Truth…
the first casualty
of war
Love…
the last casualty
of truth
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Voices Call Distant
The places I’ve traveled,
yet still haven’t seen
Those roads that I’ve ridden,
while caught in-between
The mileage piled up,
as memory lay stacked
Where voices call distant
—my mind to go back
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Prisoner Of Time
Does your past
inhibit the meaning
Does a smile work
to cover your pain
Does today lie in wait
for tomorrow
Your messages cleft,
forever the same
Do you write before feelings
have woken
The letters pretty, in cursive
review
When your words leave the pulpit
unspoken
Do you retreat to the very
last pew
Taking refuge,
as twilight approaches
All windows shuttered,
any truth to mime
Those orphaned moments
to hold you captive
And a victim
—the prisoner of time
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: September 26th, 2019 09:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments2
Kurt,
• “First & Last”
Ohh, yes...
very well said!
~Laura~
Thanks Laura
My pleasure!🤗
What held me captive were not orphaned moments, but your writing!
I'm truly honored by your words.
Thanks Fred.
Kurt
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