16 November 2016

Angry Muses

By Bud Koenemund

I fear the Muses have abandoned me;
Withdrawing with them that inspiration
Given so freely when I praised beauty
And love in songs of foolish emotion.
The cause ignored, those Nine of myth recede
In solidarity with their sister;
Mortal, though no less capable to breed
Lyric – a tenth goddess whose whispers stir.
This penance – punishment for protecting
My heart – has crippled both rhythm and rhyme;
As words wither, a poet disaffects
Life sans verses gifted past midnight’s chime.
   Her voice has faded from my memory,
   While creation crumbles in fantasy.

09 November 2016


By Bud Koenemund

“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine
and rage the likes of which you would not believe.”
– Mary Shelley

There is, too oft’, a war within my mind;
‘Twixt Good and Evil; the Dark Side and Light;
Intellect struggling to resist blind
Ignorance as shadows obscure the right.
Like poison unchecked, discontent infects
My soul, arousing inhumanity;
A monster existing disaffected
Toward empathy, risking insanity.
Why must I continue this conflict ‘gainst
Self, denied solace in another’s hand;
Some being like me to re-kindle sense,
Restore hope, and grant ease from life’s demands?
   Solitude only nourishes my rage,
   And bitterness grows as love dies away.