Don’t ask me to start idle chatter
what I’ve discovered in my walk
when I met the Man in Black
straight man to the Lord on High

The Devil whispered God’s little secret
asking me to hold my tongue
for if the world knew the mystery
they’d grin in unison to his joke

I could hint what’s been uttered
gossip from the Lord of Imps
stating how I’m meant to live
against the veil of darkest light

torture as a right of passage
endings coming all too soon
waking coffins giving shelter
one from another in their despair

silence will be my only option
no outside voice brought to bear
because the start would have no ending
murmur stretching to only screams

when I pass I’ll break my quiet
stand with the Highest in his glee
witness humor behind the horror
share the laughter at Heaven’s Gates.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170605.

Moving pics on amber walls
projected others against my life
seeing new upon the old
wondering how the two enfold

resin has the past enclosed
shelves with items, closets stuffed
trinkets yellowed in gold
always there, yet separate

present asked to share its space
with the ghosts always there
there stand the silhouettes of loved ones
stamped in hazel’s surrounding grasp

history’s stamp is still there
a tranquil prison out of touch
this is said as a prayer
I’m still here in its wake

masking cause, blurring lore
reactions made are not my own
against the amber I exist
extension of what came before.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170604.

Pardon me if I use a sign
meant to find all my peeps
the ones aligned to my life
by the words I’ll confess
marked by phrases out of place
so it seems when compared
to the chatter most parley
one to another, babble’s frame.

Some will question what I mean
confusion reigning when they read
the meaning lost to their ears
the turn of phrases too foreign
because their lives are lived elsewhere
no harm is meant, this is their fate
while I exist, exemption’s child
looking for other ones.

Others have little care
for this one struggling forth
whatever said matters not
I’m too alien for that lot
they may know what I mean
yet I’m put out of their minds
not wanting to know anymore
mutterings lost in the storm.

Instead I speak to my kind
to let them know they’re not alone
providing signs they’ll discern
invitation to comfort’s arms
though the world may complain
I’ll hold them close as a friend
signs submitted to the world
finding those who need them most.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170603.

There is a secret this life conceals
behind the rush of harsh travails
with the decisions made in haste
best laid plans sure to fail
change is all we have to grasp
when the day moves to night
rest may come to some men
before the cycle begins again.

Serenity is the precious gift
received by self when life submits
to those things that will not shift
even when effort is manifest
it’s not that will is too weak
or that justice is ignored
instead consider the universe
has other plans to be fulfilled.

Courage on the other hand
musters forth when needed most
remedy for ills of man
savior to the trampled ones
though the effort may be hard
easy is the Devil's child
when the saints ask for more
as the shifts demand effort.

Here is the puzzle I mentioned
the secret sauce to next action
knowing when to stand aside
or when to jump to shift the world
wisdom is that question mark
or better yet, the answer said
to know the difference between the two
this is God's gift to those who hear.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170602.

I found Cupid by the road
prisoner in the stock's firm clamps
in the face of public scorn
this imp of love confined by man
his wings no longer grasped the air
rainbow hues were dimmed by dust
what could have brought him so down low
caged for sins that humans judge.

A messenger is all he was
the agent sent to move two hearts
when the wheels had clicked in place
launch his arrow and make it so
god of love is high praise
though the low is his goal
desire to turn the questing eye
delivered on his missile's tip.

These restraints held him there
until the judge could take the case
some future date the crowd would come
now he and I stood alone
he admitted to no crime
attraction will cross the lines
set by society as a whole
blind only to what it knows.

This envoy known as Eros
is charged with obscenity
when that provoked is all the same
as the norms found in his aim
the hearts still link when he's caged
wounding selves in by love's embrace
though man's officials would argue
fantasies against romance's ways.

Fear not my friends of queer desire
Mars and Venus will have their way
their offspring will throw off his chains
the fire of passion will find its mark
no human banister can decide
pass a judgment that would abide
preventing Cupid from his job.

If I close the doors during the storm
shutter the windows against the pour
provide no entrance save to myself
the sea would be to blame

two fathoms from taint of birth
chemistry wired in the wrong
from the elder falls the fruit
now waiting for the cancer

the basement will surely flood
the roof above will soon leak
is it no wonder why I exclude
visitors from the scene of the crime?

Four fathoms from the childhood
outsider voted the class clown
comments heard behind my back
so many whispers with no praise

don’t allow the blue to mislead your mind
the lack of clouds to say it’s alright
in my realm the hurricanes
blow day and night with no refrain

the last fathoms finally reached
neurotic says the diagnosis
no escape for you my son
this is forever until the end

I’ve heard the rest before you speak
umbrellas work for other men
they’re no help when my world
is six fathoms below the sea.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 2017031.

Why do I write?
it's better asked
why do I breathe?
when I could submit
to life's travails
the thousand slights

doubting words
inside my head
while the reprieves
are too brief
spanning gaps
between the pain
or should say
existing's game
I'm asked to play
pass the time
moving the pieces
across the board

a daily pursuit
paused to consider
thoughts put to page
hoping they are seen
by the travelers
of like design
also scribbling
in their own blood.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 2017030.