Sunshine and Rain

By Bud Koenemund

You, Love, are sunshine.
I’m rain. But, I am content,
for flowers need both.

Just a Thought...

By Bud Koenemund

Here's a little lesson I taught at physical therapy yesterday. A few therapists and patients were discussing the woeful performance of the Pittsburgh Pirates. They lamented that the team never really gets better. Now, it's well known that the team owner doesn't spend a lot (in relative terms) of money on the team. So, I explained that if they really wanted the team to get better, they should stop watching them; stop buying their merchandise, and stop going to their games. The owner has shown that he will give you what you accept. If you accept a team that struggles -- year after year -- to remain in the middle of the standings, that's what the owner will give -- while still making money for himself.
I told them this also translates to shopping. Does it annoy you when you go to Walmart, and they only have one cashier on duty -- while having 10-20 "self-checkout" lanes open? You're in a hurry, so you ring up your items (sans any kind of employee discount for doing their job). All while being watched by one employee and multiple cameras to ensure you're not cheating them by not ringing up every item. Well, it's the same principle. If you show Walmart that you'll do their job for them, they'll give you what you'll accept. Why put more cashiers on duty if the people will do it themselves?
But, if -- and I know this would be an inconvenience for a day, or two -- if 27 shoppers lined up at the one manned cash register, and refused to use the self-checkout lane, it would force Walmart to open another lane. And, if it happened again the next day, Walmart might get the message.
Well, it's just a thought.

All Over Again

By Bud Koenemund

I think about you

every day. And, miss you

all over again.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

Mute

By Bud Koenemund

For Tahni

Thoughts of you persist;
Impure desires o’erwhelm,
yet I remain mute.

Busted

By Bud Koenemund

A 200 Word Story

  The two agents sat side by side in a pair of dark leather chairs. The Director of the Office of Professional Responsibility frowned as he stared at them from behind an impressive, hand-carved, mahogany desk. Half a dozen Bureau lawyers, and the agents’ union representatives, filled the rest of the room.
  “Normally, we don’t care if co-workers conduct a consensual relationship; as long as it doesn’t become a detriment to job performance,” the Director said. “Though, we do try to discourage partners from dating.”
  “Sir,” one of the union reps began. “We recognize this situation…”
  “But,” the Director continued, cutting off his response, “this will, in all probability, result in a lawsuit for cruel and unusual punishment.”
  The lawyers nodded in an almost comical unison.
  “While we do acknowledge… an unfortunate equipment mix up… due to the agents being called into service after their office received a tip in the middle of the night,” another union rep offered, waving his hand toward the two, “these agents did manage to apprehend one of our ’10 Most Wanted’ fugitives.”
  “And, they brought him in,” the Director exploded, “wearing fuzzy pink handcuffs!”
  Agents, union reps, and lawyers fought to muffle their laughter.

Love

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Exposition

  Love begins as the most perfect, pure thing in the whole world. Maybe in the entire universe. But, loving someone – even purely – is imperfect. Being loved by someone is imperfect. Doubt creeps in, weaving through every thought and action; playing tricks on the mind. Its shadow gathers – unnoticed, at first – ‘til trust and affection are obscured in darkness; strangled in a shroud of gloom.
  Once tarnished – its purity sullied – that perfection is lost forever. And, while love may be discovered again – may be tried and treasured – the heart knows its flaws. Still, despite contamination, our hearts long for love again.

Two Haiku

By Bud Koenemund

How Long?

How long does it take
to identify a face
you know like your own?


Forever

Someone tell my heart
Forever is a long time.
It won’t heed my brain.

Erased

By Bud Koenemund

Vows are only words;
powerless ‘gainst desire:
erased by passion.

Mutual Assured Destruction

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For B.

  They keep their distance. As if by some unspoken mutual agreement, maintaining a safe separation; knowing they are two chemicals that when combined would react violently; building heat until annihilation. They trade surreptitious glances; looking away, not to appear reluctant, but fearing others might recognize the burning desire in their gaze; leading to a worse – more public – destruction. They lust in painful silence – vainly struggling against the concupiscent gravity pulling them together; hungry to touch, to taste, to envelope each other fully; wanting only to surrender to their forbidden passion; even if the price of that fantasy would prove cataclysmic.

White Claw Lies (a song)

Lyrics by Bud Koenemund
Music (to be determined)

For Jenna

I can’t help but answer when she calls.
I know what she wants, but I can’t resist;
she begs, and pleads to come over,
and my ever hopeful heart will insist.
I’ll enjoy the trace of watermelon
still lingering on her soft lips,
and the intoxicating way that demon
drink makes her swing those hips.

[Chorus] Her coming here throws gas on embers that never burned out;
               But, I can’t blame her. We both know it’s my flaw;
               Re-igniting flames that’ll only warm one of us.
               No, it ain’t the whiskey I’m singing about;
               it’s not beer, gin, or even that damned tequila;
               it’s her White Claw lies that’ll leave me a mess.

I don’t know how many she’s had, but
she’ll be mine again, for a little while.
I oughta say no; be strong and save myself,
but my strength fades every time I see that smile.
There’s no doubt it’s a mistake to let her in.
But, her arms wrap around me as she floats through the door,
and, in an instant, I’m all hers again
before her pretty sundress even hits the floor.

[Chorus]

She’ll fulfill the promises she made on the street;
driving me wild, and messin’ up my sheets.
But, momentary happiness only leads to sorrow
when, it’s no surprise, she’s gone tomorrow.
She’ll slip away before the sun comes up;
leaving me all alone, and beggin’,
knowing I shouldn’t have believed her,
after those White Claw lies fooled me again.

[Chorus]

I can’t help but answer when she calls…

Torture

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For Lindsay

  He loved to torture her; making her cum in public. In dangerous places; where they might be caught. Here, on the dark balcony, with people inside, talking and laughing. Her ass rubbed against him as she squirmed. He had one strong hand between her legs; the other on her chest, holding her so she wouldn’t collapse.
  “Oh, God,” she rasped.
  Her right hand clapped over her mouth as if trying to capture the words that had just escaped.
  “Quiet,” he whispered, smiling. “Or, do you want them to come out and see what a desperate, wet, little slut you are?”

Love

By Bud Koenemund

I'm constantly torn

between revelation and

self-preservation.

Madness

By Bud Koenemund

Images tease me;

driving imagination

closer to madness.

Modern Muse

 By Bud Koenemund

Each time my phone “dings,”
my heart hopes that it is you.
My mind knows it’s not.

Sated

By Bud Koenemund

For Lindsay

Eyes locked; lips touching;

two bodies becoming one,

'til lust is sated.