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.

I thought I had seen it all
beauty expressed in its full
yet there I saw a pinnacle
not attained in the before

my breath escaped my throat
as if I'd stepped outside
from the contented path
to the idea of perfection

the eyes tracked to observe
what I could only look upon
as fate was in collaboration
with Cupid arrow's spiked

it mattered not what was taken
obsession came before all that
if only for a moment's breadth
I witnessed splendor's highest mark

now I return to the tried and true
with observation of normality
I'll not risk all I have
for the glimpse of excellence.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170928.

The years are absent from my world
taken harshly by my foe
though survived, because I’m here
they are gone from memory

ruins stand where I was
remnants standing against the tide
these I honor for what they are
a trailing path behind my back

there are the voids in the years
the wheel has turned, that’s it way
months to years, then decades
all that time my spirit strayed

back to the foe, the bold brigand
slinking through the long shadows
removing what was his to give
from the board of life’s bequests.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170606.

By dream or dance I’m released
from a curse of hating self
dysmorphia lurking in the mind
escaped in sleep or by jig

either is a welcome break
there is no judgment that I face
from the self with decree
that shame is due in figure’s wake

in one world I’m beyond
the mortal coil of waking life
with the angles all too cruel
aped in mirrors I despise

the illusion denies my age
suspended in amber vision
denying what came before
perception’s verdict oh so kind

the other realm is movement’s grace
belying size or corporal space
when the joy envelops me
stepping light with music’s tune

motion blinds the critical
only seeing spin and pass
across the body, turn of foot
exquisite distraction I adore

one or the other is what I seek
relief from voices that only jeer
mocking form, derisive vents
numbing by the volume spent

these I’ll put behind me when
I sleep or dance at last blind
to the taunts I can’t abide
by dream or dance I’m released.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171111.

When the fun has run its course
I’ve plumbed the depths, come up short
seeking more than I should have
in the realms where I’ve played

appetite was front and center
once appeased, but no longer
craving lust more than reason
hunger as its own reward

autopilot for the sinner
helmsman of the darkness realms
pointing to the paths unwinding
beyond the realm of angels’ sight

promising all and nothing more
the cup is hidden from the drinker
was it empty before I sipped
or did I drain the decadence?

the passenger sits in the back
they are me with inclination
to explore where passion ends
the greatest trap of the seeker

now I’ve returned to the start
more desirous than before
taken there with no regrets
except to depart, to roam again.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170824.

Threads connect beyond the shade
the domain where memories fade
lost as a price for the chance
to bind what will forever last

one lifetime is not enough
to explore the high and low
when the bonds justify
exchange of wrong and right

to find the linkage to explain
somewhere past the present day
look to the Moirai that allot
the varied spans from birth to death

from the spindle to the slash
friends and enemies have a place
the end result is a tapestry
the weave of destiny still unseen.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191227.

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

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

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

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

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

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

When my words relate despair
a scratching pen stating woe
it’s no wonder that people turn
avert their eyes from lack of joy
I wish this were not the case
a happy world asks for more
just know that sadness has a worth
madness cloaking healing touch.

Sometimes life is full of walls
erected high, the stuff of lies
whispering deceit to our ears
that trials of life are solitaire
into this my words intrude
stating loud of hardship shared
participation is the norm
to common ills we all endure.

The other balm affirms my life
when thirst for doom is allayed
the chronic need is satisfied
to end it all, remove the hurt
by turn of letters,  a poet’s cure
the muse's license removes stigma
in that space I can relate
of life's struggles felt inside.

Drama is not my base intent
though the words may relate
to the matters in my life
of life and death, moving forth
railing against life’s restraints
both in my life and outward felt
combining to crush a soul
that’s what I share, the brunt of it.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170707.

I’ll write a confession
scratch the words with a pen
declarations I’ll preface
with disclosure of what I mean

from the realm of privacy
once put to ears of the divine
clerics no longer bear witness
to the life I choose to share

honesty from the bleeding edge
these admissions may seem radical
I’ll lie no longer to protect
the image projected upon the world

perhaps I’ll apologize
penance for the thoughts I have
with these statements I’ll exit
reducing stress by contrition’s breath

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170627.

If I were to list my top regret
it would point at myself
denouncing change that came too slow
by the speed and not the flow
while the seconds are cast away
the layers ask to be displayed

with quaint reference to comfort’s angst
deference is given to the mewling tongue
while determining identity
some parts were clear to see
hidden in the rapt desires
always there to speak its mind

that internal voice is locked away
announcing volumes only one will hear
while the world is ignorant
of this flow that souls dictate
cooperating with gender’s taunt
the outward kept in still detente

an arrangement that most approve
as the past becomes a lie
the shell seems to carry on
as the core is left to die
on the altar of frozen time
these choices become sorrow's life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190426.

Is it natural to want to hurt
toxic aims held to heart
planning harm at future’s time?
this pondering is for other ones
kin supposed to care for you
though actions say otherwise

in this place the dread is real
the belt or stick is near at hand
at any time the fist may fly
the not knowing is the worse
expectation of future’s realm
that drains the spirit in the now

others only see the mask
nice for a time to trick the rube
the intent is to confuse
this false journey to the norm
is life’s sad laugh from a god
allowing pain to find a child

anxiety becomes a lifestyle
a full time job with no pay
helplessness against the wrong
imbuing illness to accept
or promote the same within the self
this natural is the Devil’s gain.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170708.

Flowing water into forest pool
shall I rest here or continue on?
waterfall white, glistening rocks
asking me to lay aside the shoals

I shall shed my human cover
dive in the pool to find its gifts
cast the world to the ground
explore this place deep in the woods

soft sand squishing, warm sun shining
wet water flowing, round stones topping
all these simple pleasures reach
holding me in their rapt embrace

if only time could hold its hands
I’d never depart, take up my load
from this way point few may find
the salve of my soul, cascade’s delight

now I must leave this forest pool
take up my burdens, seek the world
leave this blessed forest place
though I’ll return again one day.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170430.

When the nails scrape the board
screams only I can hear
I'd like to leave
get off this ride
laughter is the Devil's wail
unholy glee fail, misery's chant
set to **** me when I ask
why is this to my ears?

Then my sight betrays my heart
what could be dear is only dust
a swirl that mocks beauty's chance
to convince me of its relevance
perhaps the near tears in my eyes
moisture waiting to break free
clouds my sight, blocks my view
of creation not from Hell.

The cruelest jest is of touch
I'd best go if all that waits
is temporary, teasing curse
not meant to linger where it counts
while I don't ask for the perv
abomination in the flesh
I'd still like to know the earth
touchstone for this soul distressed.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170425.

Will-o-wisps are living’s bane
the bright lights that promise much
an escape from the pain
in the swamp beyond safe paths
when clearest road is overgrown
with cruel brambles none may see
except the one who always bleeds
seeking something beyond that way.

The flickering orb is always there
though the hills may block the eye
and the trees mask the fire
held by revenants of misdeed
a respite is wonderful
no star of doom seen in the moor
then the rays return in force
whispering words of dooming hope.

Bearings are already lost
set adrift by mind’s turmoil
sanity slipped from its leash
when chasing imps seems prudent
the shame seeks to meet its own
despair contained will break loose
running from the light of day
to find the trace of false aid.

Baptism in the darkest pools
washing anguish from the soul
this is the promise of the flame
quick to shine before it kills
the will-o-wisp becomes a pal
an ally none should befriend
when the road becomes a path
then to despair, lured to death.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170925.

The sky was clear far above
no cloud to mar the face of God
still the moisture trickles down
hinting presence of a frown

from the corner the wet side
glistening in the morning light
the other orb stands resolute
denying emotion held inside

if disclosure is fully made
based on moisture from one eye
the truth is greater than a lie
presented on the dry side

yet still the sky has no shade
echoed on one half a face
resolute to hold the line
while hopes and dreams slowly die.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191025.

The one who is the ocean
or was by my memories
the breadth I loved to walk aside
or drown in sum ecstasy

the former I lived by the day
proximity to the surf’s invite
fury in the rush to the shore
submission in foam’s withdrawal

the latter was only in my dreams
submersion leading to bliss
the gateway was sleep’s restraint
with shadows as residents

there everything is a shade
be the dream in moon or sun
the shine of sun does not aid
when outcomes are the same

I awake from the visions
as the waves touch my feet
horizon calls, sand to ground
part of my life, then and now.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170422.

Success rang in with the dawn
another chance to make the art
reveal myself in quest for love
so I may feel the same within
my waking dream began with words
spun from thoughts I’d like to share
the good and bad, the in-between
the outcome spans my world.

From activism to joy's refrain
offered for the reader’s view
spun together in facsimile
of the success I'd like to see
the achievement would manifest
if a set of eyes considers there
the offerings from a soul desiring
connection beyond their mortal coil.

I spoke of love in the first refrain
to this subject I'll return again
through this art I catch a glimpse
the mirrors reflected in readers' gaze
at the alter of my poems
response will vary by reference there
still I'll take in the passion sent
back to the writer, scribe's accomplishment.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170509.

To fully fly would be a joy
leave this earth where I’m stuck
elevation by any means
becomes the greatest of all needs
this fondest wish is distressed
by the pull of nervousness
that pain is all that I’ll receive
firmly tied to sad dreams

the many snares of the self
taunts of worth that demean
one or another is enough
to reduce the strong as consequence
now multiplying in delight
a thousand cackles I’ll deny
finding strength to overcome
chains evoked from cold resolve

compounded by winds of time
a tempest asking far too much
if only life did not conspire
as the breeze becomes a storm
denying youth even as
pain is gifted to body’s span
as the memories are tossed about
in the cyclone of inner doubt

to those ends the sky awaits
by helpful drugs or risque ways
put aside the judging looks
when sanity finds a relief
both deliver for a time
supplying wings to lift clay feet
before the earth reclaims the one
that escapes to fly above.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190529.

A month exists to celebrate
those outside the normative
that blanket state of the mob
ill informed of the rest of us

ignorance spun to hate
the reptile speaking for the heart
it’s no wonder that the oppressed
have decided to rebel

too long put aside as broke
now stepping up to shake their fists
this multitude of like minds
asking more than hostile shrift

look to the rainbow to realize
diversity of the crowd
joined by needs to exist
against a storm of centuries

each as real as the next
beneath the tent of lettered names
asking all to stand alone
while supporting the sum of all

it’s no wonder some conflict
with the breadth of difference
there’s still more love than most admit
in this month we’ll celebrate.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190531.

Those three words still left mute
in the face of other truths
that sentiment now replaced
by the breadth of other ways
consider patience in three steps
each important in itself
leading love to be found
in the links between all

first the instance of the blush
put to cheeks in response
to the warmth springing forth
that promise made on a whim
echoing fondness in heart
for another equally blessed
mirrored in color’s bloom
rose to mark the rising sun

followed by the seeking grasp
tentative in caution’s stead
contact fragile as the snow
hands desiring ardour’s prize
mutually seeking more than less
that promise made in face of fear
when the fire must be seized
before chapter changes page

the final phrases are obscured
by a lingering that transcends
time shared that’s routine
walking paths to share space
then three words are disclosed
no longer held on the tongue
when the way has been cleared
for ‘I love you’ to be exclaimed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180921.

Looking back at who I was
behind the direction I’ve maintain
there was a time when I asked where
I’d end up in the now
once I was a younger man
wondering what my purpose was
when the future stretched beyond
the curve my eyes could see.

Which path would I walk
asking guidance to show the way
senior minds turned to view
beyond the veil of youth’s domain
I also asked the oracles
full of intuition's gifts
wise insights were their thing
when they saw more than common man.

These, and more, were not enough
the future was a game of chance
veering towards the probable
then away at fate’s quick whim
as the years clicked away
the answers had little weight
as the past piled behind
the traveler pressed to move on.

Beyond horizon of the day
valleys traveled in dusk’s gloom
the night hides more than it shows
while the mind seeks future’s light
in due time the journey wound
until the rover found his home
with the goal met head on
still I ask where I may go.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171012.

An audience of only one
views the feelings pouring forth
no longer filtered to repress
sentiments slumbering to awake
the emotions never truly die
instead they merely wait to state
about the truth contained in each
revealed behind the wall of sleep

society has a harsh regard
for the lives of other men
trotting out the fables spun
suppressing clarity found within
this only works in wakeful hours
condemnation fades away
when the onlookers exist within
watchers damning canon’s taint

subject to discovery
these denizens explaining all
placement with identity
while confirming latent depths
then rebirth becomes the norm
awareness stole from hateful scorn
emotions are the treasure found
stating more than waking knows.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180706.

This is not the companion I would choose
but it's the one that I'm chained to
by virtue of unwanted injuries
now held close in sour memories

the causes are lost in the halls of time
forgotten by those who did the worse harm
sum of wrath now so much larger than
what others witnessed have come before

fury expressed in the unbidden snarl
with a twitch from the responding eye
I become an animal in temper’s grip
last human visage stripped by the rage

they would say that flesh’s nature was the failing
the past tilting the scales towards the worse
so many fingers influence the chafe
prodding madness from Azathoth’s dark flute

the demons may find joy in this circumstance
while angels weep waterfalls at the lost love
bystanders to the greatest blunder made by man
anger walking too close by my side.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170619.

Pardon me while I bend
not to the world with its rules
instead I twist to find myself
providing contrast to the norm

take a pinch of spicy jest
seasoned by the many years
flavor spun to satisfy
if appetite accepts my flair

perhaps I’m bent, the ***** one
until I’m seen with my comrades
they are bookends to my itch
to express impure thoughts

not a scoundrel as some contend
instead a trickster, child at heart
only a charlatan to myself
I’ll not trick the common man

now I’ll bend the knee to show
contriteness for my revelry
until I remember why it’s so
I strive to live beyond the fold.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171024.

I could gauge beauty by a look
by camera's eye or my orb
seeking the surface that dictates
loveliness lying beneath the face

this would be fraught, a fool's errand
if confusion with 'pretty' is at stake
one for the other, not the same
still I may struggle in crave's grip

attraction may call to my heart
pull at the strings confused with love
adoration tainted by a thirst
to possess what I've observed

I'm at that mercy of base urges
sadly this is lust's betrayal
recognized for longing’s greed
passion begging for due recourse

yet even then I hear a voice
perhaps it's an angel the shoulder
warning me from a fallen path
even as glamor struts about

'stand down good sir, that is wrong
a fondness for looks is not the same
as beauty insured by loving's gift
so much better than just good looks’.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171030.

Why do I write?
it's better asked
why do I breathe?
when I could submit
to life's travails
the thousand slights

doubting words
inside my head
while the reprieves
are too brief
spanning gaps
between the pain
or should say
existing's game
I'm asked to play
pass the time
moving the pieces
across the board

a daily pursuit
paused to consider
thoughts put to page
hoping they are seen
by the travelers
of like design
also scribbling
in their own blood.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 2017030.

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 was not born this way
so say the judges who critique
the ways of right and wrong alike
not knowing why I am myself

perhaps they’re right in their speech
with all these masks I present
reckoning substance from intent
when shall I strive to show myself?

this path has timing I’ll present
to make straight the twisted ways
unwind the riddle that I present
by living here in your midst

far too early would be brash
not understand by the rest
when the paint is still fresh
comes the leader with none to follow

the muse asks the out reach
to be the moment it was meant
insight given to consider
mediating what must come

we were born to find our way
asked to drop the masks still worn
I’ll do my part with timing’s cure
evoking insight to those still lost.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170716.

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.

I heard them cry on their knees
as song to state earthly goals
asking for a set outcome
be it base or sacrosanct
the exalted saw the rugged cross
high up on the hill top
the others rode the prancing horse
with equal fervor of the first.

Those in song were supplicants
abiding by emotion's draw
the writer shared this through tune
now I'm captive to his muse
adoration is both their kink
one for God, the other crotch
spanning both the high and low
yet fair verse does not judge.

Stanzas express a burning need
so my ears are thus informed
emotion becomes the only path
drawn along the singer's voice
bless the muse for these goals
artistry beyond the pale
with music as the catalyst
I'll be torn to listen more.

Now my shoulders are a perch
imp and angel on each one
keen to sway my reeling mind
to their side, the right kind
though I suspect, I'll say this
that a tune will tap my foot
and if I like the end result
I will listen to both of them.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170526.

Ruin found in beauty's place
in the garden, the serpent's struck
the goddess brought down to earth
by the doubt welling in the mind

recrimination of the inner self
anxiety given word of truth
warping visions of the eyes
corrupting thoughts, the bitter lies

emotions turned on the self
creating caricatures of inner health
monsters not fit for the light
these run free to wound the heart

the past cuts have yet to heal
they still bleed with life’s duress
body-image comes in last
when testimony is ruins self

Venus tearing herself apart
as my tears drop to the ground
cursing serpents for their plan
the pain of beauty is too much.  

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170724.

The face of beauty is not denied
a vision present to my eyes
I stand the captive to the view
with scant promise lest I smile
the beating heart whispered there
knowing much while being mute
nodding to the furtive eyes
that skew away from lustful thoughts

perhaps the imps will forgive
what the angels would decry
knowing that I am laid low
to seek beyond is folly’s goal
in my sight they stand alone
creation’s height on pillar’s font
much like Venus from the sea
with a promise I’d like to keep

these oaths are made by other folks
pledged on lives not yet revoked
the balance shows on my account
not enough to claim a goal
I truly wish I could dance
in celebration of their lives
this I leave to other souls
to live the dreams beyond my hopes

what they miss is what I’ll grasp
learning more than common man
about the object that fascinates
the face of beauty to contemplate
forever distant while being close
by comely sights and nattered chat
they are a boon I’ll not deny
when the face imbues my life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190210.

A ruby rose describes you well
beauty blessed with leaves of green
icon that once defined kings
now a lure for paramours

from the base you were plucked
brought on stage to stand alone
suitors passed then interest waned
when they viewed the consequence

the stem embraced draws fresh blood
in sacrifice to love’s urge
Venus offers devotion’s pain
hope in league with ache of heart

now embedded, the pain may end
no guarantee is made for this
embedded spikes become the norm
crimson cues of loyalty

I’m attached to ruby rose
brought together by barbs shared
once engaged I’ll bend my knee
add my blood to hues of red.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170921.

Somewhere I lost a day
twenty-four hours went away
this I knew when I awoke
and the time had been revoked
fast-forward to the now
with whiplash in full effect
by a skip of in-between
in the realm of consciousness

tomorrow has been replaced
without remembering yesterday
the memory empty as a void
where the experiences were explored
those hours are now gone
stolen by the thief I’ll absolve
my mind was the fiend
leaving me now betrayed

I’ll continue to move forward
knowing tomorrows are one short
hoping the rest will arrive
and not repeat the day that lied.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190211.

Survival's been put aside
no longer a pressing cause
still I carry forth
existing in this world

for some it’s a harsh lust
driving every thought
ranked above love itself
focus of the life embraced

instead distraction has it’s place
by dance or music’s charm
spinning a glamour’s space
dedicated to confusion’s game

as does duty’s grind
holding me to account
dominoes lined in rows
waiting to be tossed to earth

all are poor substitutes
absent of God’s pure grace
stability lost with rudder gone
drifting towards the rocky shoals

in the face of pleading love
life’s endurance becomes that
survival is the chore
the relic no longer grasped.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171010.

Stairs evoked are the norm
anticipated when souls explore
a common sight that deceives
when the veil is not perceived

inclines lead to other realms
with the last in the beyond
a path of safety put aside
when the leap is in the mind

leading up or plunging down
each direction demands a turn
the willingness to commit
to destinations few admit

archways in the midst
of emptiness at top of steps
ruins pretending to be plain
hiding realms at staircase ends.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191105.

Beauty is life’s will-o-wisp
luring many to their doom
or distraction at the least
from the path of consequence
it has a purpose, that’s for sure
copulation to survive
as a race that still depends
on two to make the little babe
still the gods would advise
walk away from comeliness
once the goals have been birthed
because the rest will drive you mad.

Society feeds the half-lie
a never ending cavalcade
conveyor belt that’s always fed
with succulent that then decays
what came before was enough
only in the moment’s blush
then fading to be replaced
by fresh meat, union’s call
presented by the tycoons
wanting more than sanity
dollars piled in tall stacks
by libidos they have fanned.

The seduction is complete
I’ve walked into the dire swamp
where once I was far too young
blind to the paths that promised all
now I sense where I stand
it’s to late to reap rewards
though I doubt if I could
back in the day, the past years
even then the beauty stirred
just as now, my present life
in the marsh beyond the course
destruction lures a mortal soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171015.

To sketch or paint is enough
when a call is in the heart
to put on page the innerspace
inspired by feelings of the day

the groove is found in the ink
expressed for sake of artistry
crafting substance from nothing
by drawn lines and paint’s tint

a scratch of pen is the start
marker’s swath with a line
boundaries set by the mind
blueprint of what’s to come

blending lines into swirls
simple structures built upon
depictions hinted in outline
a picture forming by design

overlapping towards the goal
expressing God in our sight
by the virtue of a blueprint
illustration of the dream

building worlds all may see
ambition authored by a pen
or the pigments of a brush
to sketch or paint is enough.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171013.

Don’t you hush when words are there
awaiting voice, a place to share
to like ones to be affirmed
by the wounds they will be known

discovery yields blessed insight
to life’s full scope under strife
by existence much like their own
the lowest strive to still survive

the blows of fate will soon come
when circumstance is unkind
the sun will shine, the rain will fall
commonality in public eye

the bruising egos and wounding flesh
distributed to mortal souls
are not the venue of one group
when the pen scratches page

these instructions denote the fall
brought out of shadows on poet’s thoughts
perhaps it’s best to concede
when on knees the lesson comes

escape is found in the phrase
a load distributed is less held
then considered to be normal
within the breadth of God’s domain

a choice made to take the plunge
comments penned are my own
escape is found in the phrase
release of poison or of praise

no longer festering in the dark
when light of phrase shows the way
do your part to stake your place
with a voice to share the words.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170924.

In the space of small
mere inches wide
lay beauty’s face
in portrait’s frame

with likeness true
copy imbued
with love’s imprint
last image’s grief

diminutive
the final likeness
not my love
forger’s lament

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170504.

Solace waits in solitude
seclusion spawning quiet balm
without loneliness that most confuse
with the absence of chatter’s tongue

perhaps the babble has a place
in the span of life’s charade
still a peace is clearly sought
to find safe harbor from the lot

if only pundits did not implore
filling space with their discord
embracing conflict without regard
for the victims of their careless harm

strident statements across the gap
separating friends from foe
this sad illusion of the need
to win by yelling with deceit

an escape will lead to realms
where the mute are resident
each in their own calm abode
without input from the crowd

a humble salve without effort
this silent measure at last found
now a hush fills the void
forever voiceless in its joy.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190603.

Normality is the golden grail
promise of a thousand smiles
if I stoop beneath the bar
bend to fit within their mold
they only ask me to embrace
dogma dipped in history
rooted to the cold bedrock
beneath of the warmth of decency.

What's come before is all there is
sanity within their jail
this is the promise made to all
(those outside need not apply)
stick with the like no matter what
purity is the highest goal
with skin color as the test
of whether worth will be beget.

Punch the clock every day
hold down a job to make my way
all that don't are only dregs
living off the common man
holding on to holy dollar
what’s been made is only ours
don’t give it out to others
this is the measure of virtue’s end.

Sing the hymns in unison
lit by windows with color's hues
one true faith all must adore
else be a heathen outside the lord
love only those that do conform
with opposites defining love
the same is seen as greatest sin
abomination that all condemn.

Act your age, your decade's stamp
putting down youth's play toys
to find the somber in all things
content to die before your death
you may ask how this is known
that these are norms they promote
the answer seems to be too sad
the loudest voices are most correct.

Now I know how I should live
though self-hate would be the theme
cloaked in the veil of being one
with a world as the hostile place
considering how they see
the breadth of what could be
I’ll pass on that normal stint
instead walk as an aberrant.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170821.

My companion is now a box
a cast of thousand I adore
sight and sound found within
meaning more than meeting live

by the virtue of the internet
the connection will never cease
even when I’m all solitary
rarely seeing another being

except by pixels on the screen
arranged in joy or sorrow’s bent
pretending to emulate
the genuine of face to face

this companion I’ll never leave
unless the signal no longer flows
flashing light on the box
then I’ll cry in loneliness.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181209.

If the mystery were removed
drapes pulled back to show the sun?
a revelation on the other side
of promise made by lust’s dreams

that hunger sourced from the hidden
imagination feeding vision veiled
behind protection of the sacred
it’s for the best if you consider

would attraction retain it’s pull
when the portend has been killed?
those gentle hints of what may be
cast aside by wantonness

with results the seen as before
revelation echoes a bitter laugh
in a hundred other vistas viewed
the breadth is seen once again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181213.

The Architect speaks my life
with Neo as reason's voice
a dialogue that never ends
within the contours of my mind

I'd like to walk away
leave the world to my back
all the messy relationships
cruel constructs in my days

Neo said I won’t let it happen
if I wanted to survive
essential to prosperity
human beings are so linked

these words echoed in my mind
as the pain consumed my soul
frustration at the plan
'life's not fair' when I asked why

The Architect had it right
there are levels I'll accept
if survival is the end game
I would then disappear

yet from the jury I hear the cries
peers who care more than they should
asking for me to please see
there is love beyond the misery

The Architect has the final words
hope is a delusion of human kind
while it’s strength in the storm
it’s also misery when I am frail

the conflict wages on
a choice to make, to play or run
will Neo link me to the world
or will The Architect rule my life?

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170519.

I choose to escape with stroke of the pen
put emotions to page to make them flee
welcome respite in a moment’s breadth
boon of my daily pursuit of verse

writing brings out the strongly felt
extracting my soul for all to see
this is what I’d like to remit
asking the muse to heal the inside

extracting the ill along with the best
former is sought as a blessed goal
the latter a bonus for kind readers
who witness relief of my distress

you may ask what is the catch
with enough poems I should be well
or at least purged of angst felt in the gut
if only this were how it would be

I may cast my pain to the wind
taken aloft on gust of the breeze
yet the next day I’m drawn to the same
an act of attrition that seems to repeat

the strongest emotions are kept within
lessened in moments by power of words
slivers removed by knife of a quill
dipping each day to cut once again

escape is not possible by stroke of the pen
when core of the passion is never quenched
by slow release instead of a gush
dribbling emotions to mark the day.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171106.

All art is ******
so said the great Klimt
master of gender
put to oiled cloth

expressing emotion
the lens that reveals
well of desires
cloaked in abstract

gold leaf enhances
nature’s pure bliss
attraction to eyes
from curves mixed with lines

back to ******
though I’ve not far swayed
from master’s side
with words put to page

I’ll look to my own
how I echo him
hinting the lewd
while stating the lust

mine is mix
objective one day
subjective another
the blur is my kitsch

exploring dynamics
the spectrum of life
those I inhabit
and those that I love

the craft speaks to carnal
then turns back to skill
beauty expressed
****** revealed.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170930.

Pardon me while I put down my pen
step away from the world I see
no longer wishing to participate
in this confusion beyond God's grace

with those so sure of themselves
I've lost my way to find myself
absent landlord with mad tenants
I’ll emulate departure’s grief

to the victor goes the spoils
granting rope that may be pulled
knot created to aid my quest
collar tied that’s cheered on

extremities in black and white
assurance spun in sharp contrast
in the middle I struggle now
asking why I joined the farce

the answer comes with clarity
now the veil invites me in
prompted by the left and right
no longer wishing for my kind

without a pen to state my case
I'll exit now to find my way
****** by life to disappoint
this *** to call the kettle black.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171031.

Kiss the women, love them dear
caress the men, hold them close
to each there own in love’s enchant
connection is the sole account

charisma comes in many forms
it’s not in boxes with tall walls
gender seen is not the grade
nor expression is the gauge

biology is the base of life
not a barrier to stop a love
the x with same and also y
touching either can be blessed

identity may have its say
the plumbing separate from the mind
with the outcome made as beautiful
with integrity just like the cis

expression has its own world
fluid between the then and now
the best of all may fold the frame
of a person declaring grace

the soul at play is the divine’s gift
spectrum’s allure is my draw
to kiss the women, caress the men
and all so many in-betweens.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170506.

I went to sleep, exhaustion child’s
the hot line jammed, no resort
the panic has run its course
at the start I still had hope.

Now a monster roams the world
success the measure, his driving aim
with masses lured by a frightened call
asking nothing, this they’ll have.

Against this backdrop our history called
when my friends turned to the dark
wanting security above all else
turned to fiends beyond the veil.

The decrees are the outcome
forced by a country wishing change
by the ambitious with dollar signs
carved in books, religion’s mark.

That past night they didn’t care
who had won, which one departed
this was the thought by the dismayed
now I sleep, wishing the same.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170505.