Kurt Philip Behm

Looking Back (+7)

The older I get

  the more I see myself

  in faces of other men

 

I only hope

  when looking back

   —they see themselves in me

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2013)

 

 

     The Inner Sanctum

 

Who rails against the voices

  that hide so deep

 

And haunt the inner sanctums

  in which we sleep

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2013)

 

Buried Within

 

The differences in life

 —live within the questions you’ve asked

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2013)

 

 

The Raven Has Fled

 

“The ribbon is cut

 The die is cast

 The cement is dry

 Yet nothing lasts

 The brazen rewarded

 The hero a fool

 All reason outdated

 New fury the tool”

 

A journey presented

Your ship to go far

With doldrums eclipsed

By the light of new stars

The lands will seem foreign

The people most strange

But they’ll smile as you pass

And call you by name

You run, and you run,

And you run from it all

With no chart to guide you

The albatross calls

And then sweet intention

Returns from respite

Rephrasing the unmentioned

Where maybe you might

In fear of the tonic

All healing disdained

Right, left-side disjointed

The cork from the drain

The covers pull back

Your bones are now bare

The tiller is slack

And there’s nobody there

So you take to the helm

Hands firmly in place

And you care not a whit

If it’s all empty space

As a raven is perched

On the yardarm so high

A land bird that lurches

Cawing all truth a lie

And you wonder then maybe

Have you wandered too far

As you ladle the future

From a long empty jar

The wind starts to move

A gift from the moon

What’s whole has been halved

And the sun almost noon

The rigging is creaking

The mast ever tall

The wind has died down

With no new ports of call

The feeling still burns

In the fire within

To find that one thing

That unfound—to you sings

The ocean is flat

The seas remain calm

The seasons repeat

From reflection embalmed

The night sky is clearest

The darkest the days

The winds have escaped you

Adrift you now stay

But then just a wisp

Of a breeze on your cheek

Portends of a magic

And the vision you seek

It strengthens and gushes

Throughout all the night

As the red sky last evening

Had hinted it might

As the headsails go up

The big linen comes down

And you climb up the mast

Stepping over a frown

The creak of the lapstrake

Splashes over the bow

The present in sight

Incarnate, right now

You look down on a lifetime

In this moment of joy

As the smell of the brine

Covers anything coy

And an Island approaches

From the mist up ahead

As the stillness reproaches

And retreats to its bed

The wonder returns

All speculation begins

Of the magic you’ll find

In this newness again

At the top of a mountain

Strange trees then appear

In a shape that’s uncertain

Neither familiar nor clear

The closer you get

The more they seem to move

As their shapes become giant

And your hopes then behoove

Now anchored offshore

With the dinghy in place

You can see them more clearly

Each shape and each face

Like monolithic Gods

They reign high on the hill

Looking down on who enter

With a warning that’s shrill

But where are the people

The Island is bare

Just giant stone carvings

That linger and stare

As you land on the beach

The ground starts to shake

And from deep in your heart

The primordial aches

The mountain then trembles

All paths become closed

With the thunder a warning

Any trespasser knows

As you run to the dinghy

Its been stolen and gone

And your ship is now missing

In its place just a song

Calling out in those words

That you already know…

 

“A price not paid dearly

     is only for show”

 

You turn back to the mountain

And in an explosion of light

You’re lifted up to the heavens

Spun around in a fright

Then shooting straight downward

Toward the mountain below

With force you are planted

Along monument row

And now that you’ve joined them

All questions abide

The distance and separation

In heaven collide…

 

“Can I leave, am I destined

  to be left here entombed ?”

 

And in language you recognize

You hear back so soon

From those pillars immortal

Voices start to be heard

Your welcome now total

Reborn in their words

 

“You can leave if you want to

  the choice is now yours

  but this mountain goes

  with you

  all places defer

  you’ve reached

  through the mystery

  you’ve passed your own test

  the tonic’s within you,

   —the raven has fled”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2013)

 

 

Do You

 

Do you have the key

  to unlock a new door

 

Do you have the words

  that will heal an old wound

 

Do you have the eyes

  that will share in the tears

 

Do you have a heart

  —not yet wrenched from your soul

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2013)

 

 

Fallow Dreams

 

Politics…

Fertilizing corruption

With the reseeding

Of lies

Upon dreams

That grow fallow

Upon dreams

That grow bare

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2013)

 

 

Inspiration

 

Everything written to inspire

  rises above our nature

 

Everything written to inspire

  serves to transport and transform

 

Everything written to inspire

   makes the old new again

 

        In ways that only

        the heart can feel

          —and the spirit know

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2013)

 

 

 

Johns Remorse

 

If Keats was right and beauty is truth

  —what lies of this world have we made

 

(University Of Pennsylvania: October, 2013)