Times change and I miss your face
now fixed in my memory
a dream conspiring with the wheel
to turn around and taunt again

events conspire to separate
one from another without reprieve
with no rhyme on who should leave
or stay behind to mark the days

all may grieve in their way
even as necessity
demands this price for some to grow
in distant lands beyond the fold

no evil entity is to blame
instead the cause is so mundane
the ebb and flow of lives
just enough to get by

shifting winds blow the leaves
to the west and to the east
times change and still I miss
your face lodged in memory.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190123.

The sufferer must have their match
the one to complete the dream
of feeling more than life can share
in the space of fevered dreams
while the lash may find its mark
accompanied by the scourge

there is a person who facilitates
the press of leather to the flesh
they feel no discomfort in the act
except to tire from the toil
the thrill must be somewhere else
this may be feared if not pure

beware the one who holds the leash
or snaps the crop to bring the pain
they may indulge in bad faith
even as they serve a need
beyond the veil of scenes played out
where does the urge to hurt extend?

what curtails the sadist's need
to bring distress to all things?
these are the questions of concern
that play across my yearning mind
a ******* during play
I’m wary of the opposite.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190122.

The sacrifice must be made
the blood spilled to mark the day
lest the gods both good and bad
feel unwanted by mere man

deities remain steadfast
when attention turns to them
by the edge of cutting knife
or the coin from the purse

a gentle shower is not enough
be it crimson or made of gold
when attentions must surely flow
stating purpose from the soul

lives laid down in consequence
by believers or the lost
the latter being enemies
now made worthy in their ends

all this done in name of greed
for squalid treasures near at hand
enough to fill a million chests
these are the boon of all transgress

so ask for blessings both low and high
knowing gods have their price
the sacrifice made today
will coat the hands of deity.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190121.

In between the happiness
I die a little to exist
trading futures for the time
in those moments I truly smile
pushing past to grab the ring
the brass circlet asks no less
a sacrifice to feed the need
beyond the hells of common day

the minor heavens open up
with respite at last grasped
asking only that the breadth
is harvested to feed the whim
many ask why this should be
against the fog of memory
forgetting how they succumbed
to the worm seeking more

it responds with a shrug
asking penance afterward
a small price in the end
even as the light is dimmed
the edges fray to be undone
while the focus is on the fun
****** in the end to release
happiness that cannot last.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190120.

When the hate becomes a box
electrified by past comments
there's no escape for the one
now enclosed by lack of love

the feast was fed for a time
riches poured from above
as the base demanded blood
to sate the priest’s unholy lusts

now that trenches have been dug
with the bottoms beyond sight
keeping safe the twisted words
entrenched in need to be right

truth unmade by the mold
of small hatreds spun to large
asking all the vapid fears
to infect beyond their realm

no compromise is possible
once the line has been crossed
even if the soul may ask
for reprieve beyond discord.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190119.

Show the flesh with a care
lest the action provoke flares
from the gender without control
when the skin is on display
ration out the eye treats
too much is bad for the health
as the hands seek their prize
solely based on prideful lust

there are options across the board
back or front may be exposed
consider legs as separate
just enough goes a long way
almost all should be a right
caution calls for much less
it's not the fault of those
who wear garments for themselves

the masculine may have their charms
wise restraint not one of those
when the female makes a choice
to show their gifts to the world
perhaps libido is the term
it's more likely that privilege
rears it's head at the chance
to press forward at sight of skin

an invitation is then assumed
while not given before the hands
take unkind liberties nonetheless
exploring realms without permit
the only recourse left to take
is unfair to those who shine
hiding beauty because of oafs
are triggered by the sight of skin.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190118.

There is a land I'd like to walk
one where I'd feel at home
like son returned at last
in a form not recognized

the path prescribed is passion’s game
first a date with romance
complete with flirting all in fun
then seduction to round it out

knowing something lays beyond
a trip to realms close to my heart
perhaps one day I'll walk those paths
lay down the need to be a man

assumptions made at a glance
with fair passing as a phase
what's at hand is the real thing
as the heart desires a fling

until that day I'll walk the edge
look at fields of beyond the wall
reaching down to touch the blooms
with the mask that does not fit.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190117.