30 April 2017

A Love Letter in Haiku Form - For National Poetry Writing Month 2017

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Oh, sweet green-eyed muse;
thy emerald beauty has
beguiled my pen.

What words could I use
to tempt your heart as you have
enchanted my own?

Would my feeble pleas
serve to entice elegance,
or prove me a fool?

Desire cannot
be expressed in verse alone.
Still, the soul must speak.

While I lack talent
with speech, these tributes to thee
spring forth unimpaired.

Though I fear the flames
lust has kindled will consume
me, passion rises.

I long to enjoy
the touch of your lips ‘gainst mine –
a divine union.

I beg caresses;
to feel the warmth of your skin
under my fingers.

I yearn to lay close,
our limbs entangled, as we
whisper endearments.

The sanctuary
I seek rests in your bosom;
exquisite solace.

Lady, I live in
faint hope of someday holding
your soft hand in mine.

These creations live
by thy inspiration, and
wither in neglect.

Though weak lines cannot
match your radiance, I pray
they will woo thy heart.

15 April 2017


By Bud Koenemund

A 100 word story

For Lindsay

  I want to push you against the wall, and mash my mouth against yours; kissing you until we’re both gasping for breath. I want to pull your hair, leaning your head back, exposing your delicate neck to my lips. I want your legs wrapped around me as I carry you to bed. I want to tear the clothes from your body as we fumble toward ecstasy. I want to stare into your eyes, and clutch your throat, as we fuck – not making love – each other into delirium until we collapse; sweaty and exhausted; our limbs entangled, as we whisper endearments.

14 April 2017

A Fire Once Incandescent

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 word story

For Lindsay

  Rain pelted the umbrella spread above them. The droplets – furious and unrelenting – splattered against the black nylon, then joined in silver rivulets that ran over the edge to seek the ground. The couple, soaked from the knees down, huddled close as gusts of wind whipped along the gray concrete canyon, threatening their fragile shelter.
  Reaching the entrance of her building, they hesitated for a few moments, neither wanting to let go; each lamenting the drowning of a fire once incandescent. Recognizing her, the doorman fumbled his way into the maelstrom, extending his own umbrella, too late, as she ran past.