Grief

By Bud Koenemund

Grief will never refuse a chance to sneak
Up on me – quickening darkness; breeding
Sorrow; tearing apart defenses weak;
Leaving sanity broken and bleeding.
It taints the verses of a thousand songs;
Barely remembered poems can spark life;
Trapping my mind amidst numberless wrong
Turns – where memory waits with whetted knife.
This monster aims not to kill, but open
Wounds thought healed by time; renewing my pain.
Misery, faded – almost forgotten –
Returns, overwhelming what peace I’ve gained.
   Someday, one hopes, suffering may convert;
   For now, there are no days it doesn’t hurt.

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.

Indomitable

By Bud Koenemund

For Shaindel Beers

I wish to protect thee – in my fashion.

Drop everything, rush there, and shield you

From the world; from doubt; from yourself; dragons

Immortal; fears forever pursuing.

Training dictates action, see? My father;

Gary Cooper; John Wayne; the Infantry;

Always taught to defend the weak – rather

Smothering with attempts at chivalry.

‘Tis ever man’s hubris, I’ve learned: seeking

To support a survivor; these labors

Merely re-arranging deck chairs, sinking

Slowly into comments on the décor

   While you heal; for thou art no damsel

   In distress, but a heart indomitable.

I Still Cut Myself Open on Your Words

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I still cut myself open on your words;
Once more replacing the numbness with pain;
Slicing through my psyche, trying to purge
Thoughts of you, as if blood could help regain
Years wasted, sanity rent, or the pride
Sacrificed pursuing false memories.
Innocence led me to believe your lies –
Seeming to offer love, answering pleas –
But, the more I tried to embrace your heart –
Clutching in vain at an ethereal
Emotion – the faster you tore apart
My world; making life immaterial.
   While wounds may scab over, time will not heal
   The burning torment of the shame I feel.

Knowing

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

The worst thing about you leaving – again –
Is knowing in my soul you will come back.
Sure as the dark of night and April rain,
You'll return to heal yourself as you wrack
My sanity once more. I fear you'll wait
Until I've somehow patched together a
Heart you've crushed before. Alas, 'tis my fate
To be punished for the sin of love; flayed
Alive by your indifference; my will
Exiled to the wasteland of rejection,
And devotion exposed as a windmill
I charge heedless of my own destruction.
   Passion I held stronger than gravity
   Has yielded to painful lucidity.

Doubt Not Thy Face Will Feel the Sun Again

For TK

Doubt not thy face will feel the sun again,
And bask in the warmth of love's majesty.
Like a flower reaching up toward Heaven's
Light, you'll grow strong despite this malady.
The fragments of your heart, too oft' broken,
Shall heal once more by the physic of time;
A spring will soften what is now frozen,
To seek anew that emotion sublime.
Though my well-meant words cannot ease thy pain,
Nor dispel the gloom found in the abyss
Of memory, know this darkness shall wane,
For melancholy can brighten to bliss.
   I pray divine power will grant thee rest,
   As peace floods the sacristy of thy breast.