Voices

By Bud Koenemund

The voices are always louder at night;
When I’m alone; vulnerable to their
Influence; criticism which ignites
Self-doubt and –hatred; heightening despair.
Too oft’, these condemnations seem substance:
“You’re not worth affection.” “Who could love a beast?”
“She’s out of your league.” “You have no chance!”
“Why try?” “Just give up, and accept defeat.”
The enemies inside grow insistent –
A treason battering weak defenses –
Overwhelming what little resistance
I can offer to protect my senses.
   How does one combat a mind seditious;
   Obscuring reason with thoughts malicious?

Liberty's Sunrise

 By Bud Koenemund

A haiku to celebrate the election of Joseph R. Biden

Inspired by Catherine Harren Barufaldi

The Woods are Lovely, Dark, and Deep

 By Bud Koenemund

It’s sneaky, see? Re-appearing when least
Expected. I’ll be happy for a while;
Then, suddenly, devoured by the beast;
Sanity made hostage to thoughts vile.
Although darkness offers comfort – release
From frustration and pain – the depression
Lies; breeding torment rather than peace;
Promising a void unknown as solution.
This is the conflict raging through my mind –
Each day I wake another battle won
Against myself. Yet, even triumph finds
Reason dragged closer to coming undone.
   True, I oft’ crave the ease of surrender;
   But, trials and woe remain ‘fore slumber.

I Can Fly Again

 By Bud Koenemund

Holding your hand, by and by, I can fly
Again; soaring across the universe;
Whirling beyond galaxies; defying
Gravity; past forms Heavenly diverse.
Wonders surpassing words unfold ‘round me,
Bathing all in both darkness and fire.
Yet, it is your touch which sets my mind free
From restraint; thy beauty inspiring
Ethereal peace – a body at rest,
Even as this tempest of creation
Engulfs my brain: fantastic visions that test
The limits of imagination.
   Wakefulness brings torment, and so it seems
   I can find solace only in my dreams.

Dragon's Breath

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

I’m thinking of you wearing that turquoise

Sundress; incandescent in the twilight.

Longing sparks a fire; spirits rejoice;

Embracing until o’ertaken by night.

Shadows disguise; clothes bunch ‘round knees and waists;

Mouths meet hungrily, then whispers implore;

Inhibitions are abandoned to haste;

Flames intensify as fingers explore.

Lust envelopes us in the Dragon’s breath;

Two bodies become one, while heat radiates

From flesh demanding a little death:

That paradise where desire’s sated.

   We are consumed when our passion explodes;

   Then reborn to worlds of pleasures untold.

Blue Eyes Blue

By Bud Koenemund

For K.

I see the sadness hidden in your eyes;

A pain you try to bury, which lurks still;

Nearer the surface than you know; disguised,

Yet visible; lingering ‘gainst thy will.

Heartbreak and loneliness are compounding

Sorrows; breeding doubt; confusing every

Setback with tragedy; poisoning

The soul. But, trust time will dull memory,

Allowing you to heal. Made whole once more;

Emerging stronger; by love enfolded;

The gleam renewed in those sapphire orbs –

Shining like sunlight thawing Winter’s cold.

   My intent is these verses bring delight;

   A smile, if brief, to draw day from night.

Are You Listening Now?

By Bud Koenemund

For America

As people of color complained about

Jobs, housing, police, and education,

You deflected their issues while touting

401Ks; stock market inflation:

A rising tide that failed to lift all boats.

You fucked the poor as the rich got bigger;

Even schemed at ways to erase their votes,

Yet wonder why anger has been triggered.

You objected when they knelt peacefully –

For Trayvon, Eric, Ahmaud, George, and more –

Insisting “They should have been respectful!”

While wanting protests easy to ignore.

   Tonight, cities burn, and people lie bowed;

   America, are you listening now?

I Make No Secret of My Desire

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

My mind, Lady, I do confess, is filled –
Both awake and in slumber – with fantasies;
Visions erotic from morn through star gilt
Night – illusions bending sanity
Toward madness – dreams that, while wanton, reveal
Subconscious adoration. This lust bears
Certain truth; passion cannot be concealed
For one with whom only Venus compares.
I make no secret of my desire;
A longing, concupiscent to be sure;
Yet, in faith, ‘tis zeal tempered by fire;
Sin purged through the flames, leaving purity.
   But, will transgression be called blasphemy,
   When praising a Goddess in ecstasy?

Tempus Fugit

By Bud Koenemund

In consciousness rises the poet’s plight:

Cursed with knowing time is fleeting; slipping

Past; each moment another dying light;

As, from our birth, those flames are flickering.

Days lost become years; progressing quickly,

Faded and forgotten; surrendered to

Accelerating relativity,

‘Fore the call of skills neglected renews.

Imagination yearns for expression,

And – as this journey hastens toward its end –

A stab at immortality; Passion

Racing the doom we cannot comprehend.

   Crafting perfection is my endeavor;

   Some scrap of verse that will live forever.