.



Kurt Philip Behm: July, 2024  
(From Searching For Crazy Horse)

Every battle has its heroes,
most will go unnamed

True glory in their willingness,
to shun all praise and fame

With minds and spirits unified,
their hearts steadfast and pure

All destiny within the fight
—they ask for nothing more

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2019)

The future calls our name just once,
hello awaits goodbye

The past a veil to what’s been learned
—the truth wrapped in a lie

(H.U.P. May, 2020)

The world God’s illusion
deceiving Himself
Birthing a metaphor
sleight of His hand
Time as the smokescreen
veiling the folly
Escape our salvation
—transcendent Divine

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

Married to the sacred word
Committed to its ideal
Betrothed to sworn fidelity
Divorced from the unreal
My wedding duly prearranged
All children heaven sown
I copulate each solemn vowel
—and spread the verse unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

Political correctness…
  the new ***** word

Meaning perverted,
  excuses now heard

It masks and it covers,
  what it most tries to hide

As it preys and then smothers
  —with the vilest of lies

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

When I was starving,
poetry fed me

When I was sick,
the verse made me well

When I was homeless,
words gave me shelter

When I was lost
—the voice led me home

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Deadly to his enemies,
confusing to his friends

While faithful to his writing,
—all justified intent

Furious in times of war,
in peace his vision burns

But past the fray inside his verse,
a gentler spirit yearns

Salvation long then sacrificed,
a fate he can’t deny

A cross that’s left for him to bear,
but still his spirit cries

Through battles mostly devil sent,
and victories sealed with death

This guilt the price he’s had to pay,
now felt with every breath

One wish at last he prays out loud,
one cry is sent above

“My spear, my pen, my will to live
I trade all back for love”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

‘You’ll never step in the same river twice,’
the future now the past

Motion the only constancy,
beyond all time to last

You will never see the mountain,
by staring in its face

Perspective shorn and vision torn,
its image out of place

You’ll never look into your soul,
while outside glancing in

Its essence what you’re running from
—whose gateway leads to Him

(The Book Of Prayers: September, 2020)

You’ll get where you’re going
—if you don’t go too fast

(Kit Carson: May, 1850)

Riding through fear
until passing regret

Excuses on fire,
memory beset

Leaving the past
and the future untold

Freedom inherent
—the moment unfolds

(Deamsleep: August, 2021)

The lights went out,
the music played,
as Angels spread their wings

My name recalled,
my heart enthralled
—as joyous cherubs sing

(1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2022)