Poems from Kurt Philip Behm
That one final
bullet
That one final
dagger
To use
on another
Or to use
— on ourselves
(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
“If thou wouldst
be my critic
Thou must
— wear my soul”
(Woodland Avenue Philadelphia: May, 1973)
Stealing from a thief
those phrases gone
Scales rebalance
words in song
Once recaptured
then released
The chorus joyful
— the world at...
Be home
when opportunity
knocks
Your door
left open
— lights aglow
(Dreamsleep: September, 2024)
Trapped in a
ditch
on the highway
of life
Comings
were going
all motion
had gone
Till fates
saving whisper
in the ear
of tomorrow
Granted...