Rotors Keep Spinning (+2)

Kurt Philip Behm

The sound of a

Huey

the tick of

a clock

Both signal

a warning

what is and

what’s not

 

The flight from

DaNang

that hour till

dawn

Your life in

the balance

to die or

hang on

 

And leave for

the bush

face painted

and dark

Second hand

motion

that tells you

to start

 

As medics

unload

both the wounded

and dead

Rotors

keep spinning

these moments

— of dread

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)

 

 

 

Shadows Forbode

 

Dark forces

conscript

the last moonbeam

As day turns

to night

in the sky

And silence

takes over

the valley

That harbor’s

a final

goodbye

Where light

used to play

in the meadow

Shadows

forbode

laying claim

To what

used to live

in your memory

That dies

in this darkened

— refrain

 

(The New Room: June, 2026)
 
 
 

United Natives of America 7th generation uprisings.
March 24, 2018
  
A Lakota Mothers Prayer
(From: Searching For Crazy Horse)
________________________
 ‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,
  ‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name
‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,
  reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame
As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,
  as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call
The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,
  the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls
“Wana Hin Gle,” my Mother calls proudly,
  “your horse is now ready, your shield fixed with bone
Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight, 
  the People will dance until their son returns home
Wana Hin Gle, you must now happen quickly,
  the buffalo are all captive, starvation allowed
Your eyes look upon the great Wakan Tanka,
  whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud 
As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,
  you must wait for your horse to come out of the lake
Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,
 to your will they entrust what The People forsake
Your vision must suffer, the babies still cry,
  the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight
You must leave us now, but leave us in darkness,
  for when you return, a new vision will burn bright
You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’
  ask the Grizzly, our brother, if the demon still preys
If it does, you must kill it, for this time and always,
  it has hovered above us keeping spirits away
The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,
  and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot
You will trample this demon and burn him before you,
  the smoke will then signal of what he is not
Wana Hin Gle, my son; the time is for going,
  your vision awaits, past-futures on hold
The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,
  your People die waiting—the young and the old”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
  Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2018 

 

Comments +

Comments5

  • sorenbarrett

    Flashes from the past and the Viet Nam war the anxiety of a soldier and the turmoil of noise and wounded and dead. Well written Kurt

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Thanks Soren. Dark times.

  • Katie B.

    Always enjoy reading your work. Bold and moving. Well crafted.

  • Kurt Philip Behm

    Thanks Katie. Always great to hear from you.

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    Kurt, this hit me hard. My father flew Hueys in Vietnam, so the moment I saw that image, I was there with the poem. The combination of the helicopter and the ticking clock is especially powerful...both become reminders that every mission carries uncertainty. A compact poem that carries a tremendous amount of weight. Powerful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

    • Kurt Philip Behm

      Thank your Father (with respect) for his service.



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