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If the future was more kind
without misfortune few deny
perhaps the fear would be removed
from procreation of blessed broods

the call to family some resist
is the outcome of that persists
when grandparents have condemned
the world resulting from their sins

inheritance should be boon
instead the cliff clearly looms
the edge within sight of all
only dooms the tender ones

the elders who will fall away
are the ones that had betrayed
now future parents hesitate
to set a sentence of doomed fate.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200226.
The poem “Set a Sentence” was inspired by a Facebook posting that stated, “when people my age are all afraid of the world that their kids are inheriting because of their irresponsible grandparents, it makes you take pause .”
Seek a life beyond the dance
that span of staid circumstance
those tunes clinging to the past
embracing moves now long lapsed

classics are spun once again
look beyond that tired domain
cantos to tradition’s rut
now a dirge too many trust

ten thousand steps in unison
once thought to be jubilant
now a procession without end
for the march of the condemned

the dance may still exist
harmony instead of the old dread
if vitality seeks its own song
before the sounding of life's gong.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200225.
The poem “Beyond the Dance” is about striving to live beyond the normative.
Where chains of rules are applied
to the limbs of the enslaved
suffering becomes a normative
thought to be superlative

desired above all other joys
the best is based on woe
darkness affirmed as light
the gloom becomes delight

this illusion cast by saints
look to the imps that relate
their glee is proof enough
that few dare call the bluff

rattle the manacles to proclaim
none should live as a slave
bound to rules not their own
tradition tossed of as a yoke.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200224.
The poem “Tradition Tossed” is about the suffocation of traditions.
The dreams allow for a dance
while in waking life here is no chance
desire asks for this exchange
when connection is estranged

arm in arm in fantasy
paling against reality
this is the best that life permits
when distance is normality

the desire to at last connect
bleeding over to vision’s quest
behind closed lids the dance goes on
absent venues of self’s choice

those relations pursued first hand
have been replaced by revenants
sad whispers of what should be
six feet asking for dreamt proxies.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200404.
The poem “Dreamt Proxies” is about the increasing number of dance related dreams I’m experiencing during the coronavirus shutdown of social dance events.
The price that’s paid has a due
survival is the golden rule
persisting here another day
the end of times then delayed

this seems simplistic at first glance
until the rules deny the chance
to determine the here and there
that society deems to declare

attractiveness damns everyone
but there are those that lies enclose
stating how they’re meant to live
by virtue of what they give

pretty is spun to be a rent
with existence as consequence
deny this price if the bill
is presented against your will.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200402.
The poem “The Rent You Pay” was inspired by a social media friend who succinctly stated, ‘“Pretty” is not the rent you pay to exist in this world.’
I kissed a girl who was like me
affirmed by two identities
each knowing their inner truth
reveling in the shared salute

each a deviation from the norm
by percentages expressed in math
this doesn’t matter when the fates
have brought together much the same

the quick embrace of impassioned lips
asks if more should persist
a smooch to bless connections found
confirming fondness linked to love

only time may yet convey
where the kiss may finally lead
with this girl I’d do much more
top to bottom to explore.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200213.
The poem “Kissed a Girl” is a consideration of shared affection.
Distance matters so much less
when the heart is truly blessed
with dear friends that rise above
the detritus of life's flood

waters flowing from here to there
rewarding those who choose to dare
to feel something more than dread
wanting joy to fully spread

those of like mind that insist
that life asks more than to exist
beyond a day that labored work
with a wage that circles back

something more than this treadmill
is the gift that dear friends bring
breaking chains and floating hearts
before the cycles ask all to depart.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200212.
The poem “Dear Friends” is a consideration of where friends fit into the treadmill of life.
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