Seen

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

"In the right eyes, you will be art." - Unknown

How could any set of eyes miss the art
Contained within you? Even those who don’t
Create illumined by you feel your heart:
Acknowledging grace as artists are wont.
Though it is, in truth, the job of poets
To praise beauty; ‘tis thy inspiration –
Arising from your spirit, more than my wit –
That gives birth to these celebrations
Of radiance. All things, seen and unseen;
Love and lust; denial and desire;
The chaos of black, white, and gray between,
Feed the maelstrom of a mind set fire.
   I must give credit where credit is due:
   The world will know these words belong to you.

No More Desire for Light

By Bud Koenemund

I know one way to express devotion:
Offering my entire heart and soul –
Withholding nothing; risking emotion
Perilous; braving passion uncontrolled
By intellect. And, the cost has become
Too dear as torment strips vitality,
Inducing me to wish all feeling numbed –
Surrender slouching toward finality.
In truth, love has caused me nothing but pain.
Though, I doubt any revelation
Of zeal could bring joy when such unrestrained
Affection only invited destruction.
   I will feign no more desire for light;
   Leaving my soul abandoned and blighted.

Wolf and Hind

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

“Is this what you want?” I ask, even as
I squeeze, choking off her breath to reply.
She struggles – tempted and teased; slow and fast –
Her body craves release, which I deny.
Lust will once more transform two into one;
The heat of desire burning our minds;
A hunger for flesh leaves us both undone,
While devouring each like wolf and hind.
Though I am in charge, this domination
Is dual pleasure – mine derived from hers;
Every sense overwhelmed by passion.
When the little death comes, all Reason’s blurred.
   This fire between us can’t be contained;
   Concupiscence – intense and unrestrained.

Unrepentant

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Lady, I do confess, my desire
For you turns bestial. My thoughts border
On the profane – lust burns like a fire –
While reason collapses in disorder.
The more consumed, the faster madness grows,
And I can scarce trust my own intellect.
In the end, this passion will overthrow
My mind as hunger amplifies unchecked.
For concupiscence, I ask no forgiveness.
Unrepentant – holding appetite
No sin – I seek salvation in excess
When your flesh provides heavenly delight.
   I pray; bless my body and damn my soul
   Eternal; for I will you e’er extoll.

All the Words in the World

By Bud Koenemund

How oft’ did verses take birth in your eyes;
As if each glimpse granted inspiration?
I prayed those poems to Heaven would fly,
And sway thy bosom with proofed affection.
I wanted, for us, immortality –
Bestowing fame lasting beyond our years;
This ambition surpassing vanity:
More a devotion of toil and tears.
In the end, though, my efforts achieved
Nothing but changing pain for passion true;
When desire conspired to deceive
An ever foolish man who dared love you.
   This song mourns the impotence of my art;
   For all the words in the world won’t win your heart.

Command Performance

By Bud Koenemund

Just a bit of silliness, really; for D.

O, would-be muse, with skin brown and creamy;
Commanding a little song all your own –
Verses at once poetic and steamy –
While the taste of thy kiss remains unknown.
Shall my pen toil at your beck and call?
Pray, what recompense will this effort gain?
Wilt thou sate these appetites after all?
I do entreat some pleasure for this pain.
Must I rely on fantasy alone
To enkindle such creative fires;
When amorous thoughts leave me all undone,
As I expound on lust and desire?
   Should my words of praise not garner some fee;
   Or, as art for art’s sake, be rendered free?

Hunger

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

I’ll never again feign lust innocence;
Nor pretend my intentions remain pure.
Rather, I admit this concupiscence;
A heat impossible to endure
When both body and mind burn with desire.
I fear an inferno will engulf all;
Demanding ever more, as the fire
Blazes beyond control. I am enthralled –
My hunger increasing with ev’ry taste –
Being consumed, yet yearning further; the toll
A consequence eagerly embraced,
As I surrender my eternal soul.
   Your perfection would tempt angels toward sin,
   And bring devils back to the light again.

Affection's Embers

By Bud Koenemund

(Written: November 2020)

It may sound hyperbolic; cliché;
Or, like silly sentimentality;
But, when I see you, the Sun appears; its rays
Spreading warmth through my soul; a quantity
Of joy absent for decades; sparking light
In a spirit abandoned to darkness.
Your grace kindles desire and delight;
Arousing love lost in a wilderness,
Frozen near to death – now granted new life.
Dare I hope for ecstasy? While the head
Urges caution, my heart has forgot strife –
Seeking a future of passion instead.
   Despite the past, affection’s embers glow;
   Requite my care, and make this fire grow.

Complicated

By Bud Koenemund

(Written: September 2020)

Though I may be thought a fool to reveal
Desire – once more exposing my mind
To misery; tearing scars barely healed
After injuries caused by one unkind –
My soul yearns for thee, regardless of chance!
Ignore the torment in our pasts, and stand
With me. Please forgive this awkward advance,
And, grant the honor of holding your hand.
I, here, offer love willingly, despite
Complications which life can oft’ present;
Endeavoring to make my heart respite
For thine, with affection incandescent.
   Through storms of time, this promise will endure:
   Always and forever in passion pure.

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.

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?

Divided

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Lady; passion and intellect divide
Me. While attraction remains true, I know
Your youth, to my age, is rightly denied.
Like Summer’s bright blooms outshine Winter’s snow,
So doth beauty eclipse infirmity.
Nature favors one as others decline:
Fading steadily in obscurity;
The mortality to which all resign.
What can I do if desire’s forbid?
Only a fool would declare affection –
Exposing an emotion best left hid –
When silence affords certain protection.
   Love is safer wrapped in the guise of art,
   For speaking truth will surely break my heart.

Ars Gratia Artis

By Bud Koenemund

For Arielle

Life has a certain unfairness in it:

Nature entices heart; lust ignores age,

But fate curses me with visage unfit

To woo. Even still, desire rages.

Enkindled by your grace and intellect –

Beauty which transcends mortal countenance –

Language ignites an inferno unchecked,

Though tendered lacking hope of recompense.

Lady, my admiration is undimmed;

Respect enduring despite passing years,

And this confession – converted to hymn –

Sings a chorus I pray will please thy ear.

   Yours lives on though other memories fade –

   A light immortal; proofed ‘gainst end of days.

When I Have a Muse

By Bud Koenemund

For C.

When I have a muse, words fit perfectly;

Finding their places as if by magic,

While airy voices whisper secretly:

Poetry and prose midst verse emphatic.

I labor nonetheless, forging sonnets –

Shaping songs with odd old ends of language;

Bleeding ink on paper. This gift, honest

As it is, oft’ dooms my soul to languish;

Drifting through passionate desperation.

But, by your grace, confidence awakens:

Imagination invents expression,

And desire restores a faith shaken.

   Though form arouses creativity,

   ‘Tis thy genius which sparks my artistry.

Breath

By Bud Koenemund

For K.

My hand was made to fit around your throat,

Enjoying the warmth of caramel skin,

Denying breath as my tongue darts and floats

Over flesh, blissfully drinking you in.

I squeeze, while you gasp, clutching at my wrist;

Mind struggling ‘gainst body’s desire,

A loss of control neither can resist –

Surrendering to burn in this fire;

The passion raging ‘til la petite mort

Erupts with a maelstrom of ecstasy;

Our pleasure and pain thunder as we court

That death before collapsing breathlessly.

   Domination and submission feed lust,

   But love matures in these displays of trust.

Seduction by Art

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

My ambition is seduction by art;

Tempting with lyrics that dance across skin,

As poetry speaks love from tongue to heart;

Stirring desire which blesses such sin.

Your form fires the imagination,

Shaping rhyme; verses take life in those eyes,

And a gloved hand could cause an eruption:

Expressions of fervor for one enskied.

I pray these words will arouse ecstasy –

Undressing body and mind; illicit

Acts to satiate lust: a melody

Of moans unifying flesh with spirit.

   My passion grows beyond concupiscence;

   An oath I trust will excuse this offense.

The Only Way I Know How

Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part VI: Freedom)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Shall a heart incandescent with love be

Consumed by hate? Must one choke the other –

Torment equaling passion’s quantity –

‘Til embers of desire are smothered;

Expiring sans wisp, ash, smoke, or rack –

Token corporeal to signify

Its extinction? Ignored, fervor turns black,

Eclipsing all that light once beautified.

Respect died in a doppelganger’s eye;

Could I not see myself mirrored in him?

Recalling what might have been magnified

My grief, but catharsis yielded freedom.

   Two decades lost can never be regained,

   Though affection lives again unconstrained.

Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part IV: Language Lesson)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

‘Twas a muse who rendered my words useless;

Those I believed most sacred impotent

‘Fore her indifference, and each success

Tainted by reality: a heart rent;

Left without the one thing it desires;

Unable to woo, and incapable

Of forgetting; left burning in fires

Stoked by my own hand – inescapable

Torment. The pen, they say, wields more power

Than a sword, but passionate language pales

Compared to self-doubt, and fortune lours

O’er my naiveté as love lies veiled.

   The scars of this lesson may never heal;

   Wounds remaining forever uncongealed.

Jealous Muse

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

It seems each time a new muse inspires,

The old gets jealous. Imagination

Run amuck. Some unconscious desire,

Perhaps. A bit of self-flagellation;

Punishing my spirit for betraying

Memory; splintering those promises

Set down in so much ink; a mind straying,

Craving the illusion of her kisses.

Countless days past stand proof of devotion,

Or obsession – a defect of reason –

And whispers remain, reviving passion;

Resurrecting my sanity’s treason.

   Thy voice is but a ghost, I do believe,

   Though cannot deny the words I receive.