My poetry selfish,
a teacher I’m not,
my message once for saying
Instruction a tool
long missing and gone,
imagery not relaying
The ivory tower
a dungeon to me
where freedom goes to die
The wind in the willows,
a hawk on the wing
—my verse to course and fly
(The New Room: October, 2021)
...Et Spiritus Sancti
Born fully human,
more fully Divine
Our Savior upon us,
existence sublime
The sum of three persons,
all persons as one
His love in the mystery
sent down from above
A choice beyond question,
its truth beyond fact
All faith in transcendence
—unsetting the trap
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: October 31st, 2021 10:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
- User favorite of this poem: Laura🌻.
Offline)
Comments2
Kurt,
AMEN!
Laur🌻
be it fable, allegory or parable
its only Hubris
that has us convinced, one
is any better than another
in reality, we each know
the mystery in our chosen Art
is not in any
Grecian myth or Theological 'trinity' lore
rather
its, in the magic of the reader's Perspective...
we could imbue love in every syllable, and
still have a Nero or Hitler
warp it, into a cut and paste
defiling of our inking intent..
we're all a morbidly, vilified Nietzsche - in the making
it but takes, a betraying sister
and sinister ill-timing of political climate,
to demean
all our endeavours and hopes, into mere futile
graveyard crimson tears
of posterity's: poisoned ink...
(sorry Kurt, not seeing your write's as often these days,
that's why my comments are so delayed,
but its not just yours;
so I guess its just that our timing
is no longer in unison, a shame)
thanks for choosing to share, dear Poet
Thanks again for the read.
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