Off in the distance,
he was whispering my name
What started as a rumor,
audible and plain
My parking meter empty,
the hour glass had run
What life only borrowed,
reclaimed—the devil’s son
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
What Death Denies
The artist dies again and again,
but his art does not
Bringing new life to the ages,
turning his back on time
The artist cannot last,
but his genius can
Living inside the spirit
—of what death denies
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
Time Dispells
Always is a long, long time,
today is longer still
The beginning of what can never end,
consciousness distills
Tomorrow is the shortest time,
when looked at from today
And yesterday no time at all,
whose notion drifts away
Never is all time denied,
its twisted tongue proclaims
The ending to what can’t begin,
mindfulness disdains
Here is where the treadways cross,
all roads found turning in
And now the moment pre-ordained
—transcendence waits within
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
Moon Walk
Live hard,
write easy
Footsteps vanishing
with the tide
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Keeper Of The Flame
Weaver of dreams,
caretaker of the word
Orator of the heart
—steward of love
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: March 27th, 2020 09:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments5
Kurt,
• “The Devil’s Son”
Considering these difficult times we’re experiencing, it made me think of
‘— the devil’s son’
as the Coronavirus.
I guess it’s because that’s what’s on my mind most of the day.
Stay safe and well.🤗
~Laura~🌻
Interesting. You stay safe as well.
Thanks
Kurt,
With regard to
“What Death Denies”,
that’s how I feel about your outstanding writings...
‘Living inside the spirit
— of what death denies’
~Laura~🌻
Thanks Laura
I am into "Time Dispells".
Thanks for reading
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