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.

What Sweeter Song

By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

How oft’ have I sworn my heart free of thy

Sway, only to dedicate another

Lyric in praise of hair, skin, nose, or eyes?

Indeed, such passion is hard to smother

When the midnight voice whisp’ring in my ear

Is always yours – a muse won’t be ignored.

Although I have lacked thy presence for years,

Mem’ry sustains the tempest in my core.

Lady, you have birthed ten thousand verses;

Every word a razor’s blade that cuts

While I fight ‘gainst myself – this art versus

Sanity. Obsessed? Admittedly. But,

   What sweeter song could I write than to pen

   Thy name forever, over and again?