Stupid

By Bud Koenemund

Sadly, regarding matters romantic,
I have rarely lacked for stupidity;
While love turns my nature sycophantic,
No lady requites this avidity.
Madness arises as passion displays
Intensity in emotion – all or
Nothing; the only way I know – unswayed
By complications; my vow: to adore.
Though defective Reason cannot excuse
Patterns that seem an addiction to pain,
The mind suffers when a heart is abused;
Leaving senses suspect, and doubt ingrained.
   For my ignorance, time will grant no cure;
   Nor patience, this agony, to endure.

At First Sight

By Bud Koenemund

For Julianne.

I am a “love at first sight” kind of guy;
Always have been, despite a desire
To protect my heart – defying my eyes –
And, thus proof the soul ‘gainst passion’s fire.
Courting ruin, I relish “the flutter;”
That mix of madness, infatuation,
And weakness; lust rendering thoughts a blur
Of hopes and dreams burning bright as the sun.
But, this emotion is tinged with sadness;
A wish that I were a better poet,
And possessed the words needed to express
How I long for space within thy orbit.
   ‘Tis foolish to live a Romantic when
   The magic of love lies beyond my ken.

Why I Can Not Write a Sonnet for You

For Catherine Harren Barufaldi

Ms. Barufaldi, with humble regrets,
I am unable to grant your request
For a sonnet that my own hand begets,
As my words rarely flow at mere behest;
Also, your marital status precludes
The penning of romantic verse or rhyme,
Which – as you know – a true sonnet includes,
This threat’s to turn the poet into mime;
Further, creating for a married Muse
Could lead to a dangerous consequence,
Like Writer assault or Poet abuse,
Leaving this scrivener beat out of sense.
Please, feel free to make future inquiry,
At present, though, I must dodge injury.