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Born into a weird dark place
Not living in one
Not living in anything

Abigail Sedgwick Sep 2016

if the words on your screen
are the blackness of night
let me hold and surround you
in brightness and light

Inside the many shells we peel
there’s a layer underneath
laid down by life to mark the time
protection for what’s outside
paint with layers a mile thick
or the onion with no center
both are hints what may come
when the bottoms are then plumbed.

The box lids lift to disclose
another square with a top
perhaps round, it matters not
compartments mask more from sight
when there’s another tucked inside
what’s obscured is still veiled
receptacles hide what’s not found
except within the mind’s realm.

The spirals found are infinite
a puzzle snared in veil’s riddle
if deity could show the way
the smoke from fires would blind the day
perhaps the caskets will reveal
or the urns that hold the ash
when the shells are reduced
to nothing more than memories.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170905.

“More Than Memories” started out as a poem about discovering the layers of a person.  It turned into a metaphysical examination of stripping away the dross of life, only to find there is very little other than the end of existence.
K G Dec 2016

These heels, varnish
From solid ground
Upon the rain clouds


leapfrog, crawlfrog
sitting frogs,  snogging frogs
frogs, frogs, frogs
making pollywogs

sudden downpour
rainfall and now we have been
stopped by froggy urban sprawl

all over the road, expanding
the tadpole nation
every frog hop jumping
to their station.

uncle toad needs you

all the little froglets
stand up and take your
place in the human
we are small, we are cute
and soon we will be many
and our conflagration will bear fruit
the ribbet will roar
the pobblebonk will rise
watch out humans, watch out flies
time you realise...the frogs are coming
looking out for more...it is written
in our sacred lore...we are the future

some silliness for the young un... but we did have to stop on the way home cause the frogs were doing their thang on the road...hundreds of them, like a frog mosh pit come woodstock frenzy
fasi Feb 2015

As dawn broke,
came a dragonfly
to sit on my window sill
Change is come,
or more rain to fall, still?

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