Matthew 18:3 (+1)

Kurt Philip Behm

Tonight, I became my youngest son,

my oldest son now gone

My youth reframed, new joy proclaimed,

a lost returning song

 

Tonight, I became that little boy,

whose playpen sets me free

All toys reclaimed, no further blame

—to enter joyfully

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)

 

 

Potentia Mutare

 

You can’t fill your dry spots

out of a whisky bottle

Or chase away demons

with a dirty needle

Or change the future

pointing the finger of blame

The freedom within you

—the power to change

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)

  • Author: Kurt Philip Behm (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 16th, 2022 10:59
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 29
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

✔ Receive the ebook in seconds ✔ 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • Draven

    Beautiful

  • L. B. Mek

    'Or change the future, pointing
    the finger of blame
    Freedom: within you, the power
    to change'
    Amen!



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.