Kurt Philip Behm Poems

No one ever dies for an idea,
until it changes to a feeling

No one ever dies for a feeling
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All of life happens
—between the crest and the trough

(Molokai Hawaii: February,1989)
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Obeying any moral law,
reason wills unto itself

To play the game the way its staged
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Art must be transcendent
to justify itself

It must leave its creator
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The logic of life…
illogically pure

In search of itself,
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Is beauty connected,
or to a vacuum condemned

Is truth then required,
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I don't have to slay the dark,
my verse, the wolf unleashed

I don't have to court the devil,
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My fervent wish to die alone,
beyond the maddening crowd

My last thoughts then to be my own,
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Sculpting with his words,
the verse carved through the silence,
—until screaming loud
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