Kurt Philip Behm

This Moment (+6)

It comes like

Seems like

Feels like

And speaks like

—a dream

 

That maybe

This instant

For once

And forever

—can mean

 

That yesterday

And tomorrow

Break ties

With the now

—and then free

 

The future

And past

From the

Present

—this moment to be

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

 

 

Your Mistress Defiled

 

Has your violence

taken you to places

I’ve not been

 

Or driven you

to things

I’ve not seen

 

Was your soul

mired in conflict

once raised from the dead

 

Were your walls

built to fortify

excuses and blame

 

Have your choices

been forged by

damnation and fear

 

Did love matter at all

when it cried

through the pain

 

Could you still hear its voice

on those darkest

of nights

 

Were those places you

conquered

in tribute now damned

 

Did your victims

kneel down

their heads bowed in shame

 

Was mercy rejected

your mistress

defiled

 

Has your violence

taken you to places

I’ve not been

 

Or driven you

to things

I’ve not seen

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

Only My Words

 

I’m covered in dirt,

but my words are still clean

 

A vision half dried

with stains running deep

 

With sinners and saints

arm in arm at the bar

 

Each infection we share

tonight’s hookup and score

 

Meaningless excuses

all scandal affirmed

 

My bed made with sheets

from a brothel once scorned

 

As I lie in the shadows

with my soul partly damp

 

My words are set free

—to the heavens restamped

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

A Sacrilege

 

Are people religious because

they’re good?

 

Or good, because they’re

   religious?

 

The questions remain,

the verdict unclaimed

 

The wrong answer deemed

—sacrilegious

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

 

Falling Free

 

Eternity shook,

as the words fell free

   —startled, but unafraid

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

 

 

A Lone Daffodil

 

I was walking in March

when from under the snow

—Spring reached up and grabbed me

 

In my path was a stem

pointing up from below

—a lone daffodil reaching toward me

 

My darkness was gone

a single robin in song

—with the cold still freezing the air

 

As my mood had been changed

all life rearranged

—my steps treading nary a care

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

 

 

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)