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.

Guilty in Silence

By Bud Koenemund

For Arthur H. Monigold

He told me not to tell, and I didn’t.

His own grandson – once untainted; trusting –

Protecting a monster whose sin imprints

The soul, poisoning innocence with lust;

Breeding this maelstrom raging through my brain:

Lightning strikes of emotion – wrath and shame;

Hate and self-doubt – a tempest unconstrained.

Yet, misery lurks darkest in that blame

I carry for silence. An accomplice

To evil; remaining mute as he forced

This curse upon others; rending solace

From family: a guilt beyond recourse.

   Though my flesh bears no scar, memory steals

   Peace with injuries time will never heal.

By Your Inspiration

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

I am, too often, deficient in speech;

Struck silent by the war ‘twixt intellect

And passion; seeking language that would reach

Your heart; confessions I pray might connect

Our souls; striving to express desire,

While pledging the respect of innocence.

Though my rhymes are feeble, I must admire

Thy beauty, and compliment elegance.

Muse, thou art more deserving of esteem

Than any who treads upon the base Earth

We inhabit. From that grace, like sunbeams,

Words radiate to celebrate love’s worth.

   Be sure such light enkindles creation,

   For this took life by your inspiration.

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.

Deadly Sin

Am I not a mortal, born into sin;
An imperfect man, destined to transgress?
Shall I stand condemned for the beast within;
Tendering prayers entreating forgiveness?
No! I'll abandon virtue for thy kiss,
The warmth of your skin on my fingertips,
And whispers shrouded in the Dragon's mist –
Where carnal urges rise and reason slips.
Each time I see you, I long to confess
This fault; to admit the concupiscence
Burning through my body. Though, what blessing
Would that bring, when lust o'erwhelms innocence?
   Your touch alone can sate this desire,
   And damn my soul to the eternal fire.

What Shall I Write of My Desire for Thee

For Amy Lynn Watkins

What shall I write of my desire for thee,
So that I would not cause offense to thy
State, virtuous as I hold it to be,
Nor mar my reputation in your eyes?
How might I explain, without terms vulgar,
The fire burning in my body and mind
Amid dreams – both waking and in slumber –
That keep you in this damn’d lust enshrined?
Though my soul will stand condemn'd for sin,
And I will spend eternity disgraced,
I beg thee, Muse, give me the words to win
Thy hand, and so grant me a mortal grace.
I make no secret of concupiscence,
But seek your love to reclaim innocence.

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.