Kurt Philip Behm Poems

In youth,
my writing slaved beneath my leisure

To answer questions
...

Feeding my soul,
I look at barns
and want inside
...

A father teaches a son
everything he knows...

Sometimes, it
...

Sometimes,
in the shadows
of the early morning light
...

Unto a rose,
flower so sweet

Petals like velvet,
...

Words rushed through my head
clearing cobwebs away

All letters on edge
...

Poetry...
the marriage of
raw emotion,
—and unbridled thought
...