Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
146 · Jun 2017
Providing Signs
poetryaccident Jun 2017
Pardon me if I use a sign
meant to find all my peeps
the ones aligned to my life
by the words I’ll confess
marked by phrases out of place
so it seems when compared
to the chatter most parley
one to another, babble’s frame.

Some will question what I mean
confusion reigning when they read
the meaning lost to their ears
the turn of phrases too foreign
because their lives are lived elsewhere
no harm is meant, this is their fate
while I exist, exemption’s child
looking for other ones.

Others have little care
for this one struggling forth
whatever said matters not
I’m too alien for that lot
they may know what I mean
yet I’m put out of their minds
not wanting to know anymore
mutterings lost in the storm.

Instead I speak to my kind
to let them know they’re not alone
providing signs they’ll discern
invitation to comfort’s arms
though the world may complain
I’ll hold them close as a friend
signs submitted to the world
finding those who need them most.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170603.
I engage in a lot of “shadow activism”, letting those of similar stripes know that they’re not alone, and that I support their continued existence.   This is done in the full view of a social media world, one that reacts little to my mutterings.  Why?  The poem “Providing Signs” examines this question.
146 · Nov 2017
Behind the Mask
poetryaccident Nov 2017
If I removed your mask
would you do the same for me
to discover what lays below
the symphony beyond a single note?

I ask because there is more
beyond the tones and the words
utilized by the practical
shackles I’d like to drop

labels seek to assign my soul
to boxes set by just one word
when the breadth is something else
the unknown beyond the undefined

there we'll find what lays beyond
map's borders that man declare
in their quest for dogma's place
constricting breadth of what could be

monsters be in that place
as are angels with singed wings
one or the other sings the true heart
with the rapture or the wail

still the truth is a blank
discovered by doing and not by sight
firmly grasped to move beyond
hearing the mysteries behind the mask.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171116.
Chuck Palahniuk is credited with the quote, "I want out of the labels. I don't want my whole life crammed into a single word. A story. I want to find something else, unknowable, some place to be that's not on the map. A real adventure. A spinx. A mystery. A blank. Unknown. Undefined."  These thoughtful words inspired me to write “Behind the Mask”.
145 · Aug 2017
No Escape
poetryaccident Aug 2017
I die inside before the whole
a gift of numbness does portend
finding peace within the void
hollow shell is left to spoil
calmness hides the inner screams
looking round at where I live
knowing there is so much more
than what I hold to my heart.

I’ll put aside the fleeting dreams
shining stars not meant to be
by the virtue of circumstance
or my lack to reach beyond
both will leave me in this room
with one as nature’s turning wheel
the other fully on my head
together shunting prospect’s bless.

Reality asks for its due
bankrupting dreams with a check
dollar signs same as hope
the wallet emptied at its request
there’s nothing left to spend
my value reduced to only dust
swirling through darkened halls
enclosed within this living tomb.

Dispassioned deadness is my home
residence feeling like a jail
watching time slip away
wondering why I’m not dismayed
when there’s a roof above my head
shelter taken in cold stillness
bars arrayed on window sills
here I’ll stay with no escape.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170820.
“No Escape” is about accepting the limitations of life, be they by circumstance or by choice.
145 · Nov 2018
Lonely Scratches
poetryaccident Nov 2018
Penciled etchings scratch the paint
once a wish for what could be
now damnation for the one
condemned by wishes before their time

boasting years far in advance
the goals extolled a fantasy
creatures thought to fly to peaks
instead walk the earth with clay feet

consider giants that cannot stand
when the landscape is nightmare’s realm
all will crawl when the path
spirals downward instead of up

imaginations of one sad mind
demanding more with every inch
ticking off the fevered goals
creating hells with every year

those heights attained by progenies
where Dad’s boasts ascribe his place
leaving failures to reconcile
lonely scratches instead of love.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181115.
The poem “Lonely Scratches” was prompted by the line "In my heart I know I failed you, but you left me here alone" in the song “Remember Everything” by Five Finger Death Punch.
145 · Jun 2019
Against the Barbs
poetryaccident Jun 2019
Excuse the voices that must exclaim
declarations some find brash
asking nothing except the need
to exist with measured peace
false positives defy a mood
pretending more with every breath
this shallow void without reference
to the needs of outside pain

criticism is sadly seen
as negative or purely bad
even when the angst is real
survival asking nothing less
the pundits howl with despair
that their fears are confirmed
if only in their trembling minds
denying truth of mankind

the judgment cast seems extreme
when their victims seek relief
first to defend and then explain
without the need to be nice
that measurement of the meek
that oppressors insist upon
do no favors in response
to injustice asking more

sage opinions are attacked
as detriment to interchange
between two parties set apart
by understanding in short shrift
the brave speak into that gap
anger present without reserve
demanding change where others flinch
against the barbs of harsh critiques.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190530.
The poem “Against the Barbs” was inspired by a Twitter post that stated in part, “(statements like) 'criticism makes you bad and negative' scare me, because what they actually mean is keep your opinions to yourself and let the thing go unchallenged or face social consequences.”  I agree this is the implied statement.  In response, activism has a place, if only to both defend and educate.  We are good. The larger world may believe otherwise, even as it asks us to accept false judgments.
145 · Nov 2017
Salvation's Gain
poetryaccident Nov 2017
Perspective is the gate I'll seek
within that wall my ego built
with stones put there by lingering doubts
protection sought was mortar's grout

of all the things I miss the most
when walls of darkness push too close
the spark of faith comes to mind
that jewel of self that's most divine

some days are blocked by stormy clouds
pulled as a curtain against the light
no longer does the lighthouse shine
lost to the fog bedeviling sky

desire becomes the poor substitute
when craving expires after use
quenched in the moment of its death
unsatisfied when it’s born again

emotions churn in soul's mortise
crucible where dark things lurk
waiting for what's not been put
fire the alchemy felt within

once more I'm at the storied gate
locked by chains of grudging pain
a simple key would allow passage
a last hope, salvation's gain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171110.
“Salvation’s Gain” is about hope, a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.
145 · May 2017
Rain Defines
poetryaccident May 2017
Does the rain define my day
by waterfall pour or stead drip?
the answer lays in how I view
nature’s realm in moisture’s grip

equality reigns when shadows leave
no longer are the forefront blessed
by ray of sun from a blue sky
when everything retreats from view

the distance hides in fog’s embrace
asking memory to fill the space
or prodding travelers to journey there
revealing landscapes out of sight

I’ll not begrudge the world’s desire
for perfect clarity after night
I’ll just ask for the chance
to see only water under clouds

cleansing is the benefit
when the dust is washed away
not to drown, instead to wash
absolve our sins, renewal’s breadth.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170521.
I wrote “Rain Define” on a wet Saturday morning at the Lake Eden Art Festival.   The poem examines the positive aspects of rainy days.
145 · May 2017
What If I Were Hannah
poetryaccident May 2017
What if I were Hannah, now departed
gone to a place you shall not reach
she led the way to realms beyond
lay down the body followed by soul
turning both to face the Lord
one can hope, as prayers pour forth

where could we have talked when I lived
before the time of consequence
the stage was set so many times
with curtains drawn before the lights
though now they've closed after the cues
were ignored as darkness fell

who should have made the first move
before the gap was too large
once we were at fingertips
an easy length to make a move
now a universe is in between
the here to there, a hole’s span

why would you wait, tempt the fates
if words were there to be said
you must have seen them sparkle in my eyes
waiting for an invite from your own
now the screams do no good
volume muted when the thread is cut

when will the time come around
to repeat what should have been
ask the man dressed all in black
he'll tell you of better realms
where peace is felt beyond the pain
while speaking of the other side

how did this happen, only words remain
testimony on this side of the grave
I loved you Hannah most of all
we both stand mute in this place
knowing others face the same
on their side of the veil.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170510.
The poem "What If I Where Hannah" was prompted by a meme that had the two panels: “I love you, Hannah” / “Why didn’t you say this to me when I was alive?”.  This is associated with Clay and Hannah, characters in the controversial show "13 Reasons Why".  This really struck me, because being alive happens on so many levels, as does its opposite states.
145 · Sep 2017
On Picket Lines
poetryaccident Sep 2017
I. The Picket Line

I met God on picket lines
he chose a side, it was not mine
still I pressed to have my say
not knowing how the future lay
a tale of woe will be shared
of deity that met my gaze
foreshadowed by his paragons
firm in belief of one true cause

the barricades held back the ranks
with civil guards in between
doing best to keep the peace
neutral bastions of the law
though their mission was noble
they were too few to stem the tide
when the righteous sought to show
the holy ire towards their foes.


II. Holy Warriors

The signs came first with bold exclaims
of justice and equality
if the color, creed, or bent of mind
was the same, not deviant
our sins were stated for all to see
already judged as a disease
the judge had spoken, jury agreed
now the hangman would be met

God put on his human face
the holy warriors with grace imbued
holding high their sacred tools
ready to tame the Devil's spawn
fervent zeal to prove their worth
divinity stamped in snarling shouts
redeemer embraced with baseball bat
they descended upon my lot.


III. The Fall

I had only words as my shield
insufficient against the blows
with dirging background of gospel chants
solid whacks as choir's response
less than a minute passed on that day
as holy justice was dispensed
praise from the angels on most high
another sinner had been dispatched

against his flock I'd drawn my stock
to represent the lesser ones
now I've finally met my God
with my life as entry pass
his true believers had their say
with the edge of sticks and shields
as I bore witness to their acts
Lord help those on picket lines.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170907.
"On Picket Lines" was influenced by a social blog and the music I listened to while writing the poem.  The social blog was a passionate tirade that seemed state the SJWs (social justice warriors) deserved to die because they were enemies of God.  The more compassionate understanding of the blog was that SJWs are pretty much worthless, so death would be OK, given that they are an affront to holy matters.  Either way, the message is harsh.  I suspect the writer was speaking to a faceless SJW monster.  Unfortunately I, one of their social contacts, placed myself in that category.

I considered if this emotional outbreak could be matched by SJW dialogue.  I decided yes, the writer did not have the corner of emotional speech all to themselves.  I was prepared to write a poem about protesting people meeting half-way, with God being found in the middle.  THEN I listened to a handful of songs by the band group Planet P Project.  Songs on their albums "1931" and "Levittown" turned my thoughts to a much darker place.  A three part poem was the end result.
145 · Jan 2018
Take Your Cat
poetryaccident Jan 2018
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.
“Take Your Cat” is based on the mythological Country tune line “Take your cat and leave my sweater” credited to Keith Urban in his song "You'll Think Of Me".
145 · Nov 2017
Style's Intent
poetryaccident Nov 2017
Of all the perks in life I love
I'll admit there's one I hold
above all else that may impress
it's the style of that exceeds
signature of a sparkling soul
manifest to show the world.

Of course the surface is quite nice
a smile and curves that combine
radiant by measure I'll attest
yet this pales by what's beyond
blend by hand of artisan
with credit due to the same.

Calling forth from pop culture
amalgamation of history
what's been old is made new
stirred together to express
what's come before is the truth
for personality now imbued.

Now I'll state what must be said
with little wind I still have left
after they’ve robbed my breath
beauty blessed by style's intent
attention turns to those who walk
on the paths they make their own.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171101.
Many of my friends are quite lovely. Some are lovely plus some. That’s because they have a personal style laid on top of their natural beauty. “Style’s Intent” is about these occurrences.
144 · Aug 2019
A Mess Resides
poetryaccident Aug 2019
A mess resides behind the mask
decades taken to accumulate
the debris of anxieties
stacked to the ceiling and beyond

disaster striking behind the scenes
spun from life’s anxieties
demanding privacy to be kept
behind the veil of reticence

this would be a reason why
to assume the front of good regard
but now the caring has deceased
the sins will flow for all to see

here’s the joke for the room
only friends will stoop to care
while the remainder carry on
with disasters of their own.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190803.
The poem “A Mess Resides” is about the embarrassing matters revealed when masks are dropped.
144 · Apr 2018
To Be Seen
poetryaccident Apr 2018
First proclaimed in the year
Madonna reached half century
another day to celebrate
what’s made evident to be blessed
26th of April’s breadth
visibility on the breeze
what was covert is now made plain
a healthy wind that still blows

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180426.
Visibility is a struggle for all people in the LGBQTIA+ community.  There are days dedicated to all those who identify with one or more of the letters.  Lesbian Visibility Day is celebrated April 26.    The day showcases women-loving-women, providing a platform for lesbian role models to speak out on the issues facing female ****** minorities.   The origins of the day remain mysterious, but is has been running since 2008. Having initially started in the US, Lesbian Visibility Day – thanks to the wonders of the worldwide web – is now celebrated internationally.
144 · Jan 2020
Transition in Latitude
poetryaccident Jan 2020
The choice is made in the soul
if a decision is the right word
instead a knowing represents
identity that fits the best

fully vested to the outcome
even though the outside lags
knowledge is held in the heart
asks for acceptance to come first

separation of biased thoughts
from the person that I am
attacks a target that does not exist
even as I must persist

an integration is my lot
with a hope the world will grasp
the whole offered up for view
with transition in latitude.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200121.
The poem “Transition in Latitude” was inspired by the thought that a fuller acceptance by society would include acknowledgment of my being a work in progress.
144 · Mar 2020
Nature’s Course
poetryaccident Mar 2020
Suffering is nature’s course
when Hell is the root source
of experience felt by all
regardless of nature’s call

echoed through centuries
if not the span of milleniums
the denominator of humankind
expressed by words unwound

the best confirm experience
demonstrating insanity
while the worst dilute the pain
denying impact in their essay

one states what others feel
the other destroys the appeal
of suffering sought by all
when damnation is the call.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200208.
The poem “Nature’s Course” was inspired by Tom Wait’s quote, “The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.”
144 · Nov 2017
Belle of the Ball
poetryaccident Nov 2017
Sometimes I wonder how it would be
to be the most lovely, attracting all kinds
when none could resist my outer spendour

staged to invite the whole of world
with mask and gown designed to entice
what is the worse that could come of this lure?

so many eyes would follow the fabric
seeking what lays below the surface
probing the folds and curves of my figure

then I’d have to deflect the advances
ten thousand hands looking for traction
unwanted thrusts from the sad masses

perhaps this is not what I demanded
when they don’t see the person fully present
beneath the beauty I once sought to covet

a cast of thousands is too much effort
when one or a dozen would be considered
to be quite enough lured by an idol

in the end I’ll pass on the seduction
temptation considered in the beginning
siren to all that would come a running

I’ll still be lovely, belle of the ball
no longer distracted by whole of the world
with enough beauty to get the job done.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171125.
“Belle of the Ball” was inspired by a Tumblr meme that asked:  “I wonder what it feels like to be one of those pretty girls that all the guys want.”   This is a good question.  I attempt to provide an answer.
143 · Aug 2017
Upon A Hook
poetryaccident Aug 2017
I’ll place my pain upon a hook
rhyming, turning, asking all
to recognize the truth involved
the freshest bait is too raw
seeped in blood drained by words
offered up as banquet's feast.

My poems are flayed from the heart
exposing nerves too long numbed
asking them to feel once more
emotion brought to the forefront
the rich harvest at long last
from the depths below the mire.

My dear reader, are you still there?
with this sentence I may sigh
the lure has kept you in my eyes
perhaps the pain is shared by more
this longhand journey brings a crowd
that bears fair witness to my mind.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170809.
“Upon a Hook” started out with the thought that the artist can draw in their audience with emotional expression.
143 · Dec 2017
Wolves Circling
poetryaccident Dec 2017
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.
“Wolves Circling” is about anxiety dreams.  These are the ones that hint at terrible matters, once thought not possible, but now given a hint of truth by repetition in sleeping spaces.
143 · Jul 2017
When I Speak
poetryaccident Jul 2017
When I Speak

When I speak I seek to share
the struggles felt within this one
reflection of the group embraced
please listen to my social group
though you may yet disagree
with statements put to your ears.

This isn't who I thought I’d be
moments of anxiety
when I was young in yesteryear
now a snowflake they abuse
or so it’s thought by contrast
by the masses that embracing fear.

Watch me shoot a telling flare
put it up into the sky
to find the members of my tribe
I'll share what bring me joy
as strange as they seem to be
outside of the accepted norms.

Exclamation of who I am
is not meant to arouse the lust
a fetish for the larger crowd
to each there own is my plea
predilections some may pursue
put to ears I hope will hear.

As a mix of all of these
just myself, and so much more
I’m not the villain some will see
please try to see my position
my disagreement does not destroy
the free speech of the whole.
I really respect those people who voice social justice topics on YouTube.   One of those people cannot freely leave their house because of mental illness, but they still vocalize rights in front of the social media.  The poem “When I Speak” is an observation of this phenomenon, and what I strive to achieve in my poetry.
143 · Jun 2017
Mirror Spun
poetryaccident Jun 2017
Another day spent on the earth
waking in the sight of God
success ringing with the dawn
another chance to make the art

there is the thing that drives my craft
when I don’t write to vent
in the angst to purge a soul
and that’s to script in quest of love

this revelation is my calling
so I may feel the same within
passion shared to all beloveds
returned in equal is the hope

this dream begins with mere words
spun from thoughts I’d like to share
that others are not alone
in my mirror spun with poems

this achievement comes each day
art’s indulgence finding grace
in the realm beyond my walls
love expressed and then returned

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170612.
The poem “Mirror Spun” was inspired by the quote, “I think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you”, by Keaton Henson.  Poetry does have a side embracing narcissistic self-indulgence.    Alternatively poetry is also expressed in an attempt to connect to like-minded people, and in this, share a measure of love.
142 · Feb 2020
Glint of Light
poetryaccident Feb 2020
Selfishness informs the lot
from the small to the large
each with desires to be sate
across the whole of the race

individuals seek to survive
asking worlds to comply
with variations of love and joy
often fitting for the flock

communities join the fray
with decisions some dismay
even as the masses cheer
for the greed others jeer

this selfishness circles round
marginalized seeking balm
pushing back to have their own
the glint of light against a storm.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200201.
The poem “Glint of Life” is about the circle of selfishness.
142 · Oct 2017
The Contest
poetryaccident Oct 2017
There is a battle I’ll reveal
between two sides that want the same
happiness sought to fulfill
the breadth of life in expanse

there’s a brawl between soldiers
one below and one above
contending for the common ground
exacting ruin with each stroke

weaponized by good intent
the conflict wracks internal space
disrupting breath that I desire
choosing paths beyond the now

each engaged in my employ
taking turns to steer the course
if only they would pull as one
provoking calm instead of strife

drawing blood with each stroke
first the reason, then ardor
I’ll never know which is best
a thousand scratches on my soul

the same master requests both
to make peace instead of war
pull together against a world
that cares little of this contest

between the head and the heart
there’s a battle every day
happiness should be the goal
if the contest was not a duel.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171017.
“The Contest” was inspired by the “*** in the City” quote, “there’s a battle between what we know and what we feel”.
142 · Jul 2017
Jar of Cream
poetryaccident Jul 2017
Feeling comfortable in your skin
having calm with what God gave
is the challenge of mortal folk
aggravated by commerce
when are we swayed by the lies
instead of listening to our chums.

Society sets the highest bars
asking pockets to turn outward
to buy products most don’t need
imploring us to hate what’s seen
love coming from a jar of cream
this is a falsehood advertised.

Turn aside from this farce
it’s not why we’re here to live
celebrate self by due recourse
with the friends who truly love
these are your allies, not the sales
sharing smiles for who you are.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170701.
The disconnect between the beauty we have, and what we see, is often due to the standards presented by the commercial realm.  Sometimes, to appreciate our own beauty, we need to look at ourselves through a friend’s eyes instead of basing our self-worth on self-serving merchants.
142 · Jun 2018
Union’s Light
poetryaccident Jun 2018
I stand bent against the years
casting veils with feeble light
obscuring more than what's shown
as the gloom gathers round

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

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

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

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180619.
The poem “Union’s Light” was inspired by thoughts of my struggle and how I draw strength from knowing there are others who have similar frames of reference.
142 · Jan 2020
Cold Medallions
poetryaccident Jan 2020
Joy derived from money’s bloom
is sad offset to the coming doom
ask the barons for their crumbs
cold medallions are the surplus

those dividends that fill the purse
aren’t enough to reimburse
the bill that children will receive
after the guilty are deceased

their bones laid in watery graves
or scorched beneath the sun’s rays
shed no tear for these ones
the siren sounded while they toiled

looking to the bottom line
while their spawn became the ******
pawned for the brass ring
if only this were fit to eat.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200103.
The poem “Cold Medallions” was inspired by NY Times opinion piece with the title “Apocalypse Becomes the New Normal”.
142 · Mar 2020
The Whole Ones
poetryaccident Mar 2020
Please identify the whole ones
constructed of the sterner stuff
embodying allegiance with the truth
and sanity also to boot
these special souls could run the show
stand watch while the inmates shout
provide the guidance many need
lock up the ones that are enemies

perhaps you identify as these paragons
these seraph of legend's lore
step up to heed the call
lead the masses with your song
the notes carry abundant hope
fully rooted in fertile soil
until the chords become distraught
by the poisons that fill the heart

an alchemy of hatred based
on the differences between flocks
this consumes the righteous soul
now unable to find resolve
between the madness of the crowd
and the noise of inner doubts
what was plainly sourced from above
now descends to the lower world

now we're tied to the left hand
source of the ills they meant to fix
pretending to speak for the right
while contributing to the plight
perhaps there are no whole ones
unless they live on mountain sides
far from the stain of humanity
this struggle of calamity.
The poem “The Whole Ones” is about dangers of seeking to be masters of righteousness and purity.  These exist only in a vacuum.  In time, exposure to the world corrupts all.
142 · Aug 2017
Dawn’s Start
poetryaccident Aug 2017
Lessons come at their own pace
some have more, some have less
the most challenged have no fault
for the burdens that pile upon
one on the other, encumbrance
doled to see who will break
as the targets look for cause
wondering why the hammer drops.

Severity is the divine joke
just grin and bear under the load
God has deemed to dole it out
or did the Devil assume control?
a story tells sanction asked
the one who lies was set to task
another reason is brought to mind
humanity is the foe found.

Mistakes are made against this veil
karma has the bill in hand
with an outcome few desire
pain amplified as consequence
the reaper comes as last resort
though too often as disease
by slow neglect or same intake
both are life’s antagonist.

When the heavens and the hells
pile on the back the burden’s toil
avoid the paths that fate a price
embrace the lessons you must take
self-awareness is hard earned
surviving falls to climb back
all’s not lost in agony
the sun will rise with dawn’s start.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170801.
“Dawn’s Start” is about suffering, sourced from intentional and fated sources.
142 · Jun 2018
To The Lovers
poetryaccident Jun 2018
This is to the lovers I regard
with a fondness from the heart
looking back through the years
at the ones that I’ve embraced

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

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180611.
The poem “To The Lovers” is about the challenge of pursuing ****** conquests.
141 · Jan 2020
Guffawed Calm
poetryaccident Jan 2020
Laughter bends to the will
of the one that’s tittering
stating more than happiness
in the span of sound expressed

emotions’ span seeks a way
to exclaim sad dismay
the derision echoed forth
is only part of the retort

madness mixes with the joy
one or the other is explored
in the chuckles and guffaws
declarations sometimes bizarre

the release is paramount
beyond the sanity of the mind
giggles are the uttered balm
lunacy to guffawed calm.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200126.
The poem “Guffawed Calm” is a consideration of the power of laughter beyond the expression of joy.
141 · May 2017
No Longer Plain
poetryaccident May 2017
I said I’d like to visit there
though I had a quiet fear
as different as I was at home
I’d be quite plain in the extreme

not to worry, Mary said
be yourself and we’ll be grand
acceptance goes both ways
identities embraced in shared dreams

fantasies no longer in shadows
when a community is engaged
predilections see the light of day
human nature released to play

remember my timid friends
none of this is out of sorts
disconnected from my character
it’s only who I truly am

Mary was the catalyst
another realm gave permit
don’t knock till you try a fling
away from home, no longer plain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170502.
The poem “No Longer Plain” was spun off two stanzas that I had laying around.
141 · May 2017
Twenty-Nine Years Ago
poetryaccident May 2017
Twenty-nine years ago
a senior in my college days
the truth came to me in the night

there I dreamt I was allured
to an object that most demurred
as I approached to longingly gaze

the start of yearning filled my head
awareness kin to creeping dread
what did this mean for a young soul?

revelation had tapped my arm
said look here son, don't be alarmed
there's no harm if that’s what you want

it was a dream so none did see
what filled my vision behind the veil
yet in my heart thought was conceived

alternatives were thus revealed
I’m awake I’ll have you know
from the dreams my path was set

now I'm true to my self
decades turned on the wheel
still I honor sleep's message.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170520.
The poem “Twenty-Nine Years Ago” as written for the prompt “to thine own self be true”.
141 · Jan 2018
Unlocked Gate
poetryaccident Jan 2018
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.
“Unlocked Gate” is about the dangers of consorting with the realm of fantasy.
141 · May 2019
Apparel of the Self
poetryaccident May 2019
The dance demands the truth
presented for all to see
by the garb or makeup's charm
each a bless destiny
imagined against the inner screen
fabrics spun upon a frame
then projected to the world
without regret if there’s concern

not the costumes of the day
or the night in their stead
falsified for safety’s sake
hope sacrificed as consequence
when the real is forced to hide
with survival then at stake
behind normality of the whole
losing all including hope.

costumes left at the door
along with masks that are deplored
these are truths some refuse
when the rest are confused
the constrained is surely ******
by the masses that don’t condone
the quest to find so much more
then a bond to the wrong clothes

garments are meant to affirm
when the tunes are evoked
to share the beauty felt within
heedless of reaction’s tongue
they know not of the quest
instead a vision is expressed
when conviction includes a goal
of apparel to state the whole.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190503.
The poem “Apparel of the Self” was inspired by the source notes:  “dressing for the dance, stepping away from the costume, wearing the true reveal”.
141 · Sep 2019
Jest by the Gods
poetryaccident Sep 2019
They say the old must surely die
to allow the new to thrive
a sacrifice that bears new fruit
from the ash of kernels cast

the promise for the hopeful flesh
shed with cocoons in the light
a cheerful plan without regard
for the outcome that then transpires

this is the jest by the gods
revealed as the greatest lie
when the reverse is the truth
culminating in a hollow life

what may be new is no more
put aside before it’s born
rotting while the old conspires
to pretend that life will thrive.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190904.
The poem “Jest by the Gods” is about a transformation that works against an individual.  The cocoon does not grow a butterfly.  Instead, the caterpillar is entombed.
141 · Dec 2018
Another Day Beyond
poetryaccident Dec 2018
Another day beyond this one
there is a chance to touch the world
when the hour then arrives
at the hall where magic thrives

lessons strive to describe
easy motions all my try
in pursuit of happy feet
upper body will cooperate

the beat waits to be found
a rhythm shared when it's blessed
to and fro within the pulse
expanding outward to be complete

from the ground the motion flows
finding venues within the soul
moving limbs in response
gyrations of the heart

reminding all that there’s a source
something more than squandered life
asking all to arrive
explore connections that few will have

without the joy and the love
this life seems empty in contrast
so another day will present
opportunity to live again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181225.
The poem “Another Day Beyond” is about the wait between social dance events.
141 · May 2017
No Longer the Lure
poetryaccident May 2017
The choices are varied
in the sea of the crowd
when one stands out
or perhaps the many
the genders are there
and those in between
from poles to the fluid
each has the place.

Attraction is varied
the precursor to more
appeal to a promise
as vows are engaged
when the love is present
the focus is found
attraction is centered
still the eye roves.

The charisma persists
across the wide range
it’s only a notion
that moves on its way
while choices are there
a love found its place
the sea of the many
is no longer the lure.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170525.
Attraction never completely goes away, even when a relationship is found.  The poem “No Longer the Lure” is on this topic.
141 · Nov 2017
Scarlet’s Stain
poetryaccident Nov 2017
Identity begs for pain
wearing crimson invites the peril
judgment from the world’s bullies

at the worst they will respond
stoke the fires to purge the world
of the deviants their hearts reject

red consumes the blackness seen
darkness weighed and then condemned
before the heat claims its prey

belief is pressed to save the world
removal of infernal foes
so the greater is made more safe

if only this would truly change
the masses erred in their rush
consumption made for the naught

now the embers are all that's left
the tears could not extinguish flames
imposed on those with scarlet’s stain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171107.
“Scarlet’s Stain” was inspired by a Tumblr posting that featured paintings of the persecuted being burned at the stake.  This is not a regular occurrence in our modern world, but this does not mean that persecution doesn’t happen because people are perceived to be different from a larger norm.
141 · Jan 2020
Travelers
poetryaccident Jan 2020
The tallest of barriers
and deepest of moats
restrict the masses
from coming too close

these leading impediments
imposed on the world
fail when the deviants
slip through the holes

the sirens of warning
bells that declare
the need to stay clear
don’t pose the scare

instead friends will find
their way to your side
regardless of walls
travelers come to the cause.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200106.
The poem “Travelers” was inspired by the quote, “Your boundaries won’t scare the right people away.”
141 · Jan 2020
Outside of Light
poetryaccident Jan 2020
Society’s decorum is tissue thin
still it’s imagined to be miles thick
those rationalities that try to assure
the animals are fully secured

those appetites for flesh and much more
******* pretended to be deplored
demands a day to be released
have its way to freely feed

wriggling in masses against the walls
appetites questing to be observed
still the pundits will avow
nothing is there as they indulge

staid purity asks the world to be contrite
turn from the darkness to the right
observe the decorum while in gods’ eyes
while finding depravity outside of the light.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200112.
The poem “Outside of Light” was inspired by considerations that the embracing of kink is more widespread than society would like to present.
140 · Dec 2018
Sought Freedom
poetryaccident Dec 2018
Ask the prisoners for the key
they’ll respond as if perplexed
wondering how such boon
existed without a god’s permit

sanction sought becomes a hell
a repetition of bad to worse
that leave available in a blink
if the proof could be found

when a release is near at hand
still not seen even though
a weight is felt upon the breast
the key exists around a neck

it’s true the door bars the way
with a fastener that would respond
don’t check the pockets that bear lint
while sought freedom is near at hand

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181227.
The poem “Sought Freedom” is about salvation.
140 · Jun 2018
City Gates
poetryaccident Jun 2018
The city gates are always there
asking nothing while giving less
waiting for the travelers
to pass within as fortunes turn
fate's golden coin awaits a nudge
to consign the occupant
with the flush of happenstance
or the dearth of emptiness

either way the path unfolds
twisting deep into the depth
of the streets paved with gold
or stained red with old blood
these chill options hold no malice
though the odds may bless the house
the pound of flesh will be found
sating gears that must turn

this machine serves all men
equally granting grace's gifts
while the equals are measured by
the meaty hand on the scale's left side
celebrate privilege while you can
accept the praise however faint
because the gods may change their minds
allow the wheel to land on black

the metropolis will survive
a howling gulf beyond entry's way
portal to the heavenly heights
or a quick trip to abattoirs
evoking smiles on stoic masks
fixed attention to piety
city gates bound to luck's draw
receive your due when you intrude.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180625.
The poem “City Gates” started out with the intent of describing adulthood in the city.  It achieved this, while also taking on a cautionary tale about gambling, temptation, or such.
140 · Jun 2018
Like the Rest
poetryaccident Jun 2018
It’s a name like the rest
label meant to mark the love
from a family at my birth
now cast to doubt in discontent
bequeathed at birth as an event
put to page as a statement
of the soul to manifest
beyond the time of diapers worn

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

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180604.
Sometimes people change their names.  This is done for many reasons.   The poem “Like the Rest” is about the struggle of the trans person to find their name.
140 · Jan 2020
The Choice
poetryaccident Jan 2020
The choice made of identity
one or the other to fit in
is made when survival asks
individuals to protect their ranks

the paths opened have their risks
with a threat at dagger’s edge
to sanity or life’s continuance
neither salves the normative

there’s no attempt to trick the group
instead the ruse is hoped adequate
to shield the self from the diatribes
prompted by ignorance of the tribe

identity is clearly known
in the heart of the one
while safety asks for compromise
to flaunt or hide against the knife.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200101.
The poem “The Choice” was prompted by a YouTube video about the choices presented to many transgender people.  They can hide or they can attempt to stealth.  Neither is a malicious choice meant to antagonize society.  They are instead methods of survival in the face of a normative that denies rights that most assumed to be available to all.
140 · Aug 2017
As If Asleep
poetryaccident Aug 2017
I dream in bright technicolor
more shades than life contains
forgetting this span of hues
when I rise with morning dew

the details stream in unending flux
shifting between here and there
when that space twists around
alien to the waking world

a cast of strangers is company
without concern of who I am
acceptance found by colleagues
existing only behind the veil

all the while there is creation
songs and sights, music’s throat
echoing from the only source
the muse inside my resting mind

do not tell me what cannot be
that was there, believe me
restrictions are ****** aside
within the realm behind my eyes

no pain is there in that beyond
the ache that meets me when I wake
I am fully blessed to feel again
the balm of youth in hurt’s relief

if only the waking could be the same
as dreams presented when I recline
perhaps it could if I strive
to live my life as if asleep.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170823.
“As If Asleep” is about how I experience the world of dreaming.
139 · Jul 2018
Deaf and Dumb
poetryaccident Jul 2018
When the space no longer holds
any source of joyful balm
by the virtue of parley
or the spread of beauty’s hand
one or the other may dispense
the sorrow felt on most days
if only this were the truth
when the margins become despair

sounds recede as if on cue
pulling back to other fools
that have need of the voice
to command the waking joke
so many plans to talk about
important matters made of ash
waiting for the winds of time
to disrupt babble’s tongue

the colors fade bright to gray
the sliding spectrum denying bliss
tumbling towards nothing more
than the pit consuming all
no light escapes depression’s place
reducing life to shadowy plains
no longer are the living seen
when dead are viewed with jealousy

now deaf and dumb without recourse
this void denies what most have
even though I seem to stand
in the presence of other men
there I’ll exist for a time
until the margins take my life
claiming what beauty owned
before the space no longer held.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180730.
The poem “Deaf and Dumb” was inspired by a social media posting.   I shared that “My world is shrinking again.  This is never a good sign.”  This garnered a compassionate response that I had not seen before, even in comparison to talking about taking a one-way trip into traffic.   Not to put a damper on the kind thoughts, the poem considers the full breadth of my musings about space.
139 · Oct 2017
Chimera’s Hope
poetryaccident Oct 2017
I dream here
of right and wrong
the darkest worlds
and blessed life
moving forward
stuck in the now
wishing more
than what I have
letting go
too much of that
evil ways
I hope the best
for dear friends
hid enemies
a world lost
then realms gained
betrayal marked
loyal comrades
in fevered visions
chimera’s hope.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171016.
“Chimera’s Hope” is about polarities of life.  It was inspired by a Tumblr meme with the words “I Dream Here”.
139 · Jun 2018
Half a Bubble
poetryaccident Jun 2018
A half a bubble to the left
there is a place beyond this life
where existence blurs to blue
away from normal rules
stated logic bound to pacts
the promises made become chains
establishing norms all agree
are the black and white decrees

demanding respect in response
to derision cast upon
subjects looking to escape
from the hatred they endure
leering taunts from afar
faceless monsters seeking harm
or associates close at hand
with a lack of tolerance

invoking quests for safe ports
the odd grovel when they’re stuck
docility born of survivals gambit
to hide in sight of master’s ire
still the bubble seeks to shift
even though the pain is real
perhaps the reason is from this
need to prosper nonetheless

into dreams that are askew
no judgment offered in the blue
floating outside normal rules
not alone in the crowd
there are other reprobates
sharing natures that transcend
touching God to realize
half a bubble is adequate.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180628.
The poem “Half a Bubble” is about the desire to escape from the constraints of the world.   The world does its job to drag a person down, crushing them into a mold.  There is an option to remain there.  There is also an option to escape, if only for a heartbeat.
139 · Jan 2020
The Flood
poetryaccident Jan 2020
If life is a river
consider its source
mouth of the substance
is divorced from its course

the banks are presented
as sound advice
followed faithfully
until the flood

that torrent consuming
land once thought safe
from the deluge
spawned by the heart

don’t ask the waters
to quickly depart
the surest of journeys
begins at the end.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200105.
The poem “The Flood” was inspired by the quote, “A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing.  She goes where she will, without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself”.
139 · Nov 2019
Anonymity Seeks
poetryaccident Nov 2019
Anonymity seeks to obscure
what’s made plain in the words
only showing by intent
the many layers of content

safety is the first domain
with excursions to the edge
peeking out from shadow’s realm
with permission to state the mind

even while the masks prevent
perception granted to the perceived
the changing visions of the id
knowing only moment’s blend

the ignorance of the world
is fertile ground for inner quests
proving that obscurity
allows artistic types to truly be.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191112.
The poem “Anonymity Seeks” was inspired by a Tumblr user who used the profile description, “I feels safe behind my anonymity.  As long as they don’t know who I am, I can be whoever I want to be.”
139 · Jul 2017
Welcome Back
poetryaccident Jul 2017
Welcome back diverted ones
the band has quit it's braying tune
bending wills to tow the line
just as the piper led the mice
silence waits to fill the ears
on the path to doom's embrace
how did the faithful come so far
to then realize they've been had?

The talking heads had their day
pundits talking up their game
while the soothing drums clambered on
to the walls, the hordes come
this was the Wizard's battle cry
as smoke and fire rose to the sky
while behind the curtain's fringe
the band played on with talking points.

'Just the facts' was chant
against the lies of heathen foes
I'll not blame a single one
for buying this with all their heart
when the fear is pumped up
with uncertainty close behind
the dread is the worse of all
combined they are a speaker's ploy.

The narcotic drip was attached
providing stimulant without backlash
those jaded days of railed dissent
when all were high with discontent
the fun's been had, now comes price
a hangover with harsh withdrawal
the fake news has come up flat
though hair of the dog may be had.

Get ready for a sad encore
as the band resumes their march
the volume has been reduced
asking all to find their marks
the piper seeks willing dupes
with a fate too near at hand
doom still calls to that kind
will the targets be twice fooled?

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170721.
The poem “Welcome Back” was written after I saw an article that expressed how people now felt about ACA.  One person said, ““I can’t even remember why I opposed it”.  Well, I think I do.  Back in the day, the Conservative news-a-sphere was on fire regarding how incredibly evil ACA was.  Now, well, not as much.  Can people not remember the news and comment they were digesting?  The “welcome back” I refer to is either: “welcome back to (relative / moderate) sanity” or “welcome back to your bubble”.
Next page