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133 · Feb 2021
Diamonds In The Rough
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2021
I write for the diamonds,
all quartz to be ******

The populace deafened,
and jaded demand

That anything selfish,
their wills to be pawned

My jewels though not many
—sparkle beyond

(The New Room: February, 2021)
133 · May 2019
Salvation Divine
Kurt Philip Behm May 2019
This poem I read
  at the end of my life…

As I bid you adieu
  from the joy and the strife

A verse filled with hope,
  and with love from within

To carry inside you,
  my song on the wind
  
I’ll try not to preach,
  as others have done

But rather beseech you,
  your songs yet unsung

To love with the strength
  that’s God given inside

And to love even more,
  in an unending rhyme

These words are my gift,
  I bequeath you today

In the hope you’ll remember
  what I last had to say

For I loved you all deeply,
  your kindness I sought

And remember now sweetly,
  those blessings you brought

So I leave you this morning,
  and bid you farewell

I leave you together,
  pledged hearts here to dwell

All strength in your sharing,
  my love to remind
  
Your redemption awaits
  —its salvation divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
133 · Aug 2019
Optimus Amicus
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2019
Is your best friend a dog,
a thesaurus is mine

As yours wags its tail
—mine forever sets me free

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2024
Through the eye of the needle
Not to the left or the right
Dodging both on the comets tail

I streak into the light
My last wish out in front
As words melt in a fiery contrail

And with only one question
To weaken my heart
With only one thing to know

The seasons entwine
All beanstalks are felled
With the exit signs all aglow

I crash through the doubt
Releasing new hope
My affirmation now to reign

And look ever farther
Beyond my scope
As my senses become untrained

I feel the loose pieces
Start to come off
A new lightness here abounds

The last burden has lifted
Burning bright in my wake
Crossing over—turned around

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
133 · Mar 17
New Moon Laughing
The moon unquestioned
has no answers
Between light’s reflection
the coming dawn

One promise chosen
to fill the darkness
One promise chosen
to calm the storm

As planets rally
the moon abandoned
The time for reason
has come and gone

They spin their orbits
and claim reentry
New eyes upon them
new axis spawned

Rotating freely
in pinball madness
Colliding passions
of night’s retreat

A new moon laughing
the death of order
A new moon waiting
— as shadows sleep

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
133 · Oct 2023
Raptors Chase
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2023
A broken wing
in death’s chicane
Where pigeons fall
unending pain

A blinded flock
to circle down
As fangs await
both wolves and hounds

While far above
a falcon stalks
Vision prescient
it never balks

A broken wing
once clipped in fear
the raptors chase
—with canids near

(The New Room: October, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2024
I was somewhere deep in Kansas
on a Triumph 69’
When your song came on the jukebox
and hit me from behind
I was headed for a bad place
and cared for nothing much
When I heard the song ‘Melissa,’
my heart and soul were struck
Entranced, your lyrics captured me
  like nothing had before
When you sang about ‘The Gypsy,’
I headed for the door
But something made me turn around
and grab another dime
Ten more times in that diner’s booth,
still lost within your rhyme
Now back inside the bus station
and sleeping on the bench
I scratch your words into the wood,
last dollar gone and spent
My bike outside against the wall,
the kickstand was long gone
And out of gas, my hopes were dashed…
that unrelenting song
Waking up at ten unsettled,
across the street I pushed
The sign said Triumph-BSA,
the owner Mister Cush
He asked, “What’s with your motor,”
I said “Nothing—out of gas
“But worse I’m out of money,
can I sell the bike for cash?
“Would you please just buy my Triumph,
I know it’s old and worn
“It got me here through seven states,
runs great both cold and warm”
“I’ll pay three hundred on the spot,
on that can we agree?”
We walked back up inside his shop,
three bills he handed me
I thought about a bus ride home,
my thumb looked more in line
Facing East on old route 50,
my heart in deep decline
The first big rig that came along
was bound for York Pa.
The driver said “If you like dogs,
I’ll take you on your way”
In York I caught a fast ride out,
two ‘dodgers’ going North
And got back home with hat in hand,
your song to guide me forth
Two years then passed, I met my wife,
four more and our first child
We named her ‘Sweet Melissa,’
her dad back from the wilds
Now forty years have come and gone,
my beard and hair both gray
I owe you Gregg, and always will,
your song, her name—that day

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

For Gregg Allman
I sent this to Gregg in May, 2017.  It's on his website.
We spent two days together in Richmond Virginia in
a blizzard in 1982.
133 · May 2022
City Hawk
Kurt Philip Behm May 2022
From the top of Penn Center
he chose his first victim
Twenty stories up
as the train rolls below

A solitary pigeon
breaks free of the pack
Its eyes focused downward
for scraps that might show

His wings ever silent
with talons extended
At over a hundred
he drops from the sky

The prey in his clutches
a nest on the spire
where eyas sit waiting
—their mouths open wide

(16th & JFK Boulevard-Philadelphia: May, 2022)
133 · Feb 2017
Truth To Thaw
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2017
A hunter of the frozen past,
  I stalk all time unanswered

To **** the demon inside the ice
  with eyes that burn,
  —its truth to thaw

(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)
133 · Mar 2018
Naked Before The Mob
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2018
When is ‘Almost Good Enough’
  never good enough?

When is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
  an ounce more than enough?

When is ‘Almost What You Need’
  the most you’ll ever have?

When is ‘It’s Not Only That’
  the only thing that’s left?

When is ‘In Almost Every Case’
  not in any case at all?

When is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
  the thing sure to be missed?

When is ‘In Actuality’
  in real terms actually not?

When is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
  the biggest lie you’ll hear?

When is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
  the one you continue to try?

When is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
  the one you repeat again?

When is ‘Really’ not real at all
  and spoken then in vain?

When is ‘Probably’ not probable
   or even close to that?

When is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
  the top of your agenda?

When is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
  strictly out of school?

When is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
  the easiest thing you do?

When is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
  so much harder than before?

When is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
  the end of the debate?

When is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
  the beginning of what comes next?

When is ‘So What’ a euphemism
  for the most important things you do?

When is ‘It Is What It Is’
  categorically not, and never will be?

When is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
  ceramic and for sale?

When is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
  the one taken in disgust?

When is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
   four points more than its worth?

When is the special ‘Love You Lost’
  the only one you’ve never found?

When is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
  the one that flies away?

When is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
  the silence you extol?

When will your words line with copper wire
  to conduct the truth unrobbed

When will you cease to pander and mislead
   —naked before the mob

  
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
133 · Apr 2022
The Token
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2022
While writing verse from now till then,
its toll I humbly paid

Across a bridge where time had stopped
—the truth to pass each way

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
133 · May 2022
Love's Waterloo
Kurt Philip Behm May 2022
I looked at you a thousand times
before I saw you once
You never did look back at me
my vision sorely *******

Till that one day I saw you clear
in substance and in form
But still I longed for one more look
where I still got it wrong

You’re with me now in all I say
and everything I do
Though never more than what this is…
a lovesick waterloo

I wish I could have squinted more
or glanced with just one eye
As stars misled a heart deceived
—my fantasy belied

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
133 · Oct 2016
The Wind
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2016
When the emptiness,
  outweighs the content

The wind,
—forever ceases to blow

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
133 · Apr 2021
Last Chamber Empty
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2021
Illusion to who
or better to whom
the window opens shut
An image ingrained
often betrays
a rose that’s long been plucked
The sun in the moonlight
darkness to burn
a promise made to none
Glory unproud
its victory profane
—the truth an empty gun

(The New Room: April, 2021)
132 · Feb 2019
Calling To Me Dear
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
When I want to visit God,
  I go to the Grand Canyon

Where she talks to me plainly
  and talks to me clear

Staring at eternity
  I look into her depths

As she calls to me familiar
  —and calls to me dear

(Grand Canyon South Rim: February, 2019)
132 · Oct 2021
Ball & Chain
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2021
Hostage to fortune,
prisoner of time

Trophies a burden,
polished and shined

Greed but a jailer,
freedom denied

Hope in confinement
—wishing a crime

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
132 · Mar 2019
Interdiction
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2019
Poetry…
  arresting the mundane
  acquitting the spirit

Convicting
   all redundancy
    —freeing the truth

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
132 · Mar 2019
The Present Instilled
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2019
Writing for tomorrow,
  today is enhanced

Writing for tomorrow,
  my mind and heart dance

Writing for tomorrow,
  my place is affirmed

Writing for tomorrow,
  my name is confirmed

Writing for tomorrow,
  the future reeled in

Writing for tomorrow,
  new moments begin

Writing for tomorrow,
  old crucibles filled

Writing for tomorrow
  —the present instilled

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
132 · Apr 2022
Beatified
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2022
Prayer without indemnity,
prejudice, or blame,
weaponizing Diety…
a dogma-based refrain

Through Him our Divinity
rejoining heart and mind,
to truly know Who reigns supreme
last sacrament defined

Religion like the training wheels
discarded when we we’re young,
to free the rider in the wind
—His spokes forever spun

(Easter Dreamsleep: April, 2022)
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2019
Through the eye of the needle
Not to the left or the right
Dodging both on the comets tail

I streak into the light
My last wish out in front
As words melt in a fiery contrail

And with only one question
To weaken my heart
With only one thing to know

The seasons entwine
All beanstalks are felled
With the exit signs all aglow

I crash through the doubt
Releasing new hope
My affirmation now to reign

And look ever further
Beyond my scope
As my senses become untrained

I feel the loose pieces
Start to come off
A new lightness now abounds

The last burden has lifted
Burning bright in my wake
Crossing over—turned around

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
132 · Feb 2024
Inside Out
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2024
Last night
I was able
to outgrow myself …
again
for the very
first time

Life was unspun
in the moment
relayed
where tomorrow
and yesterday
rhyme

Competing with
the future
the sky
and the moon
my wandering
complete

Turning my
destiny
inside out
my nature
expanding
—replete

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
132 · Jul 2019
Black Diamond Embrace
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2019
Selecting the misery,
crown jewel of my pain

To wear like a necklace,
but serve as a chain

Its dark stone on fire,
all light one’s defaced

Reset in a solitaire
—black diamond embrace

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
132 · Jan 2019
Released
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
The baser instincts
  within a higher calling
   —pain rewrapped in joy

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)
132 · Jun 2017
His Wishing Well
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2017
Always drawn to stronger women,
  in a cerebral kind of way

He missed the charm of a softer maiden,
  the joy her flowers splayed

He married a woman just like him,
  who made life a living hell

To die while dreaming of that one sweet lass,
  her heart—his wishing well

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
132 · Jan 2019
Our Essence To Bear
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
What if the Universe has always been here,
  defeating the concept of time

Never beginning and never to end,
  whose story you cannot define

What if the future, present, and past,
  are just crutches for the weakness we share

What if the answers lie beyond logic,
   inside us—our essence to bear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)
132 · Jun 2023
To Astrud
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2023
A voice that still haunts me
and lives in my dreams
The first time I saw her
a boy of sixteen

She lived just a mile
from where I am now
A treasure so hidden
to whose memory I bow

The Samba and Rio
she took me along
Yet barely a man
making love to her song

My eyes can still close
and return to that beach
where my heart she first captured
—and never released

(The Day Astrud Gilberto Died: June 5, 2023)
132 · Jun 2022
1954
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2022
I remember the smell of beer
going down the back steps
The keg under the dartboard
the men in long sleeves
Being carried by my grandfather
and each uncle one by one
Old Spice and English Lavender
as hugs and kisses were exchanged
The garage door open to the back yard
where music was playing
The bride throwing her bouquet
girls screaming with glee
I was six years old when they married
Eisenhower’s picture in the hall
The smell of the fresh cut grass
and cigarette smoke mixing freely outside
It was the best of all possible times
God and country held us tight
The best of all possible times
—as hope and laughter filled the air

(Family Wedding: June, 1954)
132 · Apr 2021
Leaving Tomorrow
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2021
Running toward my yesterdays,
the future in pursuit

The loosest ends when left undone
—the past my guilt recruits

(Dreamsleep: April, 2021)
132 · May 23
Escaping The Hourglass
YEARS
into months
MONTHS
into weeks
WEEKS
into days
DAYS
into hours
HOURS
into minutes
MINUTES
into seconds
SECONDS
into moments
MOMENTS
— sublime

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
132 · May 2022
Your Smile
Kurt Philip Behm May 2022
Loneliness visits
when stranded alone
Confirming the emptiness
—lost to bemoan

The darker the moment
the thicker it spreads
To lie and to cover
—my spirit in dread

It blocks every motion
I make to get out
Its shroud to enshadow
—within and without

As somber it tenants
it knows all the while
Its life but a memory
—the moment you smile

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
132 · Jul 2017
An Artists Prayer
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2017
To share in Creation
—is to become Divine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
131 · Oct 2022
Pateras Potamos
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2022
Come to me Achelous
river without tears
Carry me distant
away from my fears

Direction is onward
Olympus bestows
Hermes in orbit
directing the flow

At home in your waters
whose currents surpass
Defining my history
from first to the last

Your torrent unbridled
the eye of the storm
I drift in your motion
—alive and reborn

(Dreamsleep: October, 2022)
131 · Dec 2022
Before The Flood
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2022
Death was invented
when life tired of the living
Eternity flexing
—the muscles of time

(Dreamsleep: November, 2022)
131 · Apr 2017
My Parting Wish
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2017
When lost inside a world of dreams,
  the Muse becomes my guide

The days and nights stand juxtaposed,
  the sun and moon collide

And though my eyes desert me now,
  the past and future blind

My parting wish is not to wake,
—this sleep forever mine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
131 · Dec 2016
Lunacy's Bliss
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Checking the pulse
  on insanity’s wrist

Its beat never constant,
—as demon’s persist

The pressure to rise,
  with each maddening twist

Whose heart then to burst,
—into lunacy’s bliss

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
131 · Feb 6
Plasma Of Time
My heart bled
and writing
was an open wound
As words
poured out
in hemorrhaged pleadings
No suture
or hemostat
clotting their flow
The nearer
the end
the harder it pumped
In gushing
pulsations of
finality  
Bleeding out
what time
— could never give back  

(Dreamsleep: February, 2025)
131 · Mar 2024
Box Canyon
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2024
You can’t close the door
that opens inside
Or bottle the morrow
today seeks to hide
You can’t erase feelings
like words on a page
Or trap a new lover
— with yesterday’s cage

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)
131 · Nov 2018
Armed & Dangerous
Kurt Philip Behm Nov 2018
My thoughts are my weapons,
  my pen is my sword

My will is my whetstone,
  my Knighthood
    —my Lord

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2014)
131 · Jan 2017
The Mirror
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2017
You hate in your enemy,
  what you love most in yourself

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016)
131 · Jun 2023
Freed In Song
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2023
Caught within a dying art form
a lyricist passed by
(saying)
“Music is my lord and master
it makes the phrases fly”

Writing lines of words unwedded
the ink once dry is set
Time and memory freed in song
—the poet to forget

(Villanova University: June, 2023)
131 · Jun 2023
The Road
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2023
24 hours
alone with myself
the road goes on and on

24 hours
in my own space
exemption rides along

24 hours
eternity breached
its imagery returns

24 hours
tomorrow today
whose light forever burns

24 hours
becoming undone
the parts fall back in place

24 hours
the wind at my back
withdrawing from the race

24 hours
a voice calls my name
in birth year reverie

24 hours
my soul to reclaim
in what was meant to be

24 hours
Kerouac ******
a false reflection shown

24 hours
each road sign that calls
direction out on loan

24 hours
the moment reframed
once lost but now refound

24 hours
24 lifetimes
—inward outward bound

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)
Kurt Philip Behm Jul 2024
Chapter 20: The Formality Of Acceptance

As he entered the village, it was not what he expected ...

“The women are in the process of building a great fire. Before you can be asked to sacrifice on behalf of The People, you have to be honored and formally welcomed into Piegan society,” said Jimmy.

Cutty wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure of one thing—there was no mistaking honor when it rose up to greet you. “These people may be down on their luck, but their fundamental spirit is intact.” He repeated this sentiment to Jimmy. “Only because you returned tonight, Major.”

Only Because You Returned!

Cutty and Jimmy had walked through the trees with the big white horse at Cutty’s side. Behind the horse had walked the rest of the Piegan Tribe: First Stoneheart with the Council of Elders, then the Warrior Societies, then the Hunters, and finally the Women and Children.

Everyone From The Tribe Had Come Out To Greet Him

The big horse had neither bridle nor rein but seemed to know exactly what was happening and where they were going. That was good, because Cutty hadn’t been sure. In times like these he had learned that the most successful route was the one of least resistance.

He had slowly walked beside the large stallion by the light of the three-quarter moon—with the torchbearers all behind him. The few times he had slowed down to make sure they were still on the trail the horse had lowered his head on Cutty’s right shoulder and brushed his cheek.

“It’s almost as if he understands why I’m not riding him,” Cutty had thought to himself.

The big white stallion was reminiscent of the one The Emperor had ridden during ceremonial parades in front of the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. He could now hear the women chanting behind him, and their voices were raised in what sounded like somber celebration.

The path opened up into a wide broad area with burning campfires and clapboard shacks extending as far as the eye could see. “So, this is what a modern-day Indian Camp looks like,” Cutty thought out loud.

Jimmy could tell that Cutty was confused as he said: “Only the elders and medicine workers live in teepees, Major. The rest of the tribe lives in wooden shacks that are both cold in the winter and hot in the summer. Many of the People have lost their way and for that reason the Siksika have been able to prey on us so.”

The Piegan Were Caught In A Time Warp Between The Old And The New

The next voice he heard was that of Chief Stoneheart coming up on the left side of his horse from behind. “Ichiban, would you please mount the white horse as we approach the fire? It would mean so much to the People.”

Cutty’s initial feeling was one of embarrassment.

His mind flashed back to the story of Jesus triumphantly entering Jerusalem on the back of a donkey as people waved palm leaves at him in celebration. His self-consciousness was again tempered by the importance of observing local customs. He had learned this on several continents, and it had served him well.

After Stoneheart had passed by—and was now in front of him—Cutty spun 180 degrees throwing his right leg high into the air and over the back of the big horse. Like all good horses, this one immediately knew that he was now in the hands of an experienced rider. Cutty sat motionless on the horse’s back as it slowly made its way toward the flames.

Wooden shacks had been built in a circle around a large stone-rimmed fire pit. It reminded Cutty, in a strange way, of the squares or pracas he had seen in Portugal. Three women were standing inside the large pit and had lighted a fire. The flames danced in the moonlight as Cutty wondered what was coming next.

Then Instinct Overtook Intellect

Without fully understanding why, Cutty reared the stallion up on its two hind legs. He kept the horse in this position for what seemed like forever, before patting it on its right wither and dropping it down on all fours. It was then that he charged.

Cutty charged up the right side of the fire pit at a full gallop. He rode completely around until he was back where he started from—but he did not stop. He drove the horse even faster around the fire, two more times, before rearing him up again in front of Chief Stoneheart and the Council of Elders. The entire tribe was blinded by the aura of Ichiban. Cutty whispered something into the horse’s ear before dismounting in one fluid movement.

“So, you speak to horses too, Ichiban,” said Stoneheart, as he touched the stallion’s mane. “You two seem to know each other well. Maybe from a previous life?” Stoneheart said these words with the first smile Cutty had seen from him since leaving the train station in Missoula.

“There is nothing like a good horse,” Cutty said back to the Chief, as Stoneheart escorted him to a place of honor.

Cutty was being led to the southern end of the fire pit, when Stoneheart asked him to turn around. The women had all stopped chanting, and in a louder voice than all of the women combined—Stoneheart began. As he chanted, he raised both arms to the sky and rotated slowly.

Cutty Was Discovering Just How Important The ‘Circle’ Was To Native Americans

Stoneheart rotated in two complete circles—first to his right and then to his left—before stopping where he had started directly in front of Cutty. This reminded Cutty of the many Katas he had practiced—always finishing in the same spot he had started from.  Stoneheart never lowered his head as his eyes had been fixed on the night sky.

“That sky is almost as impressive as the one over the Himalayas,” Cutty thought.

Stoneheart ended his chanting and turned to face The People. His head was now down as he started a slow and rhythmic dance around the fire.



Chapter 21: The Dance

One by one, they fell in behind Stoneheart dancing their way around the fire. Each tribal member had their own personal interpretation of the drumbeat as they danced through the mixture of moon glow and firelight.

Jimmy had now walked up to Cutty and was standing beside him.

“This is all in your honor, Major. The People can feel the magic of this night, and to them the magic is only real when it is felt in the heart. Stories, and the retelling of legends, don’t often create what they are feeling at this moment. After they have completely circled the fire, they will one by one take a seated position around the circular stones.

When the last dancer is seated, Chief Stoneheart will stand again and raise his arms to the sky. He will then chant a Blackfoot Piegan poem of thankfulness and lower his arms in your direction.

“That will be your invitation to dance, Major. I know this might make you uncomfortable, but it is a great honor to be asked to dance in front of the entire tribe. It will bring untold meaning to everyone. It won’t matter how you dance as long as The People can feel the spirit of your movement.”

When the last dancer was seated, Stoneheart rose with his arms reaching for the sky. It reminded Cutty of when he stood in front of Captain Nagata while first being introduced aboard the great Japanese warship—the Kagoshima Sun.

Eternal Moments Are Never Measured In Blocks Of Time

Chief Stoneheart dropped both of his arms with palms up in Cutty’s direction. He then spread them widely in a gesture of welcome.

Cutty had never really danced and was known as a notoriously bad dance partner both by Adrian and by the few girls he had tried to dance with at Academy *****. He knew he was bad, but there was one thing he could do better than anyone of his generation. He retracted his Katana from the Saya (scabbard) on his belt.  The entire tribe sat motionless—feeling his power—waiting for what he would do next.

“KIAI”

Without warning, Cutty let out with the loudest vocalization anyone seated had ever heard. It filled the night sky, as it bounced off the mountains with its echo of immortality. The power of its reverberation infused into the tribe, and for the first time they felt the connection between themselves and this ancient warrior.

He would share his spirit with them, and their hearts would be renewed. Their ancestors were now looking down from above and smiling at what they saw.

Cutty had watched Stoneheart as he danced around the fire. His movements seemed much slower than the other (younger) dancers, but they had a subtleness to them that seemed to contain great meaning. The other dancers—no matter how energetic—could not capture the feeling that had poured out of his every movement. He knew he could not dance like that.

Cutty Raised His Katana Over His Head With Both Hands

He then dropped his head, before beginning Kata #8. It was the same Kata that he had performed for the crewmembers of the Kagoshima Sun. This form, when done perfectly, took exactly ninety seconds to complete. It was based upon a circular attack, and Cutty would have to amplify its movements to be able to make it around the fire as its last strike was ****** into the air.

Cutty KIAI’d again! He then leaped forward with both feet while striking with his sword both right and left. He jumped and rotated in mid-air, striking an imaginary opponent with a downward killing blow as he landed.

Opponent after imaginary opponent was slain as he made his way around the fire. Everyone seated was frozen in amazement as this intrepid warrior vanquished his enemies in ways that they had never seen. He swept the blade through the embers of the fire as he passed between tribal members seated in front of him.

Not One Of Them Ever Moved Or Flinched

In the shadow of the fire’s glow, there appeared to be three warriors dancing and slaying their enemies. Cutty made his way back to his starting position and then KIAI’d again before dropping his head. It was customary—in Samurai tradition—at this point for someone of authority to release him from his exercise. Captain Nagata had released him while on ship with the command “MOKUSO YAME!”

Cutty Stood Silent With His Head Down In The Firelight

A red-tailed hawk then cried out in the distance, as Stoneheart rose with his arms extended and again started to chant. Cutty took this as the signal for his release. He sat down where he stood and waited for what Stoneheart was going to do next.

Every member of the tribe was still seated and facing Cutty, many with their backs to the fire. Jimmy got up from where he was sitting and took a position just behind Cutty. Two young boys had also walked over and were now sitting quietly beside him.

Stoneheart Finished His Chant And Began To Speak

As Jimmy translated, Stoneheart told those seated that…

“Tonight is a new chapter in the history of the Blackfoot Piegan People. A warrior has been shot from the bow of all that is good, and he has come to free the Piegan from our enemies and to resurrect our spirit. He is a warrior who has fought many battles and walked on foreign lands—lands that we can only wonder about. His enemies have been many in the pursuit of his honor. Early on, he conquered the only enemy that might ever truly defeat him—and that was fear.”

Cutty smiled inside himself, as Jimmy translated Stoneheart’s final words.

“The wisdom of savages,” he remembered the Colonel once saying. If anything savage had happened—since first meeting the three Piegan at the station—Cutty wanted no further part of what posed as civilization.

Stoneheart looked at Not-Many-Prisoners and, with sign language, instructed him on something he wanted done. Jimmy did not translate this, but the look on his face showed total disbelief.

“What’s the matter, Cadet; is something wrong? Is it something I did?”

“No, Major; there is nothing wrong. A new chapter in the long history of the Blackfoot Piegan People is being written tonight—a chapter that none of us had ever foreseen. Please remain seated until Chief Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners come to get you.”

Cutty looked back and forth across the fire. Every member of the tribe was looking directly at him, and they were shaking their heads up and down.  Several of the men had gotten up and followed to where Not-Many-Prisoners had walked off into the darkness.

“I wonder what kind of ceremony comes next,” thought Cutty. “I hope it is accompanied with food.”

His Stomach Had Started To Growl



Chapter 22: The Intercession

Two women—seated to Cutty’s right—approached him and started to tug at his blouse. He was instantly confused at this strange behavior, as Jimmy said: “Please give it to them, Major. The reason will become clear before the night is out.”

With a slight bit of embarrassment, Cutty removed his military blouse. The brass buttons reflected the fire’s light as the women walked off into the dark.

Cutty stood there naked from the waist up as every scar he had ever suffered in battle seemed to dance across his body. The People were mesmerized by these scars and started to talk among themselves.

“Holy Markings,” said Jimmy. “They see your scars as something holy, and in their storytelling, they will become symbols of reverence. It has been a long time since any of them have seen scars made by a sword, and this will only add to the sense of immortality that they already feel for you.

This is a truly magical night, Major; and the best part is still to come. I hope you can feel what we are all feeling.”

The Best Part Still To Come

Cutty started to feel the cold and moved closer to the fire. He tried to do it inconspicuously so that no one would notice, but an old woman sitting on the other side of the fire was watching him with great interest. She stood up and started to walk his way. When she got to where he was sitting, she removed the blanket she was wearing from around her shoulders and wrapped it across and over his back.

Her Head Was Down

Her eyes were almost closed, and she never looked up, as Cutty turned to thank her. Jimmy said something to the old woman in Piegan, and she stopped and turned around. Cutty reached out for her right hand and pulled her down closer to him by the fire.

He stared deeply into the old woman’s eyes. There was a wrinkled and withered beauty to her face that he had never seen before. Every line and crack seemed to be hiding something of extreme importance.

Cutty could feel the power come through her hand, as her eyes never blinked. She was another one of those kindred spirits who had seen more than can be observed in any one lifetime.

Cutty smiled and asked the old woman for her name. “Mimiteh,” the woman said as she held on to Cutty’s hand. “New Moon,” said Jimmy.

“The old woman’s name translates to New Moon. She has been a source of knowledge and renewal within our tribe for many years. No one is certain how old she is, but her stories go back to before the whites came to our land. She is one of only two people who can talk directly to the Old One and enter her teepee unannounced.”

After looking the old woman in the eye, Cutty said: ”She has stories that go back much further than that—further than even the Piegan language can tell.”

As she got back up and started to leave, Cutty repeated her name. She turned once more in his direction and said: “The wind only blows—and the waters only run—in the shadow of your spirit. The Piegan People now live in that shadow, waiting for a new dawn.”

A New Dawn

Cutty tried to speak to the old woman again as another woman wrapped her blanket around Mimiteh and led her away. “That other woman is Hanata, the mother of Stoneheart,” Jimmy said. “It is best now to just let them go about their work.”  

A new drumbeat had started in the distance as Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners walked back around the fire. Cutty stood up to meet them as Jimmy looked over his right shoulder. The two Piegan Elders flanked Cutty on each side and walked him toward the darkness.

No one spoke, as they walked quietly along a narrow trail. The moon’s light was hidden by the cottonwood branches above—spread out in full bloom—and acting as a canopy.

Cutty looked back over his shoulder, but Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where they were going and how long it would take. After ten minutes of slow walking, Cutty heard the sounds of running water. The drumbeat had gotten louder, and now seemed close, as it magnified each image inside Cutty’s imagination.

As they got closer to the stream, Cutty could see that it angled steeply down from a ravine high above. The moon’s light was again visible along its banks. There were seven teepees going up the stream’s rise. They were spread twenty to thirty feet apart, and there were curious writings and drawings on their outsides.

Stoneheart and Not-Many-Prisoners walked Cutty by six of the teepees not stopping until they arrived at the last one. It was situated at the top of a short rise where the land leveled off and he could see for miles even in the dark. Cutty could hear voices inside, and he could see the glow of a fire through the teepee’s deerskin covering.

The Other Six Teepees Had Been Dug Into The Gently Sloping Bank

Stoneheart took the blanket from the back of Cutty’s shoulders as Not-Many-Prisoners bent down and pulled back the flap. “Please enter, Ichiban,” Stoneheart said. “Please enter this teepee as a visitor for the last time.”

Cutty ducked his head and stepped under the flap. In the center of the tepee was a smaller version of the stone-ringed fire pit they had just danced around. Ten Blackfoot Piegan men were seated cross-legged around the fire. Cutty was led to a seat of prominence, at the very back of the teepee, where he could see the entrance when he looked straight ahead.

Stoneheart walked back around the fire and took a seat right in front of the flap. He was now 180 degrees across from Cutty and sat cross-legged as the rest. Cutty also crossed his legs.

For a long time, there was silence inside the ancient dwelling with the crackling of juniper wood the only sound being made. Cutty thought it brought peace—along with great warmth—as the spirits of those seated chased away the past.

Old Memories Were Now Free To Leave, As New Ones Rose From The Flames
131 · Dec 2016
Time And Again
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2016
Poetry is more than words,
  some is written—some is heard

Often long—yet sometimes short,
  its power shared in strong retort

Questions cry—demanding verse,
with feelings new, still unrehearsed

Its focus like a laser aims,
  at souls that search—time and again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
131 · Oct 2018
Beyond The Sash
Kurt Philip Behm Oct 2018
A window framed with memory
  emits the brightest light

Its lock and hasp long since removed
  a journeyman’s delight

Casting off the millstone
  the rock of age has come

Where darkness hides beyond the sash
  —inside a rising sun

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
131 · Dec 2022
Here & There
Kurt Philip Behm Dec 2022
Beyond the future
you find the past
Hiding in the present
—first and last

(Dreamsleep: December, 2022)
131 · May 2017
House Arrest
Kurt Philip Behm May 2017
Kidnapped by the Muses,
   sentence now unknown

Thoughts are held for ransom,
  will denied the throne

Kingdom banned in exile,
  usurper in control

Welcoming confinement,
—house arrest extolled

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
131 · Mar 2018
Cutting In
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2018
The music stepped aside,
  as the words cut in to dance

Painting the floor red
  in lettered steps of eternity

To a song now consonant
  in verses of celebration

Thoughts and feelings remarry
—in patterns of remembrance

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
131 · Jul 15
Locked Away
Walking across
a college campus
classes done till Fall
I hear those lessons
never taught
on winds that truth recalls
The questions that we
used to prize
now locked away in files
To favor dogma’s
jagged edge
— in deaf self-serving bile

(Villanova University: July, 2025)
131 · Apr 2019
Time Unspun
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2019
Looking in not out,
  the picture cleared

Problems solved,
  both far and near

Motion closed,
  entropic sum

Space inflated
  —time unspun

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
131 · Aug 2018
May It Be Said
Kurt Philip Behm Aug 2018
The kingdom of knowledge
  to its crown we are wed

Its light our betrothal
  its heavens our bed

The words ever regal
  trousseau not to beg

Thus will it be written
  —thus will it be said

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
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