Pain

By Bud Koenemund

For T.

There is no pain like love unrequited –
Suffering which follows passion denied –
Save torment found in longing unvoic’d;
An anguish the heart endures in silence.
Indeed, these agonies hurt equally;
Each torturing body, spirit, and soul;
Impossible for mortal man to quell
Before that day when fate’s final bell tolls.
‘Tis no secret this emotion is fraught
With danger – a leap leaving all exposed
In hopes another will share the same thought:
Becoming one from two; by love enclosed.
   No solace inhabits a mind abused;
   Tell her, or do not – I can only lose.

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?

Heart for Heart

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

My affection was never held secret;

Attraction confessed; with all its defects,

Sentiment lay exposed from the outset;

Unguarded; lust defeating intellect.

I offered self, desiring the same –

Heart for heart, hand for hand, and soul for soul;

Love enkindling passion without shame;

Intense spirits blazing beyond control.

But, yearning could not win respect, and pleas

Fell on ears deaf to solicitation.

Emotion withered, leaving me lonely,

As desolation replaced devotion.

   Despite intention pure, and honor sworn,

   Everything was too much to ask for.

No Good Deed

By Bud Koenemund

For T.

I never kept my attraction secret,

Rather, regard was too often laid bare.

Yet, I gave comfort, asking no credit,

And thy judgment censured a soul who cared.

Your rebuke, undeserv’d, cut deeply –

A jagged edge drawn, and kindness repaid

With crimson rivers – the wounds still seeping

As you reappeared, once more seeking aid.

How should I answer thee? Open my heart

To thy pleas despite these scars I carry;

When what remains is but the worser part

Of me, and better nature lies buried?

   Charity strives ‘gainst a spirit vanquished;

   For no good deed, they say, goes unpunished.

Of Ice Cream, Laughter, and "Shakespeare in Love"

A fantasy in sonnet form.

For Kristen Brownell.

Fingers trace over secret paths explored –
Each curve and cleft now mapped in memory.
Kisses and whispers linger on lips, as your
Scent drifts on an air of avidity;
With the gravity of a dying sun
We pull together, two bodies aflame;
Our flesh – now fire and fuel – joins as one,
Surrendering to this lust without shame;
Fresh hunger drives us. We consume the world,
Yet desire more as the appetite seems
To increase; even while pleasures unfurl –
Pushing our passion to the verge of dream.
This madness grows with every ragged breath,
‘Til we are enskied by our little deaths.