Writing in a vacuum,
the magic seals tight
Writing in a vacuum,
no maybe’s or might
Writing in a vacuum,
words floating pristine
Writing in a vacuum,
nothing fettered between
Writing in a vacuum,
no beginning—no end
Writing in a vacuum,
no enemies—no friends
Writing in a vacuum,
all time is concealed
Writing in a vacuum,
myself is revealed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)
Until Then—Nothing Lost
A four year medallion
A lifetime of pain
The hours put in
Always fighting the strain
One hundredth of a second
Your dream crashes down
The spoils eluded
Someone else with the crown
No pictures or news clips
Today come your way
The prize to another
The trophy at bay
With pity now over
It’s time to begin
The reward in the training
New words to your hymn
So head back to the track
Or your pool or the court
The bar a bit higher
Your coach to retort:
“It’s all up to you
As you reweigh the cost
Never quitting—the magic
Until then nothing lost”
(Watching The Winter Olympics: February, 2014)
A Falling Tide
Our memory—the enemy
Remembering back
To when we were stronger
To when we attacked
But now in our weakness
Remembering when
Our tide was still rising
Our will stronger then
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
A Suture
Poetic transfusion,
prose bleeding through
Words but a suture
—stitching the truth
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: July 8th, 2017 09:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 49
Offline)
Comments3
You may write in a vacuum, but you never suck 😝. Seriously, I enjoy your revelations, sir.
Thanks, Heather
Your poetic sutures soothe many wounds.
I can only wish....
Thanks, A.
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