Guilt

By Bud Koenemund

For T.

I stand guilty; entrapped in self-made plight.

Abandoned by fate, sans defense, I fear,

‘Gainst offenses for which I am indict:

Those of madman, lover, and sonneteer.

I did not think this fervor illicit –

Seeking favor by show of affection.

But, it seems my passion’s too explicit;

And heart’s at fault for miscalculation.

The crime? Infatuation. Foul sin? Lust.

Although I swear my intention was pure,

This imperfect world oft’ inhibits trust,

So your pen wrought the prison I endure.

   Though I’ll not carry this shame forever,

   I must lament the amity severed.

Allocution

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I have no choice now but to admit guilt;
The blame, by any measure, 'longs to me
Alone. I will trudge to the gallows built
Atop my shame and deliver that plea;
No remorse tempers this allocution;
Though, one excuse I'll give to mitigate
The crime: My heart was misled by passion –
Fooled into thinking you'd reciprocate.
Much like Will's green-eyed Moor, I have "loved not
Wisely but too well." And, that devotion
Blinded me to truth; leaving a mind fraught
With madness for seeking thy affection.
   On the charge of love I stand convicted;
   My penance, I fear, is self-inflicted.

I Fear Sleep for the Dreams That Often Come

A villanelle for Arthur H. Monigold.


I fear sleep for the dreams that often come
In the darkest hours after midnight,
When my mind is defenseless, my heart numb.

Engulfed in blackness, I sense the phantom
Approach, but I cannot flee, cannot fight;
I fear sleep for the dreams that often come.

Powerless, I am once more his victim.
Past trespass will allow no rest tonight,
When my mind is defenseless, my heart numb.

My innocence again becomes flotsam,
Broken by incestuous appetite;
I fear sleep for the dreams that often come.

The shame of my own guilt becomes tiresome
To bear, though memory will still indict
When my mind is defenseless, my heart numb.

To unrestrained emotions I succumb,
While praying these nightmares fade in day's light.
I fear sleep for the dreams that often come
When my mind is defenseless, my heart numb.

'Tis Sin to Write for Thee Perilous Beauty

For Jamey.

‘Tis sin to write for thee Perilous Beauty,
Praising hair infused with streaks of gold;
While to hold peace is the law and duty,
I here defy God, and so curse my soul;
When by convention I should be silent,
Denying my pen the words you inspire,
Your loveliness compels me to relent,
And thus celebrate eyes cut from sapphire;
In truth, I am a scoundrel to transgress
Upon sacred vows with mellifluent
Rhymes of lips and skin, though I must confess,
I blush at my guilt, but do not repent.
Accuse me not of mere concupiscence,
In faith, my love will serve as my defense.