I came here for the ocean breeze
to hear the lap of distant waves
this was written for all to see
on the page of a resume

this seems romantic at first glance
a desire to work in glamour’s place
you’d wonder why a frown betrays
other motives now in play

another face there to serve
legion questing to relax
I live to serve all their needs
would you like fries with that drink

no longer are the wages earned
palm trees etched in the dusk
beauty framed as the sun sets
now I lapse to why I’ve slaved

anonymous in austere bliss
the retinues reduced to one
serving meals without refrain
of any voices beside my own

I’ll now admit that seaside views
are the same as cityscapes
when the outcome is the same
becoming faceless in paradise.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180621.

I stand bent against the years
casting veils with feeble light
obscuring more than what's shown
as the gloom gathers round

more has gone that I can grasp
in the time that I have left
yet in this place I hope to share
insight I still grasp

a guttered candle to show the way
unlikely guide for those who stray
miscreants of the same stripe
as this taper of dying fire

I offer guidance few may grant
expect for those that travel same
on the paths dimly lit
by example I strive to give

nomads of the shadows
attracted to the wisp
conspiring with the night
to frolic in shadow’s rim

joining in my dance
with beacons of their own
no longer in the dark
we shine by union’s light.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180619.

Who they were is no more
formally known before passing
resurrected at the bequest
of one person, their very self
the butterfly is born to fly
from the form that came before
once thought the perfect shape
normality then transformed

the questing one journeyed far
beyond the walls that defined
security beloved by all
now the chains that hindered life
cast aside though some may ask
the garbs then worn to replace
manacles no longer bound
to discover freedom’s bliss

now the conflict has been resolved
the balance turned to find itself
when safeguards are not enough
what once nurtured is denied
disregarded for health’s sake
the deepest lies are unwound
when the mask is put aside
one shall live, the other dies.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180618.

Everything is ***
except the thing itself
don’t confuse the one
with expression of the first

don’t confuse the two aspects
though that is the intent
when your masters describe
a world put to your eyes

the need propels discourse
evoked for money’s sake
turning round the wheel
displaying the brass ring

hinting what lays beyond
promise to be denied
still the masses sup the drink
as the thirst is widespread

forgive the leading edge
that gives nothing at the end
the design has been set
as old as humankind

when the real is embraced
possession is reticent
asking for interchange
not sold for to ravenous.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180617.

My life resolved around the last
premise sought in precipice
when the end decides my fate
by the drink or the dance

what came before was the lead
flutist calling those who hear
presenting options as I proceed
following blindly as instrument

spinning gears in the machine
for the goal at the last ticks
clicking down as if in a dream
what’s beyond an interim course

these are the avenues I’m bequeathed
walking miles until that time
marking what comes in between
as the space before the end

a star shining in darkened sky
pointing downward as if to say
finality seeks to resolve
dearest wishes from the heart

now the last becomes the first
defined by my will to endure
passage sought to survive
until finality has arrived.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180616.

They said beauty was only pain
suffered so the looks would shine
this seems suspect on the whole
when reasons sought are exposed
with the good comes the bad
a contract struck has a price
address the before drop the walk
to the edge of cliff’s height

the peaks climbed are depths to fall
to pin existence on frailty
of the splendor that may pass
when the years take account
Father Time is none too kind
exacting toil on the fair works
that Mother Earth has bequest
and humans sought to possess

this golden ticket opens doors
into lairs where monsters lurk
wanting only the fresh meat
desiring nothing beyond this treat
banality is creature’s spore
seeking what they do not have
feeding cravings deep within
succor from passing grace

expectations set for visual sake
what’s below matters not
when the surface is the glam
drawings eyes and tweaking hearts
evoking grief in its time
when all the bets are on red
by the fall or the trap
beauty held is only pain.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180615.

I asked the gods how I could pass
remove myself from life's path
step away at long last
to find a peace beyond the pain
they replied with sage advice
though the tone had my voice
still I looked to their words
seeking knowledge for a cure

"first step away from the rest
become the speck that no one sees
by the lack of showing up
fade away like the fog
the pain you hold is your own
nobody cares in their joy
happiness spreads across the land
hold the anguish deep inside"

"in the second become the heel
disregarded where once you shined
for in that praise the focus holds
like the anchor on the shoals
disappoint with small drops
dissuade the care others have
for your efforts then maligned
eroded by noxious acts"

these somber gods had their say
planning how I could withdraw
their dulcet words found fertile soil
with the promise I so longed
once I'm gone none shall cry
when I'm wiped from memory
or cursed for what I reaped
the sole response is a shake of head

a broken specter of past promise
no longer seen in the light
put out of mind lest I taint
records acclaiming purity
this end result becomes the goal
the strategy now set in place
I'll step away by stealth and stain
to find the peace I desire.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180614.

There the future stood alone
sole survivor of the war
absent companions now deceased
not forgotten though they’re gone
the conflicts have no prisoners
only a victor with mortal wounds
residing above the battlefield
too tired to stir from living tombs

between the fears of the past
juggernauts without peer
battling ghosts of dream’s empire
the gilded soldiers of imagery
those dominions were the jewels
hills and dales with beauty's brush
imagination spilled upon the world
by the virtue of romantic fools

it’s not for love they persevere
instead the cause looks to the stars
beyond the shells that strain to live
the quest is for reverie
a yearning of what could be
whispered to the wind to hear
while the storm mutes their voice
a rival born from shadow’s curse

from the well deep within
spinning lies that tear the truth
fragments torn from the light
buried in the dark abyss
resurrected into dread
terror twisted to dismay
apprehension is enough
to defy ambition’s goals

in the end the forces met
gave no quarter in response
strengths applied to weak points
seeking conquest no matter what
extermination became the path
leaving none to stand aside
the lone figure left behind
a future numb to nothing else.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180612.

This is to the lovers I regard
with a fondness from the heart
looking back through the years
at the ones that I’ve embraced

single digits are enough
to measure the base frequency
though the count was too low
to truly gain knowledge’s boon

experience notched fades away
dimming as the years proceed
insufficient at the time
now even less without practice

those very few that I touched
exists beyond the corporal ways
memories left now only fade
with only names left to say.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180611.

Once I had a screaming void
a vacancy that overwhelmed
the otherness on all sides
surrounded by anger’s shoals
echoing rage at life’s wrongs
a million voices all my own
the loneliness was so dark
absorbing light into itself
reflecting back the counterpart

companionship was thought the balm
the fix to all that hurt
injustice vanquished in the end
the champion was at last found
they answered the sirens call
sacrificed the best of life
this vanity became their stand
fighting life on two fronts
slaying demons in endless swarms

the inky depths took a wage
stealing more than their due
while pretending to respond
the battle raged as my hero fought
embracing a contract none should sign
for sanity lost in both of us
realizing too late that victory
was gained at ruin’s prompt
one to save while the other lost

emptiness is now my lot
a vacancy without voice
nor substance found to stand upon
what was a lake is now a line
the old gloom shrunk to a point
so much less than a void
now the blackness has been replaced
the silence there reflects life
only I exist in aftermath.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180610.

Imagination is confined
behind the bars of dogma’s ire
seeking freedom to run free
playing with the celebrants

fantastic dreams are stillborn
when they live in empty halls
supplicants ask their boon
from the Lords that hold the keys

many cried for relief’s balm
as the doors were barred within
curtains pulled to withhold
lurid light from those below

dreams are sought beyond the walls
empty promises without hope
when the muse is contained
encouragement is hard to find

these bulwarks defy the strong
artists starving for impulse
to achieve something more
than simple minds may suppose

in the end the ramparts stand
between the craftsman now denied
what they seek to conceive
no longer serving fantasies.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180609.

I need *** and a new tattoo
pain inflicted by one of two
flowing color on bare skin
just a quickie before I go

scars inflicted pass away
blood is shown to dismay
perfume for the vapid ones
notches cut into the gun

confronting fears behind the light
by tip of the prismatic knife
drumming beat to 70’s tune
bumping ugly with nothing hid

ornate forms yielding space
swirling stains mark the sheets
none shall deny beauty’s place
agony in each small death

now honesty is embraced
tasting each in sharp relief
the pulse engraved to the flesh
before the need returns again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180608.

The challenge of identity
is the blade with two sides
labels meant to illustrate
turning back to decimate

revelation splits the veil
slicing barriers that separate
what was concealed is now revealed
when the knife expands a life

the other edge cuts the hand
when the world retaliates
rejecting the acknowledgment
asking glove now ****** print

at the end the Valkyries
will decide the battle’s end
when the sword seeking peace
turns to fatal injury.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180607.

Flower put into the hair
or pinned to the blessed lapel
this statement of what’s within
displayed in a florist swish

splash of pink to compliment
knowing wink of the eye
stated by the petal form
confirmation if there was doubt

red pronouncement as alternate
blossom fastened to affirm
form fitting to the heart
identifying a florid bent

once a symbol of love bestowed
now the embraced as an affect
reverence for what’s inside
flower applied to the hair.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180605.

It’s a name like the rest
label meant to mark the love
from a family at my birth
now cast to doubt in discontent
bequeathed at birth as an event
put to page as a statement
of the soul to manifest
beyond the time of diapers worn

line in the sand to nominate
what’s bequeathed by the frame
conventional is put aside
when parents gaze on baby’s form
shape as a template offering par
against the breadth of typical
the plausible no longer rules
as spectrums cross to confuse

revelation measures faith
connection to the tag assigned
then the gap is realized
sanity doubted in the routine
gender mixed with desire’s stance
these realized by all kinds
normality seeks to have a say
when the babe finds their way

dysphoria provides a clue
the mold assigned is not enough
irrespective of desire
identity is relevant
transformation is the response
seeking truth by syllables
finding self through new letters
now the name is like the rest.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180604.

Today’s the grist for yesterday
not yet faded by time’s stain
when the photos help sustain
fading memories beyond the veil

forever strains to be held
before the stream slips away
still we’re sure of our strength
to hold a mountain in our hand

the far landscape slowly moves
mistaken for the here and now
while the foreground zips on by
each is the whole of a snapshot

digital voices in their bottles
matched to faces of the past
they’re not the same as the now
it matters not for what’s been done

surety that all is fixed
becomes the falsehood in the end
when today continues on
with yesterdays dropped behind

still I insist I must reside
in a bubble that change resists
while taking photos to sustain
grist to use in future days.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180603.

The mark of hate is the lack
of shared reference to mankind
when derision becomes the norm
in place of the civil tongue

ridicule is the mode
when a voice detests the world
despising what’s not understood
seeking safety behind disdain

erecting walls in response
to the strangers asking due
they’re discounted all the same
as the chattel below the feet

communication flows one way
none can hear when beasts plea
demanding balance in the scheme
denied with slurs are hurled their way

derision spun as calm discourse
or humor from the acid tongue
each rebukes the common ground
permission given to cold scorn

stripped of kinship from the whole
ensured by use of only words
designated for the worms
without the souls of mortal ilk.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180602.

The lever stretched into realms
beyond the timid mortal coil
asking due for traveled steps
without umbrella in shelter’s place

karma twists against the chains
now released by my acts
still I wonder if I’m pure
standing lone outside the storm

this is the story I declare
while decrying what will be
once the threads of been drawn
checked against the ruler’s edge

ignorance no longer serves
the conscience left to survive
against the knot that’s realized
to serve as net or hangman’s noose

my actions stated what would come
even if I’m just a breeze
all too small in moment’s time
a hurricane may manifest

clouds descend to drop their load
prompting tilt up or down
be that climbing heaven’s steps
or descending down to hell.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180601.

Statements come from the screen
those few strangers sharing life
opening windows if not doors
streaming voices to my ears
paced for rushed attention spans
the trail extends beyond my sight
a steady stream I’ve pursued
now I return to pay homage

I consumed them in short time
desire informed by my lack
by the knowledge of who I was
hunger sated in mirror’s face
honesty on the whispered wind
more than most would relate
these voices from the rabbit holes
too brave by twice in utterance

targets for both good and bad
at the worst the trolls come out
unaware of the truth
the gold I find is their dross
tableau of pure suffering
are echoes of an inner space
not the same but close enough
as I’m roused to wave back

now my statements are put forth
sympathy turned to reverence
as I join the pioneers
still upright with wounds concealed
tilting windmills that stand tall
it’s enough to share a nod
affirming tears borne of growth
conveying comfort with my smiles.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180531.

I understand who you are
this is a falsehood in itself
still the familiar is present
an intimate stranger by fate's twist
one knowing other but not reverse
when a view is one way

postings put you on center stage
projected images from afar
too remote to count as friends
evoking emotions felt within
whispers that you'll never hear
on your island all can see

this one way mirror by social means
into a room of partial lies
only what you desire to show
stage dressing for effect
a drop of honesty may be there
with so much left out of sight

in the end what's been shown
is the fraction of a life
staged for ones like myself
the intimate becomes a sham
if only for sanity
so much is hid than is revealed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180529.

I see the shelter as a trap
with my sanctity as the price
when umbrellas aspire to claim
the victim seeking safety’s arms
the canopy dangles high above
beyond my reach yet always there
leading me to step away
into the realms of compromise

I stand outside in the downpour
drenched to the bone through suffering
wanting something to stop the pain
give relief from shower’s bite
I may flee to arid dreams
still the dampness is always there
the shelter asks for everything
that I vow to bend my knees

promising much in a trade
if I only cross the line
protection would be draped
upon my frame in recompense
with a small toll that I must give
splay my body as offering
to be dry becomes the goal
as shadows crawl from fabric’s dome

assuming the position in reverence
ready for violations I can’t forgive
trespass granted for safety’s sake
no longer feeling rain’s cold drops
the umbrellas are raised above
preventing moisture from my life
instead the water flows
from the tears that drown my soul.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180528.

I saw myself on the screen
in the book and through the play
with validation I implore
as I’m judged beyond the fold

this revelation by a spotlight
shined upon the duplicates
near enough to speak my mind
imitator of disparity

affirmation in public view
this is permission for the whole
to avow my place to live
in the group from which I’m estranged

echoes of the hidden lives
sanctioned for all to see
blessing from disclosure’s path
of what was once sadly veiled

affirmation of what I am
what I already knew
is measured by the display
acceptance by the media

broadcast for full regard
the lack is seen at the same time
one or another seems the reward
for culture’s grasp of unity.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180527.

The images put to the page
promise more than life can bring
in short segments that defy
reality shared by culture’s breadth

one could ask how it began
standards set few can hold
in the body or act
illusion spun to ludicrous

proportions spun to the absurd
then presented as routine fare
far beyond what can be found
in the realm of normal life

comical would be the call
put aside as clownish acts
except for the obsession found
in consumers of the tripe

that ivory tower few can climb
put to tape or printed sheet
stated as the standard found
taunting those walk below

still the plebes will attempt
to pursue the model set
stoking anger when they fail
to replicate illusion’s path.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180526.

Forgive me while I step away
from the clan that betrays
respect for others despite the cost
to a world they spit upon

the promise was lost when low fought back
against the shadows that held the world
with cold chains that served one group
while keeping rest in servitude

the brass ring could not be found
legacy of the elders lost
when revolt aroused the meek
finding strength to have revenge

then the howl is heard below
the highest towers brought so low
ground is leveled to detriment
of those who fell to earth

once their passion was to reign
lust denied is anger’s rage
monsters rise to assert
expired claims to manhood

forgive me while I step away
from the gender that can’t adapt
to allowance for their state
in the world that has fought back.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180524.

The spiral spins to the earth
turning round in projectile’s curve
sometimes up for a spell
then circling sadly towards that spot

impact delayed but not denied
postponed until the right time
though some would say this is false
a toll is waged for all involved

while the planning is disguised
behind a mask opaque to sight
the bystanders gaze upon
a false calm before impact

then gravity consumes desire
to escape the twisting arc
survival spun to be denied
no longer knowing up from down

this one direction is foretold
shade of Icarus now fulfilled
a doom once postponed for lost hope
now embraced for mercy’s sake

when wings succumb to the despair
no longer aiding upward lift
towards the realms of sanity
final impact at spiral’s end.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180522.

They walked a path alone
resembling the norm by only half
with the society as a single part
the remainder was their own

reality twisted to match their whims
the ether bent by force of will
turned to match the innerscape
of a soul that wished to fly

convention was coincidence
on the journey above the rest
embraced if only to assure
life and liberty continued on

to merely thrive was not enough
when the trickster conjoined the fox
each contributing to rebellion's game
moving beyond the nine to five

religion became the trinket held
as the faith of other folk
imbued with magic still not felt
by the one that defined themselves

identity moved to the spread
a spectrum between two points
the poles rejected as the place
the hat was hung for attraction's gaze

what they liked and how they stood
identity of who they were
came on terms self-defined
with the acronym begun with L

this rebellion came at a cost
supporting structures were recast
to the family beyond mere blood
embraced many to support the one

now I follow with rapt intent
observing what I may glimpse
of the soul that walked alone
bending life to match their heart.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180521.

The remedy becomes the ill
in due time the fall occurs
the trap is laid at the start
waiting for its time to come

monsters lay beyond the balm
remedies that go awry
when the cure becomes the curse
bending bodies to be worse

when the drug is self-applied
calamity lurks to feed
on the souls that desire
something else then hell’s hot fires

intruding on the here and now
cultured by the need to soothe
pains inflicted on the coil
lead to those of the abyss

need consumes reticence
caution lost to feed the beast
the peace once sought is denied
when the remedy is the ill.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180520.

Proximity becomes the balm
welcomed shelter from the storm
when two people drop the walls
finding peace in their arms

when the space has given way
walls no longer separate
between the souls needing more
than the speech from vapid tongues

it’s more than body parts
slotting A to match B
fireworks in a moment’s bliss
then comes darkness afterwards

instead the fruit is more sweet
confirmation that we exist
this is forgotten even when
intimacy is only ***

in each moment of embrace
another waits beyond time’s veil
the supply that buoys lives
treasures found none can deny

the nearness fills my life with love
affirming I should stay above
when two people drop the walls
each finds comfort above all else.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180519.

As fragile as the passing breeze
words are cast to disappear
still I take sure comfort
creation is my genesis

transformation few may see
I’ll pursue in revelry
of sanity found in a phrase
turned to mad utterance

tossed into the hurricane
lost among the blown debris
still I bend to muse’s wish
to generate a daily breath

life assures that all is hid
beneath the layers of poet’s craft
this tidal wave of poetry
cresting over my meager speech

to that end I’ll put aside
the need for fame’s cold hand
asking more than I can give
while I struggle to remain alive

thoughts that wander are not lost
like mist dispersed in morning light
there are still memories
forever written in life’s dream

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180518.

Allow me to hum a tune
while we dance to music’s lead
sent by the muse with no strings
except to join as a chorus
song embarked on our romp
close enough to be heard

while the room is ignorant
of our blessing from our voice
two blessed souls lost to time
floating in our confidence
bubble found where we can soar
transcending sound vocalized

when small talk is not enough
we’ve crossed that bridge long ago
conversation turned to song
elevation of dialogue
synchronized the best we can
without training or practice spent

engaging with a pure intent
inspired by minstrel’s steady beat
accompaniment to joy’s wry glee
jester found inside of each
not a crooner in earnest
instead bliss celebrates

while we the key may be off
or the words be muttered forth
the intent is to embrace
celebration of jubilee.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180517.

I’m now driven to have a voice
turned to share with Kings and serfs
with the former in charge of change
ruling latter by force of will
while the common may share my pain
bent to meet their master’s fears
it’s to the Lords that I’ll submit
rhyming tomes of spoken verse

at first I put the words to page
quatrained statements in the wind
stating truth that few did read
when given choice to turn away
even when the ink was blood
sourced from wounds I sought to tell
these relics from a bygone age
were as feathers in gusting rain

a voice broke out into the void
first a whisper and then a roar
demanding hue from all around
especially those behind their walls
the verbal hammer molded iron
crafting tools that shattered realms
where the Nobles sat above
these unwilling are dragged to court

my pointed tongue condemns their lot
as truth is told through God’s true face
by their mouth the veil is ripped
tumbling Kings to their fates
this high claim may be too much
wishful boasting from a sad bard
still I’ll state the minds of serfs
while damning sins the Kings commit.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180514.

The here and now share a trait
a chortling joke of divine strain
forever lasting and still obtuse
missed by minors below that grade
dire odds are cast to tease the fool
presented by same to sooth the mind
assume that one will follow the other
even though history denies the dream

first the assumption measures the now
this clear understanding of what should be
set on foundation of shifting sand
engulfing the fantasies most closely held
this doesn’t matter when castles are mist
with bricks made of vapor consumed in the dawn
assumed to be real by twilight appeal
that realm of landscapes behind sleep’s blurred veil

the future compounds the quiet delusion
designed by the leaders with hidden agendas
not truly evil though this may be muddled
by conflicting motives of equally sad fiction
‘walk there and do that’ becomes the shared mantra
they can be same when past is confusion
splitting and merging in their collisions
each asking flesh with full committal

don’t lose your faith with my words of discernment
railing against the abuse of the soul
the jest lays outside of permission
when truth only serves the master’s whim
the less is found in this awareness
as roads are detoured for what’s more precious
with all due chances of humor’s bliss
circling from now to future’s poor fiction.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180513.

If I could stand as a spark
scant example to like minds
this existing becomes too small
to have some meaning beyond this shell
my slight ember is too weak
to purge the darkness of dire ills
dispassion banished from this plane
is fever dream of dogma's slaves

a mere breeze would be enough
to ***** the vibrance from my life
even as I find my way
shining brighter and still fragile
contrary views are manifest
combining raging tempest winds
with inferno’s appetite
claiming all who choose to fight

against the scourge of normative
intolerant asking for the right
to crush their fears by any means
resulting gloom is victory
half a bubble, if not more
my defiance from the mark
a small candle in these words
inviting other to share their light

the combined will not be squelched
no matter what their urgent wish
tyrants rage when they’re denied
when the stage is shared by all
clustering sparks against our doom
illuminate what many share
celebrate with blinding fire
whose who stand at my side.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180512.

The acts I perform in pursuit
of the core of who I truly am
are secondary to what’s behind
franker realms that define

the spectrums direct how I bend
observing beauties in my world
this is a filter for God’s grace
the executed shaded thus

these outward deeds may conflict
with the norms of other folk
even as the source is same
prompting acts they dismay

truest love observes the heart
affections lead the physical
feelings prompting what then trails
affirming passions felt within.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180511.

When the monsters gather round
all too ready to devour
I seek safety in the shrinking light
while the danger consumes me whole
I'd rather perish from this place
escaping by means that should not be
than meet the shadows that would consume
certitude of happiness.

Anxieties can hold sway
over souls too hurt to try
bleeding from a thousand cuts
the gaping wounds I now ignore
this greatest laugh of them all
to be a failure in public's eye
is seen less than efforts put
to cleaning up the shattered past.

The bitter pill is swallowed fast
steel barrel put down the throat
marking breaks from monsters round
it's all to sad they'll multiply
celebrating their winning taint
result of my giving up
leaving battles that can't be won
by the survivors left behind.

My escape could be enough
serenity found outside of life
I'll tell myself this greatest lie
while monsters gather I cannot fight
I pretend that I'm OK
anxiety absent on the bright days
this would be true if the sun shown
instead of gloom where I walk.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180510.

Three by three becomes my world
the precipice to the beyond
has a step to stop pain
another square that calls my name

always there within my sight
siren to wounded soul
with the taunt of cold relief
in two tons moving past

this narrow place of sanity
sorrow reigns in spaces left
cognizance is betrayed
by the tears then exclaimed

all the spectrums become one
celebration has been squashed
by the fool that stands outside
on the last stop I'd like to take

a single step off from the nine
the ending place for my world
with no turning back against the push
three by three I should have stayed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180509.

When the void lays beyond
down a path none may avoid
this one-way trek to the outside
rushes forward to meet all

around the curve of the path
the soul staggers to stand upright
chains imprison those who fly
flanked by walls none can climb

behind the door bound in iron
greatest barrier known to man
defying those who may explore
thick as smoke when we fall

the destination is far beyond
still too close in moment’s breath
by the grace some may persist
while others fall between the cracks

cloaked behind firm beliefs
that state unknowns none shall see
until they cross beyond our sight
without a voice to verify

some will stumble towards the edge
while others run the opposite
time will test the rebel hearts
dark reward is the escape.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180508.

I tried to save a drowning world
just one person or many more
in response I found myself
holding tight to a slack rope
consider why this might be
the cause for rampant suffering
victims sent to their fates
while the waters drew them in

dissonance will rule the day
when cognitive is sent astray
denying all that conflicts
with beliefs held close to heart
contradictions are the norm
up is down while left is right
as the discomfort indicates
worse may come if truth is met

embarrassment follows next
declaring error cannot pass
for losing face is tantamount
to deepest shame one can endure
in for the penny says the proud
a pound to follow no matter what
to see the end at any price
if pride is bruised by facts at hand

information is not enough
when stubbornness is job one
drawing lines that can’t be crossed
without offending ego’s charge
by the bane of firm belief
buttressed by aplomb’s deceit
the afflicted will turn away
descending deep to liquid graves.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180507.

Comfort sought in private rage
with a group that feels the same
shields its face from public view
as comments echo rage’s words
purity born of shadowed realms
asking all to close the doors
pull the curtains against the world
what’s to be said is for few ears.

Hatred spun in close discourse
with a circle that says it's fine
the stakes are set to forgive
whatever said behind four walls
prejudice is the oil
allowing comments to then flow
when us and them are broken down
to black and white simplicity.

None shall see these ****** cues
projected to the secret screens
be they said in Sunday sermons
or the mob on message boards
all the people in the room
identify on one side of the poles
chanting mantras born of power
turned around to hatred spoke.

If the public hears these private thoughts
condemnation will follow soon
it’s best to put on another mask
when walking amongst the rubes
what’s allowed in confession’s booth
will convict the same in public’s eye
it’s no wonder that schizophrenic is a term
too often apt for private rage.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180506.

I once walked upon the ice
seeking spice for my life
there I found so much more
forever exiled to beyond
the cravings lured me from the edge
of firm ground where I once lived
once enough to satisfy
I wanted more than I had.

At first the cracks were quite small
in response to each foot fall
with a creak that shadowed steps
I wandered further towards my lust
seeing was enough to prompt
inclination to have more
while surface shifted shape
demonstrating danger’s trace.

There was trembling beneath my feet
with constant threat of cleaving base
I made the choice to dance about
between the cracks destroying truth
what once I knew was not enough
risking all to sample treats
predilections satisfied
by the forbidden found at last.

The plunge beneath stole my breath
no turning back to walk above
as I perished to the past
six feet down and falling fast
now escape eludes my thoughts
cravings turned inside out
wishing land could be found
away from cravings that brought me low.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180505.

I'm not the one you truly need
when the want becomes a lust
for what’s beyond normality
surrogate sought by the lost

presenting signs pointing up
to the past and future both
with the tenets soaked in blood
bruises black from wheel’s turn

no matter what I seem to say
look away from the pit
even as the sirens wail
from the shoals of whispered pain

there’s wisdom latent in the dark
camouflaged by assumptions
a forecast I must dissuade
unless you wish to lose your way

words conveyed from time’s past
murmurs of significance
should be view with mistrust
if those who lead are still lost

answers become the currency
consider where you may spend
what’s suspect with due warning
I’m not the one you truly need.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180503.

When static is all I have
replacing what could have been
I’ll persist before I fade
leaving words stamped on page

where I once had high thoughts
the lofty that spun the spires
now there is only cold fog
asking if they ever were

art becomes my last stand
dispersed by fear’s long gaze
a decline that I’ll insist
is natural with no escape

like drops collected over time
they’re lost in the low lake
drowning while still alive
seeking return to higher ground

slipping down a hill
disquiet set in the soul
twisted as if to slow
the last dread now entwined

those horrors become a norm
panic turned into dismay
companion found to be dead
like the hum under skin

when quiet becomes the salve
soft buzz is all that’s left
the craft is a headstone
a shrine for what came before

evoking ruins found above
while the heart beats below
slowed to match nothingness
the bed I long to lay.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180502.

I once viewed anger as a coin
the trespass I could spend
against a world that seared my soul
and in response to boundary's breach
I'd fling arrows with flaming ends
striking down my enemies

the world would burn in response
cinders laying hot on the ground
to the affronts hurled my way
I'd scorch the planet to the stone
take the innocent with the vile
in an effort to survive

the rage of God would not compare
that righteous hand exacting toil
on the sinners I've declared
they will suffer tens times more
then one hundred to soothe my rage
asking only that they may die

anger lives in my soul
a demigod born within
seeking ruin on all my foes
now the wastes are my abode
destruction granted by Satan's wish
granted then as anger's coin.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180501.

What's been lost cannot be found
though it may lurk in plain sight
when the tumble down the hill
results in grace torn to shreds
we're all human in the end
these digressions are the norm
seeking wounds will only end
with a fall to deepest pits

it's the freak that stands above
without the skeletons duly hid
those slips of will in anger's course
or lust embraced instead of trust
pity their soul until the time
their turn is taken to devolve
because the low road calls to all
the quick drop from Heaven's peak

it's all fair in love and war
we tell ourselves as bullets fly
indiscretion met with same
indignation through carnal strife
mix the two with sure knowledge
there are no saints in the end
only wounded of pained degrees
seeking payback none shall have

sympathy will cut both ways
when the mud covers all
there are no winners in the end
even the Devil pities men
it's no wonder there are few
with white wings of angel kin
standing on hills above the rest
the high ground few will retain.

Life evolved is pain embraced
as the portal to paths beyond
even as we circle back
returned to the echo’s pit
listening to the vibrato
bouncing between there and now
expression of what should not be
resounding true to base desires

no longer slave to pleasure’s taint
even as the same is sought
answering siren’s song from the rocks
‘turn away’ beg the gods
shackles dropped become the quest
not left long on the ground
as the demons ask their due
to reattach the hated chains

keep the chant in front of you
gaze upon the healthy choice
while the whispers are so sweet
‘return to me to ease your mind’
that hole persisting beneath the cloth
asking only to be fulfilled
with no price submitted at the feast
then claiming all for desire’s thirst.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180429.

I see the cart proceed the horse
the rote of role dictating all
with scant room to express
identity born outside the path
asking for a remedy
what came before is not the dream
instead I look beyond to see
what lays beyond the ramparts rent.

Don’t mind the walls tumbling down
they served a purpose that’s now gone
in the rubble a flower grows
retrieving beauty from turmoil
the straight and narrow was their goal
those constructions of family
society and the good of all
manacles bound against my soul.

I’ve only wrecked my precious world
ruin is a word too harsh
‘realized’ is appropo
for the outcome I’ll now embrace
all the stones will be retrieved
then put in rows that fit the plan
of a life that’s been transformed
to echo maps found within.

You’re left with realms of your own
though I may hint a larger scope
perhaps you’ll sense resonance
so be this gift of rapport
the cart may lead the sad horse
this is the way before we bloom
don’t fear exchange as the balm
you’ll find yourself outside of rote.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180428.

First proclaimed in the year
Madonna reached half century
another day to celebrate
what’s made evident to be blessed
26th of April’s breadth
visibility on the breeze
what was covert is now made plain
a healthy wind that still blows

It’s the day to be seen
out of closets into day
for the fair that love the same
walking tall without shame
by the singles or the pairs
it’s still pure no matter what
beauty found and then proclaimed
fealty to life’s desire.

Relationships bloom from love’s loam
too long buried in plain sight
what was hid is now
bearing fruit for future’s gain
what’s once kindled none should forsake
no longer should the door be closed
celebrating the joy of self
shared with others in love’s embrace.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180426.

We're all victims in some way
seeking healing dipped in shame
pursued with agency of the one
on their side of parley’s route

top to bottom will find relief
give or take sensation’s bliss
euphoria by experience
negotiation spun to scratch the itch

there are two paths to be traveled
to salve a psyche with a scourge
by the harrier or the fawn
each has a place of their own

sourced from drama of the past
when the virtues are misplaced
put aside to fill a void
what’s then found is embraced

by one route or another
let’s not judge the controversy
when consenting is the theme
between adults seeking glee

putting forth or ******* in
tendrils of the embraced pain
we’re all victims in some way
living life in savagery.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180425.

If I could write a poem
bend the words to my will
creating stanzas that express
rapture captured by music's voice
these songs evoke a different land
one more beautiful than bland verse
soaring high as eagles may
while I trudge low with lame quatrains.

I'd join the masters of the verse
if music was a skill of mine
or words spilled from my mouth
mixing verse with harmony
sadly mine is weak tradecraft
with a lack of concert's kick
as I wonder into realms
shared by those who write the word.

I'm not sure what others see
observing songs' heritage
poetry grants a wide boon
to those who take up the sword
free form mocks a cousin's flow
like real life to a musical
when the grit is sole pursuit
carving words to the page.

I embrace this in my rage
or when grief strikes me down
stumbling on the lyricist's path
for a time before standing up
then I drift back to what I know
pretend I can write the song
without the tunes that would complete
what I seek in melody.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180424.

Don’t apply the fixed ink
to my skin as a statement
because one day I’ll regret
actions taken fixed in time
that’s the rub of my thoughts
I’ve changing far too much
with my skin as scant space
to illustrate the breadth of life

first consider how I flex
coming out as I am
realization of the shade
brought sight in the light
learning more through decades
discarding visions of past years
what once fit is now outgrown
evolving far to altered states

this tidal wave born of age
seeks to find expression’s page
a place to draw or write a truth
expressed in volumes I can’t conceive
if each shift was a stamp
I’d be covered at my age
with imprints of needle’s point
skin would hide by pics merged

into this void I found a tool
avoiding dye put to flesh
still I must find a way
process history before it fades
ink to paper becomes my craft
molding nicely to my life
with the room I need to state
actions taken fixed in time.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180423.