The time without the loved one
once they’re buried in the ground
demands a toil from the soul
when the self has been interned

put six feet down lest the world
do the same without reserve
with permanence born of fear
by dogma too long revered

these sentiments that massacre
deviants from the conservative
asked only to step aside
from living large against the lie

the walking dead seem to survive
in aftermath of suicide
now the days are self-deplored
compelled normality forevermore.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191218.

Survival asks for a retreat
finding shelter lest a defeat
destroy more than what’s due
when hatred is the attitude

that consensus of the crowd
now embolden to speak out loud
by the virtue of leader’s sway
breadth of humanity is betrayed

to be different is now enough
damnation granted on a whim
the result when fear compounds
confirmed wishes of the crowd

this withdrawal to survive
brings a tear to my eye
the omens state all should beware
while monsters wear human form.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191217.

To be the angel for a day
fly with the aid of wings
would demand a sacrifice
to put aside the spice of life

in the heights the loss is slight
hidden among the blurred landscape
this prison that one may escape
by virtue of the altitude

if only for the span were perpetude
forever ignoring why most strive
on wings made for evasive flight
turning away from earth’s delights

to be seraph for a time
blinded to angst of men
would be sublime for a day
and then I’d return to play.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191216.

Ask the memories why they stay
especially in the realm of dreams
reminders of long lost times
forever gone come to the mind

those revenants from the graves
laid to rest in distant days
were thought to be in slumbered rest
now disabuse the present state

peace would reign without the voice
carried from the interned throats
now rising to share their wails
to cast aside forgetting veils

those curtains let in the distress
once thought dead and left behind
demand an answer for the reply
the buried past will be revived.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191215.

When there is so much love to give
there is never enough time to live
the latter too short as consequence
of the former demanding recompense

the many sorrows of the world
with lords’ challenge as the source
array against the yearning hearts
wishing more than plaintive thoughts

those empty gestures of the prayers
demands to gods that don’t care
when trials exist to test the weak
breaking wills beyond reprieve

still the love will try its best
extend to measures within its grasp
asking those who truly care
to step beyond despair's snare.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191214.

Explanations in aftermath
those attempts to demarcate
complexities beyond recall
from explanations quickly found

the simple answers fall away
then swirl around to obfuscate
saying less than most expect
jabbering without intelligence

that true knowing defies the grasp
of pundits stammering consequence
the buzz of flies has more to say
when clarity suffers in dismay

those puzzles of humanity
damning all with words to say
the cause defies narration’s balm
variation befuddling thought.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191213.

The clock twice right each day
may tick as the time is betrayed
no longer tracked in perfect sync
with the cycles of the sane

those timepieces god has blessed
mark the hours as paragons
each with a purpose finely tracked
periods seeped in excellence

contrasted with the broken shells
seeming whole but missing parts
those mimics of horologes
instruments meant to tell no lies

if only all could realize
so much more than time implied
those fabrications most deny
when twice each day wrong is right.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191212.