Kurt Philip Behm

Thrice Denied (+4)

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)

 

 

 

       Indifference

 

To inflict on tomorrow,

the empty promises of fate

 

The will to reign indifferent,

—the devil’s cruelest form of hate

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

 

For Ever More

 

 If music is the soul of art,

then what can writing be

 

Is it the eyes, perhaps the ears,

in printed reverie

 

Is music the stage whereupon,

all other art encores

 

For if it is, all words rejoice,

—to sing for ever more

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

 

 

Love\'s Reality—Unreal

 

Your lies much more exciting,

than any truth you never told

 

Stolen moments of pure delight,

a fantasies cuckold

 

Your touch hides what your eyes cannot,

my dreams you come to steal

 

Your body moves, your heart lays still,

love’s reality—unreal

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

 

The Ink Is Calling

 

Suspended moments between the lines,

my mind now lost in space

 

Sublimated syntax buried deep,

my spirit free to race

 

The light unfiltered, the sound of horns,

my body starts to rise

 

The ink is calling, my pen in hand,

new words at last—arrive

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)