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 Jan 2020
poetryaccident
Nobody’s a forest even if they try
to envision a green sea in their mind
unbroken in vast tranquility
the uniform considered as purity

standing as one against the sky
this is imagined to comply
with the wishes of distant gods
who see the whole as their flock

these fevered dreams deny the truth
this sea is made of single trees
verdant drops in an ocean’s depths
each with a life to reconcile

dividing self from the whole
allows the soul to truly roam
away from chains of the copse
the tree is left to stand alone.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200113.
The poem “Chains of the Copse” was inspired by the lyrical line “No man’s a forest even if he tries to be one” in the song “You” by Kyson.
 Apr 2019
Seán Mac Falls
.
The moon undresses you, little bird,
Your eyes are indigo skies without stars,
Your breath is summer grass after shower.
How you hold your arms before the night,
A lance of milky sheen and flailing bliss,
Your arms arrest as they softly surrender
And your ******* overflow in moist shores
Of white sand and shells, little ears to kiss,
I am drowning in your curves on the waves
From the sea, delirious with eye of moon,
Drunk with wild ocean as it consumes me,
Your hair is new grassland to run through,
Windy as a child breaking for the beach,
I latch my fingers to yours like driftwood
Tangled in kelp, the salt we share, steeps,
Is **** and deep and our lips are shucked
Oysters, blind, iridescent, sliding with eyes
Into the famished throat of ***** heavens.
.
 Jan 2019
Barbara R Maxwell
Deep in the woods

There is forest and quiet
The trees reach to the sky
Darkness abounds
The air is cool and clear

Deep in the woods

A cabin sits
Surrounded by snow and trees
Mountains are in the background

Deep in the woods

A light is burning in the cabin
Smoke coming from the chimney
Scents of pine trees in the air

Deep in the woods

A dog sits on the steps
He’s a husky
Beautiful white and black
Waiting for it’s owner

Deep in the woods

A pie is baking in the oven
Coffee is on the stove
A fire burns in the fireplace

Deep in the woods

There is sublime quiet
There is a sense of calm and peace
It is intoxicating

Deep in the woods

Is a sanctuary of sorts
 Jan 2019
Intrusiveth0ughts
Motherly earth you are beautiful.
With your green pastures.
And your crystal blue waters.
For the living creatures, you provide sanctuary.
A place to call home.
  From the dangers of the world, you provide a sheath of protection.
With your winds acting as a weapon.
You are beautiful.
With your divine skies, It creates bliss.
A feeling of gratitude.
For you give us everything.
We owe you nothing but our thanks.
For we will continue to care for you.
Even though it may not seem as so.
We owe.
For without you there would be no home.
No living creatures, that you behold.
No precious flowers.
Or the fresh air, that comes from your trees.
There would be nothing without your beautiful existence.
Thank you, mother earth.
 Jan 2019
pistachio
By the river bank, the daffodil sways
With the soft brush of astray wind travelling
But not a petal of her defrays
She remained charming and ever alluring
Then I saw you wanted the flower there lies
But I’m a stem, a nil to those eyes

At night, you glance at the sombre canopy
Your eyes wander hopefully and eagerly
Then I saw a glimmer and blithe on your face
When you found the star- the only one you chase
So, you combed the crowd of gas and dust
Yet you couldn’t see the moon to you that always watch.
What can I do? I am no match to a flower and star?
 Jan 2019
SøułSurvivør
palindrome

shivering stars with horn
moon trumpeting like
mystic swan sailing
the scintillating
galaxies
scintillating the
sailing swan mystic
like trumpeting moon
horn with stars shivering



SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/11/2015
Dedicated to Jeffard Stier... I so much appreciate your support of my poetry! Happy Thanksgiving!
 Jan 2019
farthest star
Tears of the Sun shrouded by clouds
make their way to Earth
for she can feel her sorrow
better than anyone else

darling Earth prepares the green
so when the Sun is ready to be seen,
the earth blooms from her rays of light
and is reminded that she is
just as important as everything else in this universe.
 Dec 2018
Carina
Standing on a secluded cliff,
Turning my eyes to the sea.
I try to net with the smallest sniff
What freedom and oblivion may be.

The waves crashing onto the rocky shore,
Each one inevitably fading away;
no longer being part of the bore,
but instead washing over the bay.

I wonder how it feels giving up to the stream;
My lungs filled with endless devotion.
For I realize the waves crashing to be redeemed
Don´t matter as long as they're part of the ocean.
Cool and crisp is the air to breathe.
Frail and colorful discarded leaves.
Autumn is quiet as November falls.
I hear this whisper as it calls.

I whisper back like a hidden friend behind a wall.
The wind picks up hushing my words.
It strolls away from our conversation and settles up above the palms.
I feel no need to feel the breeze, it's usually too intense.
Placing its disarrayed claws on others possessions and. Tossing them into the air. Like it has no regard for anyone. It doesn't care.
If this non visually materialized life form has no warmth or delightful scent of fresh lost yet familiar vision to bestow, then I just as well have no great bond to it and will go.
I feel alive and vibrant as the sun.
I am loved. I walk in the eclectic self knowledge of My Father and His Son.
I am the only soul I see. I am the only one.
November has fallen by the roadside but couldn't take my soul.
December prepares me. December is divine. December is Mine.
 Jul 2018
Bright Violet
I love the winter.
If I were to miss anything from this Earth
it would be the winter.
I can hear my boots on a stone cold floor
My breath comes out frozen
in a house long abandoned.
My childhood memories
overwhelm me.
I've spent years of my life there
Now all of them
have become a stalactite of ice
Slowly melting
as the years go by.
I rub my hands together
to warm up.
Now I don't know which one is really frozen
My body or my heart?
Once I had bliss
moments I could feel safe.
Now I know better
I'm afraid I might ruin
my past blissful memories
by creating new ones.
They're not the same
At least for now.
Maybe years from now
they'll become the same
But the winter comes and goes
regardless.
Like all seasons,
I allow my heart to warm up
from time to time.
But when it's winter,
the walls of ice are impenetrable
It's safe inside
but sometimes quite lonely.
There come times when
I prefer that
Sadly these are getting more by the year
Who knows?
Life will make its circle
Winter, spring, summer, autumn
will come again.
Even when I'm gone from this world
Maybe in them one can find
a peculiar sense of justice.
Is there really?
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