Disguise

By Bud Koenemund

For T.

“Bud will do it so he won’t get in trouble.
No; Bud will do it so nobody else gets in trouble!”

It seems, somehow, you see the things in me
I’ve always attempted to keep hidden –
Disguised by sarcasm and apathy –
Wielding rapier wit as a defense
‘Gainst pains which too oft’ accompany care.
Fear of losing what I would protect cuts
Deeply – a hazard when confidence wears
Thin – and existence grows wearisome. But,
Viewing myself through your eyes inspires
My spirit; becoming the healing balm
To soothe those torments of a mind mired
In self-doubt: long denied solace and calm.
   I will never be one of God’s best men,
   Yet, you perceive virtues beyond my ken.

Voices

By Bud Koenemund

The voices are always louder at night;
When I’m alone; vulnerable to their
Influence; criticism which ignites
Self-doubt and –hatred; heightening despair.
Too oft’, these condemnations seem substance:
“You’re not worth affection.” “Who could love a beast?”
“She’s out of your league.” “You have no chance!”
“Why try?” “Just give up, and accept defeat.”
The enemies inside grow insistent –
A treason battering weak defenses –
Overwhelming what little resistance
I can offer to protect my senses.
   How does one combat a mind seditious;
   Obscuring reason with thoughts malicious?

In Darkness You Will Discover Stars

By Bud Koenemund

For C.

The night of death falls hard upon the heart;

A sackcloth veil shrouding everything held

Dear; breeding grief while spirit breaks apart,

And sadness engulfs those places love dwells.

Lady, I bear similar injuries:

Numbed by depression time may never heal;

Self-doubt that taints both joy and misery;

Abandoned to sorrow without appeal.

But, through pain, loss can empower your soul.

The maelstrom which brings about destruction –

Surging memories whirling uncontrolled –

Could ignite a fire of creation.

   Breathe deep, and do not fear to show your scars;

   For in darkness you will discover stars.

Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part IV: Language Lesson)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

‘Twas a muse who rendered my words useless;

Those I believed most sacred impotent

‘Fore her indifference, and each success

Tainted by reality: a heart rent;

Left without the one thing it desires;

Unable to woo, and incapable

Of forgetting; left burning in fires

Stoked by my own hand – inescapable

Torment. The pen, they say, wields more power

Than a sword, but passionate language pales

Compared to self-doubt, and fortune lours

O’er my naiveté as love lies veiled.

   The scars of this lesson may never heal;

   Wounds remaining forever uncongealed.

Love: 1998 - 2016 (Part II: She Was...)

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

The being who made me invincible,

Yet somehow retained power to destroy

My soul. A spirit irresistible

To mine, her indulgence became my joy.

A muse who inspired so many words;

With eyes that stole my breath, leaving silence.

Alpha and omega – creating worlds

In the mind, even while corrupting sense.

That living Venus; goddess who revealed

The heavens to which emotion can soar,

And self-doubt creating a battlefield

Within my heart – conflicting love and war.

   If it be obsession, I’ll not defend;

   She lives forever: beginning and end.