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 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.

The doppelganger does exist
less than an inch from the skin
while at a distance that defines
a mirror set defying lies

without remorse of pleasantries
stacked upon the need to please
tearing down a false balm
constructed by safety’s calm

waiting for insanity
demanding dues of the will
impersonator that’s all too real
staking claims when strength wanes

this pressure keg that must reveal
the opposite of banal states
these humors ****** without regret
by opposites of the flesh.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190927.

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.

The wanting lingered without respite
an intruder that cared not
for the mercies of a staid life
away from the passions on my mind

borne on a wind of comeliness
though not a stunner by most concerned
the breath that stirred the fallen leaves
became the storm that leaves me weak

a total package at last glimpsed
the secret unfolding in due time
a bright flower I now observe
rare among the other blooms

if only more could see this belle
the glamour would beguile all
perhaps I’m biased on this point
struck by a spell in my heart

yet in my core I know I must
seek a path away from lust
still distraction rings the gong
it’s with regret that I stand strong

a sum of parts assails me still
though there is more to this tale
when the dream walks upright
the wanting burns without respite.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181119.

Look to the holy if you seek
disaster lurking beyond the meek
ruins extending from the doors
of temples created to the word

the myths would have them as the lords
advisers in the place of gods
instead the rooms are filled with screams
pronouncing edicts of mad dreams

the garden is set by mankind
an Eden cast in Hell’s light
where the fall is carried out
to standing crowds on every morn

without the angels to guard the gate
all may enter to find their way
beware the promises tricksters sell
of mansions glimpsed on distant hills

there is no paradise for the fools
squandering all for trinkets gained
when power is the truest god
nothing less will meet the mark

beware the maze that is the mind
turning roads into quagmire
the only exit is to dismiss
this quest for Kadath that leads to sin.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190421.

While the mirror may disregard
the image held in the heart
others are the paragons
of existence beyond this one
there is the irony few deny
the measure of the other side
now beholden as a god
while the  owner falls far short

each has a portion of the grail
perfection granted on the small scale
though some are bless with much more
even these know pure scorn
if we don’t deserve the grass
growing on the other side
the past is seen in contrast
to the present none desire

if only bodies could be switched
one for another in fair trade
those outer shells that walk about
taunting owners with their shroud
the exchange comes with a price
those natal quirks that may surprise
still the maladies are put aside
with sanity as the main prize

don’t laugh at the mortal fools
it is their lot to be confused
when the shell game of the gods
becomes the mold in aftermath
the mirrors state an honest truth
while devils laugh as if amused
because perfection lays beyond
in curses of the jealous mind.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190429.

I suffer in the perfect world
where the cogs turn easily
prompted by those who clearly state
how arrangements ought to be

clarity springs from dogma's mouth
handed out by wise men
then carried out by dedicates
exacting rightness at scourge's end

the whip will bite those who fail
held by those with holy grace
fallen souls that anoint
the thirsty ground longing more

the vicars point the pious way
down hallowed ways with no dust
oh so eager to convey
how my virtue may be saved

I’ll ignore their sly glee
a quick smile at misery
for these soldiers are sacrosanct
set on their mission by holy writ

declarations become my grave
to house my body six feet down
surety has been restored
with the blemish now removed

expel me from the perfect world
my blemishes are proof enough
if the glory will be mine
a quick end is justified.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180316.

A thousand lives are now reduced
the pulsing crowd is not pursued
in the blink of a jaundiced eye
a multitude is put aside
the field of dreams is now bare
fences fall in disrepair
no longer needed to protect
the trampled crops of years past

the kaleidoscope has ceased to turn
colors fade into the night
as dust descends to blind the mind
no longer will the mirrors shine
with patterns set upon cracked walls
taunting what had come before
when rainbows turn to shifting ash
the only motion that now survives

still the shadows are cast to hide
where the road may lead from night
mirrors smashed for their crimes
against the souls trapped behind
the visions meant for cloistered groups
projected upon the broken glass
don’t ask why this must occur
when a thousand lives are no more.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190425.

I am a prisoner of many words
these chains imagined by the muse
when I submit to sadist’s prompt
write another before the dawn
this how of how I face the world
weaponized to cast sly doubt
on my place amongst the tribe
a lone suspect of many crimes

deprecation is the gift
of those who whisper soul’s dark depths
exclaiming truths lost to most
with the tools of the bard
all these labels near at hand
I’ll accept them to explain
where I’ve been before the now
intentions stated for clarity

the greatest challenge is in the now
to justify who I am
putting blame where it may land
knowing much is on my head
as consequence the world my frown
wince at the reasons of my mind
the majority will extol
explications I must ignore

a few like souls will relate
the bravest seeing mirrored states
matches made across the years
still congruence helps to heal
they may share the same words
or the proof is in a nod
now the captive is set free
no longer separate as I scrawl.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180811.

Canyons filled with empty eyes
silent visionaries knowing all
while keeping secrets of their own
behind staid curtains of the soul

witness to the gods’ downfall
evicted while the cyclone roared
still the walls stood upright
monuments to the contrite

with no regard of what’s beyond
the void containing all the world
this empty echo that resonates
to the chords of sleeping beasts

damning all with vacant hearts
while keeping lairs in the dark
shutters hiding lurking mouths
desiring naught while seeing all.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190716.

Power asks for too much
based on acts of thoughtless youth
pushing boundaries then deplored
in the time present now ignored
this pinnacle may be accused
against the weight of the abuse

Satan pleads for justice ******
at the coming of a lost dawn
towers stand in the light
ignoring taunts that bring delight
angels cry in dark despair
to a future none should prepare

morality has no bearing here
when a life of power is embraced
nothing less than wins are blessed
with religion near at hand
a conscience that knows the past
denies the sins fully wiped

with forgiveness near at hand
the mighty fist will always win
the lesser *** unduly whines
forgetting glory handed down
power blessing base desires
to hold the measure of earthly pyres.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190918.

Desire for relief becomes a bane
to the health beyond the pain
when the angst has assumed
proportions past the natal wound

the remedy has long ceased
even as disaster builds
as byproducts are ignored
against the numbing of the balm

clearly sought to assuage
anguish found beyond the base
if only life was more than strife
self-medication would be denied

the impostor has been seen
still this path is pursued
gladly ****** with due shame
as false relief fills a frame

the curative has been bypassed
by transgressions to the flesh
embarked upon to find relief
from the ills beyond the pain.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190727.

One nation under all
founded for a single cause
this is the mantra that resides
in the minds of simple folk

this passion above all else
so say the pundits to themselves
the holy writ applied across
imaginations in the now

this becomes the fervent lie
by the ones who reside
in the boxes built with walls
from the delusion of the mind

uniformity becomes the joke
denying nature of its course
reality will have a say
disallowing the fever dream.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190809.

Welcome to the Hall of Gods
destination of all mankind
be your choice an ancient one
or the spirit freshly spun
both old and new have their shrines
one or may be pursued
of minted plastic credit cards
or dais stained with lamb’s blood

born on belief from high and low
some more noble than the next
with shine of light the former stands
contrasting with the stench of shame
the seeds of each wait to grow
in the other when soil is right
the day turns to night’s dire depths
none are holier than the rest

even when the void is worshiped
absence becomes the most profound
a focus on the lack of makers
creates a force greater than all the rest
the will is given in the end
sustaining outcome defined by need
creators invented to explain rebirth
destroyers evoked to end it all

power requires the eternal soul
borrowed for a time as collateral
against the quest to find substance
some meaning between the here and there
while kneeling at alters on bent knee
presenting alms to sway favor
by adoration or fear’s urge
welcoming balm of deity.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180704.

Fay angels hold to the heights
the guardians of God’s domain
have witnessed much across the years
above the realm of mortal men
assured of blessings from their god
while watching cars passing by
the bridge between two ends
transportation in best of times
a lovely perch for the Séraphin

this high juncture most ignore
no true stop for mortal men
lest they pause to contemplate
observe the cars in all their might
flying down the concrete stream
oblivious to spectator's gaze

at that bluff I find myself
hearing angels’ whispered songs
asking me to pause again
I rebuke their company
push them aside as I proceed
their input has no place
when the pit is in my mind
seeking depths beyond the pain
feet to fall and then no more
flying for a brief time
while angels hold to the heights.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180717.

The clouds have their day
to release what’s pent within
no longer able to hold the mask
of sunny days meant to last

the halcyon all pursue
a status quo for the abused
idyllic for the quick glimpse
when inquires seek portends

even as the coming storm
gathers round behind the smile
heavy with the unresolved
echoes of the saddest times

soon to drench the frowning crowds
scurrying to answer shelter’s prompt
away from those who can't escape
the overcast of sunless days.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190819.

I'm an answer seeking questions
end result you'd never guess
against the background of random chance
inside a box made from the past
now response begs for origins
something familiar when I'm the freak
no longer holding to the mold
exploding outward for all to see
the puzzle is scattered on the board
the box lid has been forever lost
perhaps God knows who I should be
what query would return my life.

The outcome is plain enough
though exploration still unwinds
in territory more frequented
by the youth less afraid
my generation walked the same paths
with few admitting that they did
in dark halls we whispered truths
while telling lies to a larger crowd
now the young strive in the light
revealing trails once concealed
kept from sight to most men
or only trod on by the brave.

Now I'm left with only claims
not sure how I came to be
or what purpose the divine
has for my continued life
meandering has brought me here
honesty grasped along the way
sharing more than perhaps I should
while unsure of the beginning quiz
perhaps you have the illusive query
something to wrap around these bits
scattered as a whole to represent
the person with more to share.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180314.

I dreamt I crossed the bridge
to arrive where I’d begun
gender matched as consequence
when the subject came to love

taking favors from the same
matching grace in the exchange
with no guilt or reticence
for the pleasure then possessed

embracing lovers from a place
of adoration some abhor
affection that came naturally
sadly discouraged by the whole

it mattered not behind the veil
where acceptance was assured
echoing what’s known inside
on the canvas of pleasured dreams.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190113.

The count is lost through the years
of the lives I’ve chose to live
this question matters in the least
when the versions are revealed

congruities of purpose split
among the paths I’ve gladly walked
differ widely by intent
while they merge to form the whole

each has a mask I take down
from its place on the wall
to revel in the task at hand
joy in pain and carnal bliss

this variety of pursuits
some controversial in themselves
others push against the grain
asserted by society

switching out identity
to suit the job near at hand
may confuse those who watch
the shifts required to exist

to reconcile what I must share
the count is lost in aftermath
disguises revel in themselves
the controversy I’ll accept.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190108.

If the ink were to dry
letters set for all time
and nobody saw the act
would it matter after all?
this audience of one
no more at day’s end

scribe and reader alternate
as the same experience
a separation of roles
blurred to one from the start
when nothing matters more
than transcribing from the heart

heights and depths are the same
invocations of the mundane
as the saint and sinner seek their own
in the form of unity
the ink will remain at the end
silent witness to the dismay

shreds of joy conjoining with
the stains that pass for life
now this drop stands alone
asking nothing from itself
except to know the relevance
of existence beyond the pen.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190325.

The decision is already made
now the minutes tick away
counting down until the time
arrives at last to end a life
the decades borrowed are returned
unfairly hoarded without reward
sorrow pressed absent love
now the bill will be resolved

separation becomes the norm
practice for the coming act
perfection found without regard
to the sorrows afterward
with the end at last in sight
the reaper will find delight
accepting offerings none should take
upon the altar of final shames.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190409.

The ice seems ten feet deep
in the midst of winter’s chill
with a promise all is well
before the cracks are revealed

the darkest depths await beneath
always there outside of sight
all too close if truth is known
regarding strength now foretold

scant inches are the mark
a lack of support now disguised
instead of thickness most enjoy
when striding about their lives

a truer measure of the heart
is the peril now close by
than impressions of the mask
denying all till aftermath

peril waits for the fall
dropping down into the depths
most often hidden from the view
from the ones that could console

when the cracks open up
support is lost in the end
that quiet doom near at hand
finally taking the innocent.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190528.

A journey does not stand alone
by a step or many miles
seeking goals with a twist
surprising those who quest an end

the mileage counted is a sham
for its worth in measurement
against the signs that infer
commonality between two men

the main path becomes a sham
as excursions are the rule
searching past the trampled path
still a journey of consequence

those small jaunt fulfill a need
to explore beyond the norm
at sunset the road will wait
with the journey to celebrate.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190913.

Do I need a lover to let me know
beauty is something I can claim?
one or more to tell me lies
while they ply my body’s prize?

a small measure of attractiveness
seems to escape my self-worth
asking more than it should
to fill the gaps between the cracks

validation of the outer self
contingent on what others think
becomes my search in the wild
a will-o-wisp I’ll never catch

always returning to the clutch
flesh to flesh as a grind
chasing dreams out of reach
when lovers are the measurement.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181212.

The ring is sought above all else
this seems the goal for our lot
clouding minds in the quest
for something fresh beyond the self
there’s no commitment except to now
the moment sought and then pursued

to the ends some may taunt
but even they would do the same
connection held as the goal
flesh pressed in response
more than attraction is in play
when the urge becomes a need

sewn throughout by the Lord
or put by nature to grow the herd
neither is of consequence
when base natures take the stage
the urge to merge tops the list
**** the final aftermath

perhaps the deities will relent
when they know the bill's been paid
the luster fades when attained
once to lead to many more
this hunger for the band
to find another once again.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190629.

Frankenstein was a master
I'm my own, it doesn't matter
when the parts of my whole
become a monster to the world
the brute exists at the peril
of innocents walking round me
little do they know their place
conjoined within my broken frame.

The outside scars are my frame
connecting tissue disparate
if I'm a work of macabre art
this mural's marked by tissue's grain
too many sources become the one
torn from the shadows near at hand
fiends or beasts are mirrored there
teasing madness from my brain.

If my mouth still had lips
perhaps the screams would be mine
a sharp response to the harm
blossoms fruit that I'll detest
as the knife cleaves the flesh
I'll add the new with ****** thread
a little's lost with no gain
my life diminishes with the pain.

These hands resign to their fates
right from left are ignorant
of what the other may conspire
to collude with spirit's bane
I'm Frankenstein borne anew
both the master and the brute
standing tall on borrowed time
seeking salve I now reject.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180403.

Revelation waits in the heart
perhaps once slumbering in the past
now perception has arrived
to ask too much from the now

stepping from the normative
boundaries meant to protect
come with too high a price
for the ones who compromise

identity of the true self
becomes indulgence of the mind
in the battle for safe domain
when passing was once safe

the world would like for the same
continuance of what came before
it could care less for the change
now required for sanity

passing becomes the option shorn
seen as the perfect lie
all said to true if a soul
allows the truth to be ignored

still revelation will have its day
the world be ****** in aftermath
when the reality is revealed
to the shock of verity.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190607.

Immortality is far removed
from existence for all souls
until that end joy requests
avenues of consequence

part of fullness is to express
the body folded in motion’s quest
with one intent full in mind
decision made to carry on

hours are frozen in response
the rest forgotten to celebrate
bodies join to live beyond
the count of time now denied

life will in end its due span
regardless of what all may try
the path to thrive has been found
with the capers of the divine.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190623.

To dance once a day is not enough
when the world presses down
asking more than its due
with a weight beyond truth
a short respite whets the taste
desiring more to life presents
grays to blacks are the norm
exclaiming whispers instead of howls

a thousand contracts with as many lies
demand attention outside of life
if the word may be applied
to the mire that it presents
the humdrum droning buzz
demands relief by playful means
just enough to draw the eye
away from boredom’s consequence

by the flesh or by the prance
each is a dance in itself
or perhaps by a craft
the many means to sway the heart
all these combine to satisfy
more than once soothes the pain
erases torment from in its path
piling on the passionate.

2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190216.

Was it worth it to persist
in a world prone to hate
when a span manifests
between the norm and deviance?

this is the question of the ages
the freak persists no matter what
judged peculiar for their ways
even though they’re genuine

the lack of reference is a source
familiarity lost in a rush
between surviving life’s travails
and opportunity to see the world

this is biased by the need
to hold with dogmas ages’ deep
reinforced by hoary texts
damning by the ancient words

one or the other is enough
to turn society against the one
asking them to double down
if completeness will be preserved

the answer to this puzzlement
seems contrary at first blush
presentation of a friend
a frequent face to contemplate

still the world will seek to hate
this is resisted by amity
experience shared with the one
finding worth to carry on.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181203.

A new low among the heights
a spiral returning into the mire
ever escaping gravity's pull
towards a crash upon the globe

even when the sun may shine
fill the expanse of the sky
the clouds blanket unseen earth
depths far from the warming orb

asking nothing but belief
that doom will return to compete
with belief of upward trends
tested by the cold malaise

all the reasons to resist
in culmination to exist
are put aside without hope
lest the highs take control.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191021.

Change a devil if you dare
remove their horns from the head
point to the heavens where you came from
this is the fantasy few will find

how many angels must attempt
the transformation of the bad
when the saviors are destroyed
stacked on high like cordwood?

a legion lost in this attempt
heaven is emptied in the attempt
still the devil asks for more
to serve the purpose that’s two fold

the truest sport absolves the pain
submission granted and then consumed
all for the chance that something will take
nudge the demon to accept wings

horns regrow while bodies bleed
a fiend suggesting salvation’s fruit
it’s a process that may succeed
supplicants feeding every need

look to the pile that results
all the past head ornaments
with room left for many more
while the devil waits to be saved.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181201.

Nervous as the day before
the same again without pause
I wonder why this should be
stumbling when confronting this
attraction's bliss at the least
or something more I can't admit

except to say that jealousy
impacts the image I may see
relating comes with conflict
of the feelings that make me mute
wishing to draw ever near
while running away in quiet fear

in the end I'll maintain
a safe distance to comprehend
what can’t be while the angst
steals me from relation’s game.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190314.

Different is as different does
separated from a choice
even as the critics state
options are clearly there

this illusion unjustly held
asking more than nature’s realm
can supply as consequence
of distinctions in lettered space

predilections stamped on souls
identity beyond the norm
this surety that’s not denied
by the span of days expired

kindness shown to the diverse
affirms a life of honesty
diverting from the tramped path
into realms where life is pride.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190711.

I'll take the uniform from the shelf
an image for the common crowd
one of many in the ranks
keeping step with the contracts
the same raiment is procured
from the closet in which I dwell

still the fit will suffice
if my true role is falsified
stating purpose with due resolve
with apparel on the frame
a disguise that few see through
when the pretense is pursued

this masquerade is portrayed
the desired set for the eye
spun from threads of fairy wings
just as real as mythic dreams
to lull the masses with the lie
keeping peace in rank and file.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190318.

To not exist frightens some
terrified of what's beyond
by the writ of dogma's word
or question mark more profound

as if demise is a doom
not the blessing of nature's grace
sympathetic to all men
wrapped in mysteries beyond insight

no prey is sought by the void
instead the rhythms seek their own
karma wed to cyclic storms
prompts alarm where none is meant

all will fall between the cracks
when the surface is meant to split
time is measured by those who stay
before the cleft expands once more

if our fates were prolonged
beyond the time breaths bequeath
that peace found outside of strife
would escape the tortured souls

madness tips the scales to view
by the wisdom's virtue or sadder means
comfort found in what most may fear
mysteries explored by journeying forth.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180911.

Big waves on little rocks
one or the other describes my lot
blessed to bury pain’s delight
or hold against the pressing flood

each has a time beyond the shade
cast by shelter on longer shared
as the storm is clearly sought
to experience what’s beyond

lost from sight in the gale
connection becomes the substitute
denominator in tempest’s span
asking more than most expect

diamond hardness now regaled
against the give of soft downpours
both the large and the small
now push the sufferings out of bounds.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190625.

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.

I stare into the silent glass
puzzled by the scene present
echoes of sad humor found
on the wall before my face

reality is conviction shared
with impressions floating there
some are shared by the group
others visible to only one

boundary stopping more than life
the touches beyond who I am
flesh to flesh will not be
when the pane is unkind

the hues evoke emotion’s child
with the highs and the lows
darkest blacks and bleakest grays
stand aside with rainbow’s span

portal to the other realms
one inside the mortal flesh
another framed to reveal
workings of an outer world

imperfect copy sadly mocks
cold and flat is all I feel
images that may have depth
facsimile is the mimic’s laugh.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170903.

Visions are made from memories
cast unbidden to consider
what will bubble from the depths
informing goals through history

echoes evoked in night’s dreams
behind the walls that none see
except for the witness asked to view
testament stated to relive

reminding the future of what may be
based of reveries of past days
what’s now lapsed will return
asking the dated to be reborn

the karmic asking for its due
chimera born of old and new
a destiny stated in fantasy
now the future will reminisce.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180908.

When hate is reserved for the one
most removed from serpent's tongue
strong concern may be felt
for the events that won't end well

if the world was not askew
the voice will hold fair latitude
for the speaker of the same
and not proclaim the opposite

consider that the self should love
show forbearance for the one
linked across the whole of life
asked to flourish despite of strife

instead a doom comes with grief
sourced from malice felt within
an enmity that must deny
humanity sprung from the divine.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190719.

Reflections echo from the street
transient wishes at last seen
before the lost are returned
to the realms of tempest spun

caught against windowed glass
matrix of a thousand fears
this history that came before
asking nothing while giving more

ghosts walking in the haze
immaterial to comfort’s gaze
perhaps the angst will forgive
revenants that seek egress

only leaving the passing trace
when returning to empty graves
these images that few admit
mirrored remnants of happiness.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190715.

A friendship made beyond the veil
that curtain draped on rods of sleep
where no others than my self
may view the beauty then enjoyed

the void brings companionship
an irony that nothingness is the source
for a sharing that I'll not regret
even as guilt still finds its place

more than touch was implied
familiarity shared without reserve
I wish I could remember more
these recollections beyond the norm

this fellowship I’ll not soon forget
never to be seen beyond the night
it's still enough to write this poem
instruct my pen to dream again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181116.

I ask too much of the world
for the truth to be revealed
kept on the surface for me to see

instead it hides down below
waiting to bite as serpents would
from the box that hides their kind

if only I could be ignorant
not knowing the darkness laid within
how life's companions may attack

to see this creature underneath
robs me of my ease of mind
creates defenses I can't take down

now the world has been transformed
the surface is not my friend
when I know soul’s dark content

as they believe they’re concealed
submerged beneath their disguise
I’ll not fall for the deceit.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171120.

The clay has set to **** the one
wanting something beyond their form
now that time has set the frame
with assurance of no change

except for aging that betrays
desires lost in beauty's maze
looking at the warped glass
mirrors stating the opposite

perhaps a chance once thrived
to portray the paradigm
even this is held to doubt
lost in decades far behind

now the clay is only fit
to be ground by the fist
reduced to dust as nature asks
aberrations to step aside.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191022.

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.

Gender flows from a source
a sacred premise sometimes flawed
still the whole relies upon
these qualities to state the world

asking some to twist their selves
for the comfort of the whole
seeking forms that fit staid molds
constructed by the status quo

blue or pink for each side
align with bits of body parts
stamped on the consciousness
as anatomy has its say

usurping nature deep inside
peeping out in inner thoughts
prompting those who disagree
to fight the fixed society

the binary is a start
there are some who mix the two
or disavow a single bond
these expressions are allowed

more often the lanes are crossed
to find a truth that coincides
with a nature beyond the flesh
that forms the body felt incomplete

this is compared to those who veer
to the side that is their truth
gender flowing to be resolved
with touch of lace or something else.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190126.

Voyeurs come in many stripes
standing at the edge of light
peering from the depths of shame
knowing where to place the blame

scripture written on the self
lifted from the holy books
skin absorbs the greater truth
without regard for consequence

spoken clearly behind the mask
worn to **** the realm of doubt
becomes the journey of the mind
slick with tears from the beyond

the steps are taken down the path
away from orbs of calm insight
remaining while world retreats
****** of the private grief.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190919.

The end will come very soon
steal the beloved left behind
after fools have expired
sealing doom in aftermath

a fate none seek is ensured
by the lack of a pressing cure
when medicine is put aside
by the infirm who will die

before the worse comes to pass
leaving nothing then to last
sweeping all from the earth
reduced to beasts as a curse

still the fools have their day
staking comfort in the blink
living large in twilight years
before a hell descends to earth.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190926.