Kurt Philip Behm

Faith In The Wind (+2)

I said it all long ago

once in a poem

Nothing to restate,

 no words to explain

The waters have traveled,

my ship has long sailed

Your curious intention

brings only refrain

 

All thoughts into memory

whose feelings have gone

The property of others

my words now belong

Wishing and hoping

the spirit disowns

All wisdom diverted

—to skip that last stone

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

 

 

Storming The Walls

 

Within this structure,

my words remain

Each line a fortress,

as thoughts refrain

 

The ramparts solid,

its moat retracts

All quivers loaded,

as doubt attacks

 

The enemy constant,

assault on fire

What darkness births,

one phrase retires

 

The battle spoken

upon the wind

My legend written

—still safe within

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

 

 

Bad Pennies...

 

Writing is a messy feast

where crumbs fall to the floor

to congregate and aggregate

to hide and form and spore

 

Left alone and thrown away

these remnants take new life

invading what you fear the most

on dark and stormy nights

 

They creep inside your cleanest lines

to weaken and distract

what memory long has cast aside

now rising from the cracks

 

And latching on while holding tight

they make you speak their name

those orphaned crumbs your table cleared

—in sweeping lost disdain

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)