By Bud Koenemund
The Chimes at Midnight
Poetry, late night musings, and the children of an idle brain
10 April 2024
All Over Again
02 February 2024
Debt
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
He started, sensing
a presence behind him.
“There aren’t
many people who can sneak up on me,” he reflected.
“I didn’t,” the
form replied, quietly. “I’ve followed you for a long time; since your very beginning,
in fact. And, waited patiently.”
“I was a good
man… once,” he whispered, as realization dawned. “After I was broken, it just became
too painful to care.”
“Life is often
that way,” the figure offered. “But, I am not here to judge; only to collect
the debt each man must pay.”
Examining his own
body on the ground, he nodded; then turned to follow.
22 January 2024
The Inevitability of Things
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
Inspired by Christina Alvarado
He’s always
there. Always following. Steadily gaining ground. Inexorably closing in.
Too often, he’s
forgotten in the rush of life – until he visits someone close, and we’re
reminded of the inevitability of things.
He arrives
without joy or malice. He makes no bargains for more time. He expects
acceptance, though he is never surprised when people attempt escape.
I turn quickly, trying
to catch a glimpse. He is standing in the shadows. Not hiding – that’s not his
way. Moonlight glints off the blade of his scythe.
“Memento mori,”
he whispers.
I give a knowing
nod, and turn to walk on.
27 December 2023
The Devil and the Darkness
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
For M.
Michelle had a
boyfriend she loved. But – from time to time – she needed to see Brian. He
wasn’t a friend with benefits… not exactly. Brian was, she thought, the Devil. Somehow,
he knew her darkest desires. Often, she felt shame at the disgusting things he
made her do – acts she would never reveal to another living soul. Then, she’d
admit to herself that he never forced her to do anything, and that she enjoyed the
way he made her cum over and over. She’d feel the warm tingle between her legs
and pick up her phone to call him again.
25 December 2023
Heaven and Hell
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
For Lindsay.
“My boyfriend is
in the other room,” she rasped, as his right hand slipped under her skirt and
up between her legs.
“Do you want me
to stop?” he whispered.
The fingers of
his left hand entangled in her hair. He tugged, tilting her head back; exposing
her neck to his lips.
“Tell me to
stop,” he mumbled, his mouth barely leaving her flesh, “and I will.”
“You’re going to
send me to hell,” she objected; already fighting for breath.
In the darkness,
his lips curved into a wicked grin.
“Maybe,” he
allowed. “But, I’ll take you to heaven first.”
19 December 2023
Fuck Cancer!
Dear Santa;
I know it's a bit late in the game (it being less than a week before Christmas and all), but I'd like to change my wish list. I asked for a handful of things that are sort of silly. But, what I really want -- NEED -- is a cure for cancer.
Not for myself, of course. I don't have the medical need. And, I'd never be able to figure out all that medical/science-y stuff. (Damn it, Jim; I'm a sonneteer, not a doctor.)
But, if you could drop it off to someone at Sloan Kettering in New York City, I'd really appreciate it.
PS: This would square us for that whole never giving me a BB gun thing.
07 November 2023
26 October 2023
Retreat
By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
For "Her."
His eyes were
drawn to her instantly. Like a firefly in the dark, she was a brilliant flash
in the gloom. Catching sight of him, she waved. Memories flooded his
brain: how he'd craved her like a drug; the indescribable pain of her leaving;
how he'd desperately clung to shreds of sanity while hoping she'd come
back, and how she did – more times than he'd admit – only to abandon him once he'd
surrendered again. In that moment, his heart realized – finally, reluctantly, accepting – loving her would always end that way. He managed a weary smile, then turned to walk
away.
02 October 2023
'Twas the Night Before Shutdown
By Bud Koenemund
With apologies to
Clement Moore
‘Twas
the night before shutdown,
And
all through PIT land
Every
creature was stirring,
From
podium to TDC stand.
The
new hires were nestled close to their coaches
As
a winding queue full of passengers approached.
Laptops
were divested by DOs with care,
Along
with shoes, and CPAPs, and products for hair.
X-ray
ops still kept a keen eye;
Detecting
those objects prohibited to fly.
And,
bag checkers checked, as they are wont to do,
Ensuring
those gigantic masses are only food.
AIT
officers begged people to empty their pockets
Of
coins, candy, gum, papers, and lockets;
Then,
cleared inevitable groin alarms
Using
a firm hashtag pattern, but causing no harm.
The
Leads went mad, managing multiple lanes,
While
half their team members moaned and complained
About
getting their breaks and lunches too early or too late;
A
daily occurrence that’s beginning to grate.
Supes
ran forward and back, for numbers and IDs;
And,
watched the organized chaos of their busy bees
Striving
to keep the skies safe for democracy,
So
that people and commerce can flow carefree.
Then,
down in Washington, arose such a clatter –
A
sad, sobering reminder that politics matter –
Our
Representatives debated both to and fro
While
in the balance hung the TSA’s payroll.
And,
in the mind of each employee essential,
Crept
the lack of a budget, and the shutdown potential.
They
fretted ‘bout food, gas, and mortgages or rent;
Worrying
over every single dollar and cent.
Though,
as they work, they’ll find comfort in knowing
Congress
gets paid while their anxiety’s growing;
Concerned
about utilities and college tuition;
Left,
by politicians, in compromising positions.
They
are the red-headed step-children; considered exempt;
By
the General Schedule held below contempt.
But,
they show up and do their job day after day;
Even
sometimes… occasionally… far too oft’… without pay.
07 June 2023
I am the Very Model of a Modern Model Officer
I am the Very Model of a Modern Model Officer
(Sung to the tune
of Gilbert and Sullivan’s I am the Very
Model of a Modern Major-General.)
By Bud Koenemund
I am the very model of a modern Model Officer;
Each day I deal with passengers both fanciful and
comical;
I know the checkpoint positions, and work through them
rotational;
From the floor, up to baggage, out on Atlas; I can do
it all.
I know the SOP backwards and forwards unequivocal;
I quote the book so often some will surely call me
know-it-all;
I follow every rule, even ones seeming antithetical,
Obliged to satisfy all my leaders organizational.
I endeavor to keep my TIP score greatly astronomical,
While keeping watch for explosives both man-made and
organical;
I advise people to divest large objects electronical,
And, when their laptops are discovered they are held responsible.
At AIT, I operate the scanner most methodical,
To complete screening of folks who rarely step in a
shower stall;
My actions keep the country safe from forces diabolical,
As I pat down groins to find things not strictly
anatomical.
I deliberate on amounts of liquids, gels, and aerosols.
Without remorse, I dispose of bottles containing
alcohol;
I toss away peanut butter according to our protocol;
And, seize all weapons ranging from pocket knives up
to cannonballs.
I screen dogs, and cats, and fish, and every kind of
animal;
I stumble upon Coke, and Meth, and other drugs
botanical;
While avoiding Personal Pleasure Devices mechanical;
Striving to make our bag searches invasively minimal.
I beg for OLC time, and computers operational,
Completing, and repeating, courses which fade quickly
from recall;
And attend Training Department classes battling
caffeine withdrawal;
While learning ways to counter every threat
geographical.
I attempt to maintain sanity with comments
sarcastical;
Questioning passenger’s excuses and stories
fantastical;
Maneuvering precisely around people packed-in
wall-to-wall;
And, every day I ask myself why do I put up with it
all?
In truth, my time here has been nothing short of
tragi-comical;
I’ve witnessed displays of stupidity that are
phenomenal;
I’ll take my pay from TSA until I hit the Powerball;
I am the very model of a modern Model Officer.