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poetryaccident Mar 2018
There is appeal in release
responsibility put aside
as if the soul can’t accept
obligation to do things right
there is a method here at hand
madness grasped to ease the flock
surety from mouths of men
sad decrees that chain the mind.

With the work already done
bless dogma put down to the page
all that’s left is to adhere
to the edicts inscribed there
the monsters will the words
those best intentions of past age
focus on the parts they like
put aside contrary thoughts.

Into this hell the faithful walk
asking only what to do
no matter how the inner voice
screams shrill caution to be heard
still the warmth from the flames
consumes the souls as they bask
in the rightness they’ve been told
as greater truth is renounced.

There is a day when gaps are shown
in the armor made of faith
that larger realm of the world
outside control of masters’ chains
comfort lost is wisdom gained
revelation of the larger game
with no walls that block the view
what’s left is more than most can take.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180304.
I came across a Tumblr meme that exhorted the ******* / submission side of ****.  Spoken from a dominate aspect, the meme said something like “your body is my playground”.  This does NOT sit well with me.  It’s also not the whole story.  I’ll explain!  Even though there are aspects of **** that I would embrace, total submission, all the time, no holds barred, is not one of them.  Why?  I think it has to do with control.  I have as much dislike for religions that have an iron grip on there adherents.  Free thinking is impossible as all aspects of life are dictated.  How many people truly embrace this?  I suspect it is a tiny minority of all believers on that general path.  The good news is that **** is similar.  The healthy dominate / submissive relationship does not align with the meme at all times and in all situations.  The meme describes a scene of ****.  Does this mean that all controlling, I mean guiding, religion is also a scene?  Perhaps.
poetryaccident Mar 2018
Solidarity takes a turn
the out to in evoking care
now more import than the past
with my life shifting gears

care for others impacts self
reward for effort amplified
as foundations are stiffened
against the storms amplified

allyship turned inward
connections bridged fill my world
affirmations sent to others
account for love given self

affirming more than a group
creates a space that is bless
for the one that was outside
is now a member of the club.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180303.
The poem “Solidarity” was inspired by an unforgettable sequence in a dream.
poetryaccident Mar 2018
I'll invoke the rule of threes
first the beginning and then the end
connected by the spirit’s breath
speaking words birthed from truth

reflections found in fairy tales
once upon to journey’s course
shamrocks whisper what could be
in the fields now forgotten

these triangles spoke of power
too much fortune is a curse
certain lack begets great wealth
to be lost when once it’s found

by the fall the crone remembers
who they were before the mother
innocence in distant past
a maiden asks to live again

rebirth is found in ritual’s breadth
what was born must coexist
with the life that leads to death
spirit passing to dwell again

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180301.
A Tumblr blog asked readers to post lists of three.  This inspired me to write the poem “To Dwell Again”.
poetryaccident Feb 2018
I could describe the walls
condemning the one kept within
from these bars a world's revealed
both the beautiful and the ill
contrasting what could be done
edifice built by the years
as jail in which I rot
or tomb of the deceased

this barrier stops life's joy
happiness seen from afar
echoes of my past life
now the bane of misery
this happiness found outside me
example of normality
flickering on the stone wall
projection of what should be

the most cruel jest is this
a fallen state is lived by men
corruption of what God gave
is seen in all its shame
more abundant from my view
all the sinners come to play
exclaiming loudly as they go
with agendas spawned in Hell

against this backdrop stand my feats
cast to winds blowing hot
dust to dust is the end
promised by the Holy Book
the glory given is not heard
when the sight is obscured
by stack of bones of the past
giants gone and now condemned

escape is found in despair
for all the reasons I've stated here
each alone would be enough
now combined to ***** a life
there is one way to ease the pain
a rain of tears will soon follow
the wall then viewed as Satan's joy
a last reminder of illness cursed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180227.
The bane of depression is threefold.  It mutes life’s joys, accentuates the negative aspects of life, and belittles accomplishments.  “The Walls” is a poem about this phenomenon.
poetryaccident Feb 2018
I wonder if the dream contains
both beginning and an end
the sad dawn to final act
or slow torture before my death
I’ve lost the start in the fog
and the future is beyond my sight
into this void I find myself
occupant of numbing fear

the future holds no glad lure
when only days I can endure
what lays beyond is full of dread
I'd avoid if I were dead
this is the cure that I'll embrace
a last resort that's all to real
in the mind that that only see
grinding stress I can't release

in small doses I'll discharge
the poison that fills my life
it's not enough to cure the soul
instead the patient must endure
looking back to the dream
cosmic joke by beggar king
if only laughs would fade
drop the curtain, end my days.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180226.
“Drop the Curtain” is about the drudgery of depression.
poetryaccident Feb 2018
I am the same as you
seeking my integrity
where I draw my lines
in the sand of humanity
mirrors echo the shapes
defining reality
core of who we are
center of what we want

identity is a right
who I am deep within
regardless of masks outside
drawn by society
the spectrum is my guide
a pool to dive within
skipping private rocks
across the placid face

desires are manifest
arising from within
natural on the face
of the field of dreams
too numerous to count
infinite when we admit
that pleasure is in pain
humility found when lost

attractions are the tool
preface to closed doors
where I remove the guards
allow myself to be seen
I’ll seek those I love
based on who I’ll trust
appeal with lead them here
behind the veil of life

the mirror is not broken
these reflections are still true
even if the version of me
is not the same version of you
diversity becomes the norm
normative put aside
when I am same as you
drawing lines for myself.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180225.
“Drawing Lines” is about humanity's core concerns. The poem address identity, desires, and attractions. There is the inclination to label the unfamiliar as deviant or wrong. The truth of the matter is that the starting places are the same even though many destinations are reached. Accepting this is a stepping stone to accepting that the normative is a fluid proposition.
poetryaccident Feb 2018
I didn’t expect the first kiss
ambush set full on the lips
with a tongue that filled the void
the sum result was heaven above

fireworks flash high in the sky
only seen by those involved
pyrotechnics invite much more
opening volley in lust’s salvo

a simple touch was enough
caress of flesh so very soft
brush of lips has provoked
the unexpected now welcome

this modest act rocked my world
shifted ground once set firm
tremors felt deep in my soul
this convulsion before the storm.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180224.
A dream about an expected kiss inspired me to write the poem “Before the Storm”.   I can count on one hand how many kisses I’ve had like this.  Their power cannot be underestimated.
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