Half

By Bud Koenemund

Half of my heart is still in love with you;
A notion foolish as it is sincere,
When that affection’s forever imbued
By sadness: growing more and more austere.
Half of my mind is still in love with you;
Yet condemned to recall happier days,
‘Fore passion incandescent went askew;
Leaving intellect and sanity razed.
Half of my soul still belongs to you;
Though ‘tis now mortal – crushed beyond the repair
Time can grant; a solace long overdue –
As I stumble about in my despair.
   I seek a peace I fear I’ll never find,
   While memory and shadow intertwine.

We Said Our Goodbyes

By Bud Koenemund

Of course, I had to see you walk away –
My eye drawn to you like a firefly’s
Light in darkness – while memory replayed
The moment when passion withered and died.
Of course, I had to see you walk away;
Enduring one more stab in the heart.
Unable to simply go about my day:
You’d just be gone; leaving me torn apart.
Of course, I had to see you walk away.
We’d said our goodbyes already. But fate
Wouldn’t allow peace, and time won’t belay
Pain. Still, I’ll not let my love become hate.
   Each day, I seek to put sadness behind;
   E’en as your absence constantly reminds.

Blue Eyes Blue

By Bud Koenemund

For K.

I see the sadness hidden in your eyes;

A pain you try to bury, which lurks still;

Nearer the surface than you know; disguised,

Yet visible; lingering ‘gainst thy will.

Heartbreak and loneliness are compounding

Sorrows; breeding doubt; confusing every

Setback with tragedy; poisoning

The soul. But, trust time will dull memory,

Allowing you to heal. Made whole once more;

Emerging stronger; by love enfolded;

The gleam renewed in those sapphire orbs –

Shining like sunlight thawing Winter’s cold.

   My intent is these verses bring delight;

   A smile, if brief, to draw day from night.

Emerald Eyes

By Bud Koenemund

For C.

I write without hope of gaining favor,

As age precludes the assumption of grace.

Nonetheless, my pen must strive to honor

Beauty; praising the features of thy face

With homage forged in ink, not carv’d stone;

For what alabaster could not help turn

Obsidian when it your fairness shown?

Why even the silent fires that burn

Amidst the heavens daily shroud their flames

Once thy jeweled orbs ope to gaze upon

The world, for they outshine emeralds, and shame

Creatures made dreary by comparison.

   Though my art is oft’ begot in madness,

   I pray these words will prove balm to sadness.

At First Sight

By Bud Koenemund

For Julianne.

I am a “love at first sight” kind of guy;
Always have been, despite a desire
To protect my heart – defying my eyes –
And, thus proof the soul ‘gainst passion’s fire.
Courting ruin, I relish “the flutter;”
That mix of madness, infatuation,
And weakness; lust rendering thoughts a blur
Of hopes and dreams burning bright as the sun.
But, this emotion is tinged with sadness;
A wish that I were a better poet,
And possessed the words needed to express
How I long for space within thy orbit.
   ‘Tis foolish to live a Romantic when
   The magic of love lies beyond my ken.

In Truth, How Worthless Have My Words Become

For "Her."

In truth, how worthless have my words become,
When I have so long pledged myself to thee?
Is’t possible to dip a pen struck dumb
By the absence of such a Muse as thee?
What shall I write when my prose is cheapened,
With patronizing rhymes dripping in ink,
When with denial my sadness has deepened,
And pain I endure when of you I think?
I must now doubt my course when next I find
A companion heart to beat next to mine;
The perfect match of body and of mind,
A soul content to paint outside the lines.
How may I again profess love as sweet,
When I have writ such ardent words for thee?