Kurt Philip Behm

With Her Love (+13)

Each word cutting through

  ten pounds of flesh…

 

 The Muse

    —killing me with her love

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Unwritten Prisoners

 

Like spontaneous combustion,

  the words exploded

 

Molten lyrics erupting

  from the great unknown

 

Their only warning…

  trepidation inside the reluctant

  and unsettled heart

 

Their solemn promise…

  to free the unwritten prisoners

  of confusion and doubt

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Saint Joan

 

All males undone
by the Lady Son

The trumpets blared
her fire

An Earl first came
her wrath unchained

To Charles
her heart aspired

All kingdom come
to face Lady Son

But to hell
their souls were laid

As her legend grew
and from banners flew

The name Joan
—all hearts to pray

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Alone In The Twilight

 

Are those thoughts you put in

  what I once valued more

 

Or would what I put out

  be the end winning score

 

Did I need your ears

  for my voice to become whole

 

Or would I rather them deafened

  words deep in my soul

 

In my twenties your opinion

  carried some weight

 

In my thirties I listened

  but asked you to wait

 

In my forties I turned

  and walked slowly away

 

Now alone in the twilight

  —to carry the day

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

 

Don\'t Bother

 

With subconscious desire

  my blood pressure on fire

 

And the needle ready to break

  through the glass

 

I try to calm down

  as the muse rises and shouts…

 

  “Don’t

     —even bother to ask”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

In The Dark

 

Education was meant

  to provide the tools

 

Not to build the

  house

 

Colleges wounded by

  ‘enlightened’ fools

 

Where by deception  

  truth has bled out

 

Young minds are

  now lost

 

At a very great

  cost

 

To a system 

  rigged from the start

 

And for grades they will

  kneel

 

With all verity

  concealed

 

Mindlessly searching for their

  next class

     —in the dark

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Dumbstruck

 

The University rustler’s aim

  herding and stealing… 

  hot irons from within

 

Professorial larcenous B.S. campaign

  letters branded

  to deceive and convince

 

The doctor licentiate

  disguised as Jesse James

  his gang riding shotgun up top

 

If they ever tally up all the things

  they’ve unlearned, they will shoot

  at each other—dumbstruck

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Fire & Rain

 

Shrinking immortality into

  the moment

 

Ignoring the impostors

  —future and past

 

Inhaling eternity’s thunder

   with every breath

 

Breathing out

  —fire and rain

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

 

The Pathway Home

 

 If you can take your own

  breath away

  —and the breath of others

 

You will live in a world of

  magic and dreams

  —the shortest pathway home

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Everything But Love

 

Using words

  only borrowed

  —but not owned

 

Wearing clothes

  stolen from a Mime

  —not my own

 

I placed a token  

  metaphor

  inside a pictureless frame

 

Giving you everything

  but love

   —time and again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

 

To See, Hear, Feel, And Love

 

Do you need to open your eyes

   to see?

 

Do you need to have the words spoken

   to hear?

 

Do you need to pierce beneath the skin

   to feel?

 

Do you need to first understand

   —to love?

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

The Wonder Of It All

 

Where science ends,

   poetry begins

 

The wonder of it all

  —questioned again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

 

Beyond Her Shield

 

Using me as a weapon

  and not a shield

 

The Muse would

  parry and thrust

 

Attacking with a message

  that wouldn’t yield

 

She prowled my light hours

  in disgust

 

The sword of my fathers

  hers by right

 

To ensure

  tonight’s salvation

 

Collapsing the moment

  reversing my sight

 

Each cut

  a revelation

 

All time was dead

  its hours uncast

 

As she thundered out a

  mystery

 

Her lightning destroying

  all futures past

 

My soul

  —in forced recovery

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Gertrude.com

 

The Lost Generation

 now lost online

 Paris, a web of postings

 

Its cafes are fed

 fresh verses unread

   —new Seines left overflowing

 

(Montmartre Paris: March, 2009)