of all the people I could wish
to know my life in this moment
there is a soul above all else
who stands apart the here and now

the separation of the miles
too many for a quick jaunt
is a barrier that confounds
if worst did not compound

there is a god in heaven above
who judges the chaff from the grain
religion brought up a wall
breaking bonds that defied time

to this I'll cry a thousand times
know separation in my heart
of all the people I could wish
there is one to whom I'm dead

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180218.

I could whisper dire warnings
or scream to have the deaf hear
the result is same both ways
for the knowing and the numb
both show compassion for my plight
each struggles in their own way
to react with helpfulness
stop my hand from harmful end

ignorance is the best haven
of those who walk in lily fields
with a bliss of newborn babes
there is no blame for lucky ones
for in their hearts they can't relate
or understand the painful place
to speak to them will do no good
these caring allies with few tools

this contrasts with fellow kin
who exist in shades of pain
seeking exit that can't be found
except by ways that all condemn
they relate with torn flesh
attempts to end the torment felt
this gives no pill that cures the soul
instead reminder of lost hope

in the end I feel alone
standing next to idles hands
filled with camps that stand outside
my pool of shame with one desire
the clueless gawk at my wounds
while knowing look to see their own
the sum is nothing for this one
with screams and whispers for the world.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180219.

There was a time when I was young
years before the present time
when my interests deviated
from the life I now pursue

these fashion choices hold no shame
nor do my interests in culture’s realm
all are foundation to who I am
with these years as origin

Menudo was my favorite band
posters covering bedroom walls
Rickey Martin went to fame
on the love of favorite fan

Hello Kitty defined my clothes
jeans and polo found to match
sublime in pink with flowers pinned
or the bow put to my hair

Risky Business was my job
with revelation of bare skin
from the top to the bottom
stripping fame by fruit string things

last I’ll remark about my passion
for rocker eyes and pink hair
neon polish on fingernails
Cyndi Lauper was my twin

all of these contradict
the buttoned down chap you see
in the now I’m quite plain
looking back to time of youth

don’t show surprise at what I’ve shared
everyone comes from the past
with the loves they may not show
though in their heart they still exist.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180218.

Just kiss me
so I can feel
fireworks of lips
exploding my mind

just hold me
so I am connected
removing space
all of the air

just leave me
because it is false
only memories
of life in a void

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180217.

If I could sew on my wings
a rainbow’s worth of many colors
stolen from the secret vault
put on my back so I could fly
would I bloom from within
in response to this invite
stitched with love of the self
at last coming to the front.

For too long the dungeon held
my truest spark in strong chains
formed to ease other minds
while mine lost a grip on life
with the mask seeming plain
these prison bars blocked my way
four walls made up the cage
the convict trapped within.

Doors drop away when I reveal
imagined self to the world
denial removed from my sphere
origins blossoming at long last
I'll take up the needle and thread
force transformation with these tools
revealing how I long to be
by addition of fae wings.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180216.

Look to the prequel as the start
premiere to what you know
explaining how the journey started
by new beginnings beyond the now

motivations brought to the front
the end was known but not the spur
now explained with characters
some were known and rest expire

before the dusk there was a dawn
darkest night to be revealed
past to present is exposed
actions taken before fate’s end

canon is the trek of karma
the bomb ignited with the match
look to the prequel for the start
revolution formed on whisper’s brink.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180215.

Passion burned hot in the past
logs crest with tongues of fire
scorching air with their touch
radiant heat felt by those
standing close to the flame
giving same in response

now only ash is in the hearth
powdered memories of the past
with no cords to fill the gap
ample fuel short at hand
they're not stacked for fervor's gain
when resolve has passed away

embers promise a last hurrah
all too faint in winter's draft
then these fail like the rest
eternal cold fills my life
warmth a memory on this path
until the grave is found at last.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180213.

I shunned the spirits now departed
denied their right to exist
spoke to the mirror with righteous ire
there is no such thing as ghosts
whispers from the edge of sight
deny the mantra I'll repeat
no matter how I spend my breath
the evidence denies the rant

curtains cloak the tall windows
the past portal of light's entrance
when they're opened I view a world
filled by fog of somber gray
the garden paths where I walked
circle back to stolid doors
the only way to return within
while the gates to the outside are barred

lighting the candles against the dark
denying space for lingering wraiths
chasing specters with feeble flame
even as I dread the truth
still the shadows fill the room
meeting mine as lovers would
hinting knowledge I dare to speak
lest I admit my life has ebbed

the departed have their realm
with the unhappy not yet passed
mirror of the living state
existing behind the veil of death
so many years have progressed
I've been lost in certainty
now I know the time has come
to realize that I'm the haunt.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180212.

The quick glance is sent my way
one of many across the days
then repetition weaves a tale
of something more in the wind
fleeting hints recognized
sideways look sent to me
one of many in each day
blurred in passing, almost unseen

there are millions that interact
perhaps thousands, it matters not
when the few broach the walls
that surround my frail ego
I have to wonder about intent
cynicism is the foe
whispering doubt into the ear
warning off what could be good

friendships blossom from the void
all those cues that life presents
if only I could sift the gold
from the chaff of the storm
the die is cast against the odds
two people looking across the gulf
wondering if there is truth
connection made in fleeting hints.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180211.

Here’s the struggle I face each day
to stay awake or lay to sleep
tiredness grips my daylight frame
the need to strive evades the night

the preference is evoked
by the side of fence to which I stand
one or the other would be best
except it’s not the one I’m on

here’s the joke on this soul
there are people on each side
some I know, the most I don’t
walking through the halls of life

in the waking I may dance
while in sleep I do the same
the mode is different on each side
with comforts found in unlike ways

the veil of dreams is an escape
so is waking at best of times
divergence from these storied realms
speaks to darkness neither holds

death in love is my chord
the tune struck by this struggle
wanting something I can’t have
final peace from consciousness.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180210.

How I love my kitten heels
the squat kin of towering tilt
I'll embrace the feline cleats
brought to earth for mortal feet

once thought old-fashion by the kids
now cool enough for a night out
or daytime fun instead of sneaks
snazzy fashion around the clock

60’s flashback with options
of pumps or slingbacks I could wear
perhaps the heel could be exposed
skin revealed with bit of height

a Tiffany breakfast still inspires
steal a million with this meow
Hepburn is my fashion idol
presenting chic that's come around

the playbook has all the styles
colors, fabrics, and the bows
paired with dress or roughed-up jeans
the more casual is best of all

not the wedge, I'll pass on that
stiletto rear is the preference
kitten heels are now my style
embracing comfort above the ground.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180209.

It's not my bra, this I'll announce
construction of lace and wire
an implement to help restrain
what blessed nature has endowed

with a cup size that full enfolds
generosity I have up top
more than a handful is enough
to ask support when I dress up

the size is right for my frame
fitted by helping hands
front to back with soft straps
triple clasp to hold fast

pink or red, it's all the same
color echoes romantic bliss
once engaged and then removed
nature follows passion's course

one for the plunge, another prim
each occasion to be addressed
with the shear or full frock
delight is taken in the choice

swathed in beauty to accent
presentation abetted by lift's aid
I could live my life with delight
it's not my bra, though I wish it was.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180208.

I need a new set of wings
to lift me from this patch of ground
providing views of who I am
above the bane of sanity

this nest does not suit my mind
when I gaze into the frame
of the mirrors I've past despised
because they return error's stain

the images drag me down
armor aching on my frame
asking how I can rise above
while holding echoes of my past

I'm wrapped in chains when I soar
straitjacket instead of feathers worn
able to see the broad sky
confined by tethers to only glide

the old wings had no lift
instead they held me close to earth
feathers fall to spot the ground
shedding now for new growth

spray of color with shades of gray
age's badge I must embrace
never too late to find my space
these new wings will take me there.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180206.

Once I tell you who I am
the world will still revolve
same as before truth came out
oh so small in breadth of time
shocking secrets become numb
inadequate to stir the heart
volume turned down to zero
against the thunder of mankind

this pin ***** of my flesh
imagines rivers as result
drowning those in the way
not yet scrambled to high ground
only drops are squeezed forth
imbued by all I am
now brought low when I compare
veneration of the world's toils

participants in my charade
honored guests of the sham
witness the grand unveiling
it's all trite in dull hindsight
when the other dramas reign
as important as what I betray
so much more considering
their expiry is more than mine

put aside my revelations
they matter not on the whole
pass me yours if you insist
I'll honor struggles of my friends
none of this is permanent
just a drop in our loves
ripples marking this passage
yours and mine in breadth of time.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180205.

They asked me if I had a type
predicate for desire’s aim
that filter through which life strains
beauty in its purest vein

I responded that mirrors lie
while sight assures who I should be
reflections through imagery
assuring more than I enfold

evidence fits the puzzle’s face
repetition by each day
once again conviction states
it’s not madness to believe

in the end I may love myself
through surrogates of loveliness
statements of the sincere views
who I’d be if I were true.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180204.

I use the words to cloak myself
even as I stand in the ****
asking all to see nothing
while exposure is decreed

it’s no wonder confusion reigns
as readers try to understand
glimpses seen of private parts
blurred for safety of innocence

revelation is far to raw
testimony beyond the shade
stating more than most wish
even though it’s commonplace

bereft of garments that could protect
I weave my own in colored verse
hinting more than what’s said
on the surface of the page

letters shield my intent
when the reader is confused
with no reference to their own
mumbo jumbo are my clothes

the insightful strip me down
seeing bits that are unclad
victory achieved at long last
lettered deeds explaining self.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180203.

Diagnosis now confirmed
no need to worry anymore
all's that left is to exist
based on the verdict I can't dismiss

checkbox marked on the form
DSM stating the obvious
discerning the true verdict
from the wreckage of my life

now the path has been prescribed
in the book of consequence
unknown pages yet unturned
none or more before the cure

being broken is not enough
medicine must be consumed
if the diagnosis is made firm
the undoing is all that's left.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180202.

Perfect honesty could be my end
as the beginning is finally sought
asking to be taken seriously
between revelations none shall believe

the greatest risk is not attack
it’s instead to be sent away
an alien beyond love of expressed
in deserts found where souls die

asking notice by flagrant means
when the stage invites detours
from safe roads lined with chains
when in the distant the rainbows gleam

these fruits are born on sheltered trees
clustered orchards remove the freak
requesting safety when mirrors show
alike few discerning same

pools of assent are what I seek
being wanted for who I am
it’s not that I must love myself
I wish instead that I’m desired

acceptance is the best defense
prompting numbness as I present
glimpses of growths behind the veil
integrity asking for compensate

here is the danger I represent
asking notice by flagrant means
verity flapping from self-owned tongue
abetting the world to bear witness

the void is never completely blank
there are creations by God’s hand
that flow together when honesty reigns
no longer serious but all too real.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180201.

They said that I would find
reason in contrary straits
to these ends I flung myself
****** by what was found

I sought perfection in the void
far beyond the mess of life
there was nothing to be done
when the vacuum filled my lungs

beauty was searched for in the dark
among the crags of startling height
cue the falls before I found
loveliness could be fetched

joy lurked in the hot fire
stinging all that hunted there
the gray ash was left of me
after flesh flowed from my bones

sanity waited beyond my reach
in perfection no longer found
broken far below the life’s grace
bliss lost to consuming flames.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180130.

She asked me if I fed the deer
scattering grain through the glade
seeking more than I possessed
by small gifts cast to ground
wisdom springs from seeds planted
in fertile soil of pensive souls
storms stir deep, out of sight
asking magic to be described.

There are villains in the woods
selfish imps that trust no one
holding captive the travelers
who sought passage to beyond
grace possessed by the trapped
turned inward by consequence
by fairy realms the fruits are masked
bending then to dogma’s clout.

The guardians of humanity
walk between the two realms
both the soft and the strong
held in hand to find the way
both the doe and the buck
walk the paths that lead out
revelations lead to the dawn
stripping chains from the oppressed.

On the trails from here to there
we are asked to find our way
by the magic of the guides
returning gifts cast to the ground
I’m still lost in the beyond
while she holds my hand to soothe
what’s been found has fed the deer
wishing more could be revealed.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180129.

Ask the old ones if they remember
when the vans arrived in the night
taking those dismissed by God
I mean the one that rules this cruel world
the grievous sins of past monsters
brought to bear in time of Shoah
are duly marked in black and white
fading to gray in history’s light.

This is forgotten in modern times
as wise men believe there is a place
to speak with tongues of equal weight
to demons pouring from Sheol
skittering with considered options
torches held high to show their faces
these are the minions for the mighty
allowing the vermin to spread among us.

The wink and the nod from pulpit
covering the leader who has no sorrow
fear is the fuel for what has now bloomed
the poison fast spread, consuming the good
look to the world to ask what’s happened
the old ones would state the obvious
monsters have come from the shadows
the other God rules with night now closing.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180128.

Brunette sprite of fairy kin
this impression fills my eyes
lending reason to the call
of shifting to another shell
you may wonder why I long
to fold back to a past icon
personifying so much grace
I’ll tell you why in words of prose.

Pixie haircut framing orbs
hazel green looked at the world
even in the black and white
the magic shown to be revealed
stature blessed by touch of Venus
perfect nose, to me it matters
all of this displays the answer
consideration of what I’m missing.

Reflection from a bygone age
hinting at who I should be
when satisfaction of the gaze
echoes more than beauty’s praise
you may see just an actress
one of many across the decades
this may be true for the ones
not seeing more in Hepburn’s charm.

Of course I speak of sweet Audrey
with a star that still shines bright
muse of my bearing if I could wish
to shift so much in nature’s realm
time and space should concede
warp to fill my deepest dream
of matching looks to dear Edda
the ardent wishes I feel within.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180127.

Look to the purpose of your life
from the hate or the love
there is a choice to be made
the reason to wake each day
when the balm of sleep arrives
life is reset for a time
only to revisit once again
the vexes that haunt everyone

differences are made all too plain
between yourself and the world
in greater number than most could count
this abuses passion’s stance
the status quo seeks to resist
deviations from a baseline
the norm is sought in each box
look to see there’s more than one

here’s the joke in God’s eye
why she laughs your choice
or is it he, or group of they
the pantheons defy small mankind
destiny in these hands
asks dispute in followers’ stead
variation could be the spice
or deadly poison for all involved

back to purpose of your life
outside of norms and dogma’s angst
hate or love in settlement
where the flag will be set
such resolve is waking’s challenge
from realm of sleep to consciousness
the choice to live is your own
which way to turn is soul’s resolve

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180126.

Once a top was a shirt
and the bottom was a skirt
with the switch as the time
when work was put aside
now language has evolved
words turned to evoke
positions of the heart
as outcomes of desire

power of the crown
ignoring gentle grace
as the mighty drives
by virtue of their focus
once this was the suit
with padding up to there
now that's put aside
for leather and some chains

moving to the lowest
receiver of attention
it's not a bad place
to practice how to catch
lower half of the trunk
that's where fashion puts them
the same is true for the topic
illustrated by this poem

changing at the whims
consent from all involved
the rules are turned over
as positions swap around
flip-flop is not the shoe
instead it's a diversion
of giving and receiving
reversal of the pleasure

words mean something else
position leads the way
as Tinder feeds the flames
statements made for play
put aside the garments
they're no longer needed
the bottom and the top
directed by their station.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180124.

Write me a love letter
spoken from the heart
but don’t use mere paper
other ways will suffice

messages are delivered
on tip of tongue or otherwise
conveyed by love’s passion
asking for attention’s span

sounding the unknown depths
where emotion responds in kind
seeking like from this one
I’ll react with the same

dispatch will be accepted
to be returned with joy
a letter sent in response
to fondness bestowed from afar

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180125.

Beware fair traveler if you may
shadows flitting in the field
though they may seem close at hand
they’ll move away when you draw near

‘come and visit’ they seem to yell
more a whisper in your head
luring dupes to their deaths
leading them to unlocked gate

the paths are safe when well lit
trod by many, here to there
ignoring glimmer flitting orbs
safety found in boredom's realm

the warning signs on the fence
state that all should stay away
a soul is forfeit to pay entry
passage through the unlocked gate

gravity is shared by all
fixing feet to the ground
when the holy is held high
against the faeries of the glade

sadly this is not enough
wanderlust consumes caution
into the arms of fay killers
it’s one-way by unlocked gate.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180123.

If I could name my top regret
source of sorrow in my heart
the villain would the masks
I wear in place of myself

marked with the happy smile
or confidence in business stride
cookie-cutter to appease
disregarding the inner peace

revelation has come at last
then put aside to compensate
for the whims of other men
those who would not understand

such is the challenge I now face
excuse the pun that's been made
while the veil obscures your sight
you'll hear the tears behind the smile

this shell enabled to present
a false guise that brings me grief
blessed by all who walk outside
while I mourn what's lost inside

when the physical does not explain
mute assistant of my pain
giving comfort to the lie
regret struggling in my life.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180122.

The world bends in this space
put to task in face of joy
when consent is manifest
as music plays to set the tone

notes are transport for the heart
not turned to love, instead to like
of the company near at hand
held close enough to block the world

we two souls would walk alone
seeking comfort from the storm
are brought together to find bliss
if for a moment, or a few more

creating more than I could ask
boon passed down by God’s grace
though the pundits would differ
they’re not the ones that I embrace

at this point the dance recedes
glorious path is put aside
no longer focus of my step
when an angel fills my arms

smile bedecking lovely frame
I’ll hold them close in this space
reality consumed by joy
if for a moment, I’m now blessed.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180121.

In mere seconds the world would change
with a choice made in the dark

framed by the strobing lights
red and blue in the night
sad beginning of the end
embarking in memorial

the journey cut short in step
by a hand that had enough
consider what will not be
the fixed end of the mysteries

revelations no longer made
concluding chapter to the book
the pen is left on the page
ink replaced by weeping rush

mixing past with the pain
blurring lines no longer seen
all the memories are enclosed
in the tomb submerged in tears

the only sound heard within
silence locked by actions past
a cold wind remains behind
echoing what came before

the world is changed in the death
the ending of memories.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180120.

Beauty haunts me with a twist
predilections defying grace
one embraced in the whole
the other sorted to impress
I'll speak to each in their turn
former being all loveliness
latter being less that this
in words that are oblique.

First the former, eros plain
holy land across the void
with the gap that I'll not cross
limitations are preset
all the curves delight my mind
each is splendid on its own
the vessel asks for no decrees
as if perfection blooms within.

The latter is the prison
one in which I am trapped
for too many years contrived
to live out life's falsehood
I'll thank the warden for comfort
vast reward in social gains
then anger spawns all too hot
seeing lack in opposite.

Perhaps that's why I resent
what I see in mirror's face
enemy seen more than friend
an inverse to wakened dreams
loveliness as the hint
pointer to the path I'd take
if the world could reverse
bring me the beauty I desire.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180118.

Look ten years beyond this place
do I exist to share that space
or did I bend to consequence?
one of us may not be here
though the reasons are not clear
I'll offer insight if I can

revelation will conspire
by the nature of the desire
to undo the ties that bind
too many numbers come to mind
one foot square or six feet down
each an end most would condemn

a voice inside whispers doubt
insisting that the answer rests
in easy exit to salve the grief
cutting short the epiphany
that life is too profound
for the journey is the fun

realization springs to mind
on the heels of these thoughts
dubious deal from the beyond
put aside, day at a time
persistence grasped to realize
sharing space with friends I love.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180117.

‘Everyone knows’ is the lie
Satan’s words echoed forth
from the mouths of loud pundits
and the dogma put down in books
surety is the dead end
when applied to all of man
in this realm the trap is set
for the souls who will not grow.

Ignorance is the sole boon
of the wise man seeking truth
in this gap they will find
the path beyond a lack of love
disabused of certitude
still they grasp more than most
there are those who revel in
a single point in span of faith.

They’ll believe the cruelest lies
issuing forth from their mouths
assurance given to the flock
seeking footing for beliefs
stamped in stone, this is assured
even as the sand crumbles
the finest dust becomes the page
sporting words that blow away.

You could ask me how I know this
beliefs that seem to appear
the same as what I condemn
this is my answer in retrospect
I’ve seen a world of that exists
more diverse than most could know
with purity of sureness held
distributed to God’s children.

The surest measure of their gift
is belief in themselves
without the need to harm the world
especially when thoughts diverge
‘everyone knows’ is only true
if it’s applied to heal world
holding each to find their way
in erudite enlightenment.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180115.

I once saw Holy in the woods
far above rest of life
with their trunks so near to hand
arboreal creatures reaching up

majestic crowns that challenge fate
an aberration that took my breath
trees so straight they broke the air
shattering sky like arrows shot

the shards rained down to the ground
amongst the scrub and bushes strewn
atop the bones of giants fell
by their age or nature’s curse

defiance of the lower realms
failed the fauna thought most blessed
when the rot consumes the corpse
they’re reduced by fallen grace

I relate to both these themes
seeing God and touching Hell
across the years of standing tall
the cycle turns for all kinds

I’ll exist the best I can
touching clouds of deity
while knowing feet are made of clay
baked by fire in furnace heat.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180114.

Most intend the arrow’s path
to fly true straight from the bow
with a goal in their sights
when the hand let goes the string
this is the plan in elder’s eyes
witnessed cross an era’s span
fetchers all across the years
spawning myths of targets hit.

Preference cast to normality
purpose planned at the release
fingers slip from the shaft
propelling life beyond their grasp
that’s where the intent ends
given to another life
with their fate to chose alone
missile finding where it should land.

The arrow flies through the air
launched from bow with fair intent
a catapult of fortune’s lot
where is the choice in where it lands?
this or the other, the targets span
spectrums spread across our lives
asking all to choose their lot
objective hit at flight’s outcome.

Self-acceptance is the key
perhaps not the same as penchants cast
acceptance of the providence
circumspection of the whole
foresight fails and life goes on
the purest love is for the self
no matter where the flight is ceased
an arrow’s path is heart revealed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180113.

Vespers spoke behind the veil
in a language none shall hear
intoned with a natural flair
honeyed words flit to my ear

I would ask who spoke aloud
syllables I'd dare not speak
except I know it was myself
chorus to the Almighty's bliss

vestments decked my other frame
one or another, they were changed
though the latter was preferred
a holy cassock of many hues

the quiet pride of my expression
was condoned by the phantoms
just as real as myself
yet immaterial within the fog

these invocations disturb my day
when memory trips back to sleep
asking nothing in return
but promising much in verity

beauty sought is mercy's gap
no longer harboring safe respite
as the holy is made clear
behind the veil of fancied dreams.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180112.

My prose evokes quite a range
of impressions beyond what's plain
to this poet scribbling lines
in an effort to share my mind

positions stated that I hold dear
sometimes fuzzy lest I *****
the kind readers that are not immersed
in the lifestyles that I embrace

I say gray instead of black
nuance flows between the lines
hinting more than what's said
clouds in face of the sun

meaning flows from the words
though the import may be blurred
when the view assumes a world
all too different from my own

even when the contrast pops
the evidence may fade to black
if the log blocks the sight
of the vision in which it’s lodged

I'll not lie to my dear friends
nor will I fib to a stranger's face
truth beyond words blurs in the mind
filtered by ego of a life time

the end result becomes a blur
life that's known but cannot be told
muttered in whispers by poet's brush
garbled as I seek to speak God's name

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180110.

She wore the shadow of life's travails
echo of a thousand days
I sought the source to no avail
until I realized it was herself

sourced from depths few could plumb
a silent cloak wrapped round her frame
with light within peeking out
starlight shown in deepest night

polite dispassion would turn away
why I did not, I cannot say
unless the answer is that I felt
the same phantoms within myself

silhouettes against the glare
recognition across the veil
lost in the crowd we did not share
shadows’ blur wrapped round our frames.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180111.

I dreamt I found an orange dress
tangerine, a pastel shade
that spoke to my yearning heart
'wear this beauty to present'
divinity put into cloth
Aphrodite would be proud
radiant color on display
panoply beyond compare.

The pleats were pure in flowing lines
from the shoulder to the hem
slits just right to show the flesh
this naughty slip that I adored
to have this garb became my goal
planning on how to conceal
where I could wait until a time
that I could wear to feel gorgeous.

You may ask of the disconnect
convention dashed in retrospect
of my gender and the gown
I'd dissuade you from that frown
the mind meanders in desire
revelation with no blame
allowing visions that are suppressed
in the waking beyond the veil.

To know the other side of life
revealing goals in safe space
I see beauty and wish to appease
the longing felt deep within
back to the dream, that secret place
into the closet this garment went
a secret vault for lovely clothes
collection worn in slumber’s folds.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180109.

We outsiders have our mold
the cage designed to hold us in
respectability defined to coerce
the differences felt inside
this is the start of the end
when our kin seeks to restrict
presentation made to the masses
that cares little for the least.

'Please fit the mold' became the chant
don't stray outside the lines
of being different, but only so
lest the norms take up arms
they hold the power from above
a careful truce has been arranged
diplomacy at the knife's sharp edge
at the cost of freedom's reign.

But we're lost, free ranging souls
blocked by fences made to console
those not of the flock who then seek
the life discovered when we're free
forbidden is never a consequence
when the chains are cast to the ground
then horizons may be sought
beyond templates of order's rules.

There is more, the realms are vast
perfection was never sought
instead it's there to balm the rest
those above divergent ones
acceptance comes at a great cost
towing lines applied to bind
I'll ask those who hold the ropes
forgive the rabble, remove our molds.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180108.

The seduction began at the dusk
then progressed as darkness fell
into the blackness, the journey led
with promise made I could not trust

the clouds have clashed against the sun
gray to black, they vow to stay
I seek a shelter against the storm
the rage that circles every day

temptation pledged an escape
dulcet murmurs in my ear
as the strength left my limbs
the voice spoke with honeyed bliss

“I will vanquish this always cycle
the never ending circle spent
in existing, that grind of life
to lay you down in calming arms”

“this retreat will be a void
entreating shade to fill your life
in a realm you’ll find yourself
beyond the pain in the bones”

narcotic call from the shoals
a calming voice in tempest eye
can I trust the siren’s call
when betrayal may occur?

the tempest may welcome me
at the exit of those dreams
forever raging, always there
escape forbidden by the gods

enticement made in bad faith
seduction wooing the battered soul
if only the peace would last
after darkness has had its time.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180107.

Take your cat and leave my sweater
it’s only because of the weather
this need to hold onto Christmas
even if the **** thing’s ugly
bedecked with Santa and his deer
sequins forming shiny *****
I’ll wash it till the hair has been removed
even if Rudolf will lose an eye.

One gives me hives while the other warms me
dander is my kryptonite
you knew that when you brought them
feline demon into my safe abode
‘it doesn’t shed’ was your mantra then
tears spring to eyes in response
not to the sorrow I remember well
but to the allergies I suffer from.

I don’t need to itch to know I adore you
welts the size of frozen peas
evacuate this pox of my life
allow me to keep my lovely wrap
festivities that I long to have
before the scratches ran with blood
holidays with festive songs
now muffled by the snot.

Take your cat and leave my sweater
my life will be warmer for the better
fur removed from my clothes
when loving cotton enfolds my heart
no longer snorting benadryl
I’ll find peace in our eternal love
now that I have cardigan
minus the pox of afflicting cat.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180107.

Try the wine, take a sip
thank you sir, (what is this?)
a good brand,  worthy ilk

perhaps a trap, this offer
red with pasta, (a good pair?)
with regret I’ll sup the vino

Try the wine, none for me
none for him, the muscle bound
my health excludes just a taste

cheers to you (with false charm)
I’ll check the color, it’s still red
then the smell, claret bouquet

Try the wine, indulge your thirst
while I speak about my wife
she’s gone away, no quite dead

badly *****, with assault
by the viscous hooligans
where you sitting with your glass

Try the wine, now I’m bound
to this chair, left for dead
while the flu took her life

I know better, the modern age
removed my dear from the stage
not Pneumonia, it was them

Try the wine, you sad victim
help is now on the way
phone taken to call some friends

(Alex considers to take leave)
forgive my trouble, I’ll depart
no, no my boy, no trouble at all.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171211.

The riddle stands the test of time
one or many will take their shot
with the former inadequate
to the task brought by God

spun from fabric most deny
feathers falling from the sky
weighing more than far mountains
the end results condemns despair

the solitary has little chance
to resolve mystery’s vex
stumbling in the details tossed
or consumed by the whole

insight may come to the one
then the shoulders take the weight
stooped against the universe
magnified in its full scope

back to the many that may help
lending hands to move the weight
when the hidden can be found
then lifted high as manifest

to embody the Lord’s task
challenge met then overcome
I’m a piece in puzzle’s face
solving riddles with the whole.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171210.

Perhaps the measure is the least
far beyond what’s felt inside
gauge divorced from insight
transferred to the outer realm

they care little for our health
refuge sought to ease the fear
boxes made to situate
what should be in their minds

first the needs of the whole
are considered as the stamp
of what should be exhibited
to a world that cares too much

while this leads to consequence
a chance of peace in this war
the wounds inflicted are much worse
now transparent to the world

yet the act must take to stage
lest the fists fly through space
or the words seek to wound
from cowardice of the heart

passing is the refuge sought
while the soul would like to fly
by expression to be seen
now hidden by the masks of life.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171209.

I’ve decided to avoid the fall
keep my feelings from that edge
lest I tumble, lose my way
again return to the abyss
where my sanity goes away
replaced by folly I’d embrace
focusing where I should not look
while the world wanders on.

A quick diversion would be nice
if only that were a choice
because to drop demands too much
there is no end to those depths
my contracts are all in place
like soldiers in long ranks
wanting nothing to upset
this careful balance to which I’m chained.

Distraction is the best end
sadly this is not the way
when the edge receives its due
with arms that wish far too much
laser focus on just one
that will complete a small life
that’s the mantra, it’s a lie
I’m OK without true love.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171208.

I meet the longed consequence
imagination of what cannot be
passion misplaced once again
reminding me I’m still alive

the molded clay betrays its source
imperfection raised to walk above
even while the passion awakes
reducing me to crave too much

perhaps I’ll forget what I feel
it’s no good you simple fool
memory fails as a refuge
to drive away the taint of lust

when the emotion is the primal drive
dictating what I’ll disregard
and what begs to be seen
though this damns eternal souls

they say this was meant to be
but now I will not procreate
ashes remain in the pit
not as dead as they should be

hot desire remains in the end
dispassionate calm swept aside
with one servant held to heart
reminding me I’m alive.

The demons live inside this house
where doom awaits at journey’s end
the past-life knocks on the door
with the hidden in shadow’s realm

what’s been done was once forgotten
the forsaken brought to the forward
though this is slow to been seen
the signposts etched by memory

now that the rug has been removed
proverbially stating what’s considered
as the future demands its due
from debris of scattered dreams

pain mixes with lessons learned
sorrow soil for future growth
from the seeds planted there
karma sprouts to fill the void

to transform or be reborn
this is the choice to absolve
lest the demons decide the course
bar the way, close the doors.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171206.

I’ll admit far too much
declarations put to the world
without the aid of priest’s invite

etched on paper with a pen
it’s the scribe I feel within
speaking volumes a voice cannot

the confessional is left empty
there I’ll not step within
when a poem may substitute

absolution may not follow
even while I state my ways
no holy gift will be bestowed

you may ask why I’m so brave
to trumpet sins all may hear
with dispensation not at hand

I’d accept the course is folly
worse that what piety offers
fast escape from purgatory

in the end the healing follows
led by statements put to prose
deep inside a soul that struggles

a little less with weigh lifted
put aside without religion
etched on paper with conviction.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171205.

Perhaps one day I’ll disconnect
deny the world its cruelest jest
asking me to stretch beyond
the quiet shell I seek to find

strong desire moves to direct
the heart that wants nothing more
than a peace from world's exchange
pain and bliss in equal parts

if torment's span is the price
to live a time in ecstasy
those who bend will soon break
find escape in pain's pledge

pleasure drains as fluids flow
extinguished in warm outcome
waiting for the check to drop
asking much in aftermath

what comes next is a gulf
with no needs for a short time
not the peace I truly want
instead the calm before the storm

disconnection escapes my grasp
when the clouds next gather round
promise of the falling rain
finding pleasure before the pain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171204.

I watch the wolves circling
keeping distance yet in sight
unkind guests beyond the veil
I have no tool to scare them off

feinted lunges warn of more
when I wake at the dawn
stalked apart from that place
where fantasy is all I have

once again the perilous
greets me in the halls of sleep
echoing that I may not escape
when light comes and I awake

hinting teeth that can bite
when a lunge may take my life
astral wounds that may extend
to the world outside of bed

I may rise before the end
hinted by sleep’s oracle
then wonder if the same awaits
in the realm of beyond the wolves

I shake illusion from my head
to hope it stays in those hells
for if it stalks into my world
this nightmare will consume the all.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171203.