Kurt Philip Behm Poems

I said it all long ago
once in a poem
Nothing to restate,
no words to explain
...

Writing is a messy feast
where crumbs fall to the floor
to aggregate and congregate
to hide and form and spore
...

No ordered enchantment,
no purpose in luck
No dreams in forgetting,
no lover mistook
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Lingering…
the shadow of his wings
a constant reminder
that love is a covering
...

How looks my love at dawn
in Spring
the air a festive vase
of hope
...

Charted lanes of custom,
complacency alights
familiarity trumping all
—mindless in the night
...

Eenie, Meenie, Miny, Mo,
drums beat loud, a finger shows
Tigers prowl within our reach
—on tippytoes our fate impeached
...

A jazz musician
wonders back
to his days at the keyboard…
each note over practiced
...

My poetry selfish,
a teacher I'm not,
my message once for saying
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Born fully human,
more fully Divine

Our Savior upon us,
...