A Better Sonnet for Christina Alvarado

By Bud Koenemund

There are dangers every poet knows:

The Lake of Goo, and mindfields filled with words

Defective; emotion twisting their prose,

Or adherence to a form which can blur

Function – risking misinterpretation.

Still they muddle, matching rhythm and rhyme

In little songs to show admiration;

Praise courting immortality while time

Demands submission. Although memory

Will fade away, these verses shall endure

Forever – love sans ambiguity;

Bestowed with reverence and intent pure.

   Absent voice, I pen my exaltation:

   To Venus, and Muse, in celebration.

Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part V: Repentance)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

Oh, Lady; I believed, and so oft’ swore

My passion, like the stars, would never cool –

Thy heart held in mine, forever adored.

Alas, love, once more, has proved me a fool.

These words have grown repetitive; complaints

Monotonous – despite intention pure –

And fervor neglected has finally waned,

For you could not be mine as I was yours.

The offense lies tattooed upon my soul –

Indelible, and irredeemable –

As life, it seems, demands a monstrous toll;

Leaving voice censured, and mind unstable.

   I do at last repent that affection;

   Praying some power will grant redemption.

Victim or Hypocrite

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

The ardor of my affection was pure
And true, but died slowly; pining away
In vain; enraptured by one insecure.
Now, time has granted freedom from thy sway;
Oaths once clad in shining armor rusted
Unseen, weakened by the rain of deceit
Drizzling off a tongue this fool trusted –
Cursing my heart to live on incomplete.
In faith, I know not if I stand victim
Or hypocrite – though I admit unwise –
For through the years I swore a love undimmed,
While neglect changed my promises to lies.
   Piety I thought immortal is dead,
   Leaving mind and sense tragically unwed.