I'm still haunted by the sides
of life's coin turning around
ever present in my view
asking more than I can bear
both the beauty and the taint
latter being ugliness
assault my senses with no regard
for the damage that's been done.

In the present I'll take beauty
the lines and curves that steal my breath
that's not the ill of my complaint
I quite appreciate the scenery
instead the drumbeat of the parade
repeats the song I cannot sing
doomed to see and not embrace
my voice is lost forever more.

Fallen contrasts to the beauty
humanity bowing to lowest evils
by their hubris or selfish needs
the same outcome is ensured
these are like the air we breathe
sin embedded in our frames
still I turn from the foulness
wishing we could find God again.

By the sides I lose all hope
never resting on firm ground
I am lost to disconnect
from divinity of all kinds
be they grace or be they vile
each is a face of life’s coin
spinning on the silver’s edge
haunting me on each side.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180315.

Stature confirming beauty’s place
knowing all is as it should be
contentment gained in the end
sadness spurned by reality

refine impressions at heart’s dismay
as predilections have their say
acknowledging those surely blessed
still admiration may persist

divine impression restrained to sight
embrace artifacts hewed from life
to admire nature’s consequence
belying what could follow next

separated by life’s great gulf
admire the breadth of results
surety set by the frame
stature confirms beauty’s place.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191116.

Life spins round the single point
all time taken in the observed
consumed against more than less
or opposite as consequence

is this the drain circled now
or *** of gold to cash against?
both are an end to the means
of damning efforts to redeem

consider outcomes that transpire
by the fruits that are acquired
while the surface is the same
the shell contains the darker stains

by the debris cast about
the drain demands little worth
only that life prepares
to be consumed in karmic sleight.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190901.

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.

What came before may persevere
exacting cost against the change
now unwilling to release
those who seek to find their way
the paths may open late in life
disregarding history
even while the tales repeat
echoes none would choose to hear

the deeper truths may take time
informed by signposts in the fog
becoming clearer as the sun
burns the doubt from the mind
pointing onward into light
still the darkness is nearby
with the tendrils reaching forth
like a shadow that persists

only existing as a shade
reliant on brightness to exist
to have one will bring the other
but death awaits in retreat
to shun this creature is to turn
back to the pit from where it came
instead persevere with the change
knowing life will then persist.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181006.

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 I would like to play
put down the hair in all respects
without restraint for what may come
when miscreants gather round
don’t condemn their unique tastes
or impugn depravity
these measures lay far beyond
the hallowed halls of wickedness

holy priests are not found
in their place are sacred clowns
blessed with intent to reveal
perversity behind the veils
each a master in their realms
the subs agree this is the best
to each their own is the refrain
as deviants take to the stage

step from the clothes that constrain
they’re not needed amongst friends
with intents that are the same
disregard for cover’s charm
the end result may soon depart
from the normality of any sort
don’t be afraid if that’s the case
it’s our tendency to misbehave.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190505.

These words are traced in lines of blood
calligraphy that few dare
when the worse becomes my best
evoked from realms far below

this ink evoked from split veins
pierced by wounds every day
the font is filled to overflowing
still not enough to share my life

each awaking becomes a toil
asking witness by my poems
this unburdening states my pain
shared by others who travel same

screams impressed in crimson dye
no longer silent as stanzas mount
to fill a space that all may see
what was concealed now freely bleeds.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180703.

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

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

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

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

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

Look to the ones who give witness
expressing sorrow along with joy
the lessons shared are expressed
with examples in silent prayers

this careful mix that’s explained
from the pulpit of life’s dismay
extorting what should not be
while existing to find peace

speaking examples by their rote
providing homilies based on hope
a paradigm that most believe
this case of silence turned to ten

behold a ritual of routine
expressed by verity for the world
listen closely as you watch
salt of the earth close to home.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181106.

The locks exist in testament
to the gates that weren’t kept
closed at times life escaped
like the horse of fabled writ

the temptations beyond four walls
outside the barrier that constrains
beckons those who desire
something more than life restrained

equines sadly run amok
leaving safety of the stall
when the safeguards failed to keep
hearts from straying to wilderness

where the barbs pierce the heart
drawing blood as consequence
now that locks are afterthoughts
life will ponder what's been lost.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190921.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180117.

Look to darkness for a laugh
chuckles pulled from the pain
sadness has a new lease
loneliness in the extreme
their companion is not light
when the absurd is brought forth
to contrast with absent joy
survival discards the empty smile

the void demands something else
on the altar of the felled lives
if existence must proceed
beyond the phantoms of deceit
monsters of direst dreads
provide the truths few accept
except when the veil is dropped
pulled from the rod to the floor

when holiness becomes absent
the profane will take its place
forcing choices among the scraps
some are better than the rest
a sacrifice is brought to bleed
as the basin collects the drops
an offering of darkest taint
extols the pure that it’s replaced.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190307.

Loose the cords that pretend to bind
connecting heart to the mind
the bond is parted at long last
remedy to pains of the past
  
allowing life's nature to transpire
sink to the bottom of the mire
join that collective that's expired
majority calling to those still alive

what came before was meant to pass
everything gone in it's own time
to hurry along is natural
when disconnection allows the pull

now the mind may rule the day
call in the dusk to some dismay
emotion's betrayal at long last ******
with comfort found in distant lands.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191220.

I ask if the loss will predict
even more as years unwind
first the inch and then the yard
miles to travel to find myself

putting down what’s at hand
filled beyond what I can grasp
clattering to the welcome ground
taking what I cannot clasp

accepting debris I’ve attained
this is my mission if I’m brave
declining treasure turned to trash
put aside so I may trek

in the end I’ll walk upright
no longer bowed by the rocks
put in pockets and on shelves
loss portend and then embraced.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171113.

Love extends beyond the rules
set by those who are confused
by their sight bound to ignorance
relevance set by experience

what’s not known may fill a world
when passion is sure to diverge
seeking paths beyond the norm
that lazy trail of dogma’s charge

unable to see past the choice
made by the most conservative
count all the persons in this group
when nothing matches from high to low

instead consider that love will find
the balance found between minds
with hearts entrusted to explore
the ways that confirm this fervor.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191224.

Lovely Luna is by my side
her last name is not known
a simple guess would do the trick
bring the answer to your lips

satellite I’ve found at last
now we circle as if one
taking turns to shine bright
while the other bids their time

perhaps you’ve seen her countenance
her presentation surpasses mine
when the mirror gives its nod
in her direction the gaze is blessed

you’d imagine she’s quite fair
golden hair and yellow dress
reality is far more dark
an emo vibe is prevalent

acquaintance made in twilight years
identified by her name
it’s a match with one more true
time will tell who will prevail

the best example of my life
beyond the walls I’ve lived behind
this encounter is surely blessed
when lovely Luna is by my side.

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

Black on black with lovely straps
high and low to draw the eye
it’s demur at the same time
this lovely garment I’d like to wear

my true focus is the glam
an attitude sewn with thread
hither-come with true sass
celebrating what I could have

discretion found in fabric’s fold
it’s intent and not the flash
I feel the beauty meant to be
waiting for my measurements

from the dross of weaver’s hand
dyed to match midnight's hue
the creation is at last worn
exclaiming triumph on my frame

now the style is shown to all
an easy glance reveals my soul
black on black with lovely straps
I’ll take this form of elegance.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180331.

Listen closely to the voice
warning of the lovely traps
those that beckon from beyond
with entreats that promise charms

beauty turned to drop the guard
of experience sourced from years
knowing right from troubled wrong
now at risk before the plunge

discarded without a thought
in pursuit of false beguile
flirtation with no return
an invitation damning all

this promise of quick delight
hiding doom in hindsight
listen closely to the call
to walk away before the fall.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191001.

Where is my lover cast of life
with proportions of the same
shades submitted with mix of pain
and the joys of common folk?

those colors set to waking life
nothing more and nothing less
shades of gray tempered throughout
with vibrancy that steals the breath
by embellishment of the details
from the smallest to those more large
each has their place for true romance
with the soul clearly sought

celebrating love through poetry
or a brush put to paint
both exact an honest note
showing nothing beyond myself
knowing life may ask too much
from the requester found within

no denial is asked in response
the full embrace in openness
my lover then made real
in scope of life then revealed
I ask no more than this
the full of life marked with a kiss.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190630.

I’ll meet you there, along the path
boulevards will shepherd us
two lost souls beneath the fray
invoked by peril to a land below

search for the hidden underground
entrance under the danger words
just stand still and you’ll sink
to a place few suspect

you’ll descend to the nether ream
known to those who travel there
though more than you would think
beneath the staid reality

visiting is the only option
for some reason none will reside
instead they travel here to there
past the echoes of bygone days

it’s a world lost to time
lodged beneath what you know
left behind to find its way
nothing changed, there to stay

at the end we’ll ascend
no longer will the twilight shine
seek the light with sun’s warmth
leave behind our lower bond.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170618.

Was pretty put on this earth
to tantalize or to curse?
this is the question of the day
while I bend my knee to pray

when I see the lovely prance
do their **** little dance
I ask the God above for peace
to tame the passion with relief

these temptations are enough
to boost libido to the top
without an avenue to relieve
the inner pressure in my sleeve

what's been prompted should be spent
this is the law of viral men
not to waste the evoked seed
knowing life may be conceived

still my conscience begs for good
asking why I would be lewd
there is no fault in splendor's face
even if I'm drawn in haste

so that those ends I'll withdraw
hold frustrations in my paw
release what God has ordained
with machismo now explained.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181030.

Love was lost in the rush
to assuage the emperor's lust
the passion for certitude
that power would forever rule

lorded over with threats of ruin
for all those who would review
the wrongs committed by the king
fealty valued above all things

otherwise the gentle hearts
would recognize the siren's call
to sacrifice their very souls
on the alter of mad Cole

sequestered in the tower's heights
far above the wrong and right
there was a chance before the fall
now the land will love now more.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200204.

Madness absent presents a void
where only tiredness may prevail
along with ghosts that circumscribe
the issues that still haunt my life

the ideation is put aside
no longer present at all times
a long reprieve from the call
from the darkness of the void

when sanity was found at last
from a source that I’d not expect
the fog of doom is finally pierced
to reveal normality

the journey becomes one of days
small diversions hand-in-hand
with the grind I now embrace
less excitement of death’s hint

now the years stretch ahead
demanding more than past lack
it’s enough to turn back
find a way to mania

here's the joke before you go
if ideation is all one knows
spice provided is then missed
neurosis gone is for the best.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181120.

The chosen seek to elevate
themselves above the tainted crowd
with intent to safely flee
where the narrow trails may finally lead

into realms with thin air
shared by clouds that obscure
the mist hiding mortal souls
from rapport of those below.

this escapes asks a price
denying sanity after a spell
spun by tomes of ancient source
wisdom lost for dogma sought

in the end blindness reigns
only seeing their like kind
even while the eyes discern
fault outside the clan’s four walls.

it’s not enough to recognize
a shared reality with the rest
now the size of buzzing flies
with importance just the same

madness gained for safety gained
summits ask far too much
with the chasm that defies
humanity shared by all kinds.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190606.

To travel beyond the edge of space
view the cosmos in all its grace
would be easier in comparison
to viewing within the self

countless stars in galaxies
some too dim to easily see
can be known before the mind
reveals its secrets in the light

the deep shadows multiply
one on another as we pry
away from comfort’s habitat
pursuing tunnels without end

those depths of darkness echo laughs
not of our own as fear replies
some speck of ego amplified
in response to queried probes

seeking secrets best concealed
if sanity will be retained
when the phantoms gather round
becoming solid in the mind

totality is ignored
the wise struck down to fools
heavens shrunk to one hell
in the maelstrom of the mind.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181230.

Major Tom took a walk
stepping past the capsule’s door
far above the blue globe
in pursuit of so much less

those few steps beyond the curb
an empty street except for one
wishing the crowd was less
in the realm of empty space

a void allowing only thoughts
that last step two hundred miles
with many more far above
the journey taken with no return

seeking freedom few admit
beyond the chains of relevance
as the spaceship found its way
circuits empty to earth’s dismay.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190730.

Make a note to mark the place
something referenced afterward
when the world has revolved
and still the cause pushes on

add to the stack of lettered screams
so many stating a need for change
yet the pile will surely grow
with additions stacking on

without regard for lunacy
the same repeated once again
please don’t fret if this is so
even angels are laid low

just remind the deaf self
something more may be done
announced by notes from the heart
perhaps one day they’ll be heard.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190405.

If I could manage surety
arrange the world against my dreams
the path now taken would be ignored
for safer climes on rosy shores
the inner compass did not agree
with directions of harmony

those decrees that stated goals
considered normal for the all
agreement is the Holy Grail
when signing on the bottom line
adherence granted to confirm
the confidence to belong

in return the way is shown
keeping all safe from harm
a guarantee to show the way
happiness behind the veil
security in stolid chains
a certitude I can’t concede

even if the final price
condemns a soul in aftermath
freedom asks for no less
faith is found in the self
surety now left behind
instead the dreams become my life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190616.

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

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

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

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

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

Marionettes on genders’ strings
made to dance as new offspring
by writ of birth the die was cast
setting in motion life’s circumstance

this declaration that odds prescribe
mostly right some of the time
this is no comfort for those betrayed
when assumptions rule the day

now the puppets move about
pulled by strings spun from doubt
those filaments that serve few
both watchers and marks confused

the latter must fight to know
an escape from thread’s control
when they pull against the conceived
following what the heart believes.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191221.

I drew the lines to mark the stars
with a pen inked by my heart
between the dots here and here
shining bright in the dark

etched connections with a pen
dipped in silver sparkled ink
imbued by faith celestially sourced
brought to earth for amour

the inky depths drew my eye
beauty found beyond the veil
demanding worship from the pen
tracing memories I’m sure to keep

strokes transparent except at night
when the moon echoes the sun
reminder that I’m not alone
scribbler finding starry love.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180824.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The celebration is for the ones
left behind when all is done
with glad knowing of the deeds
committed in the name of need

intentions set for vacant joy
the quick drug to be explored
passed around for all to use
there’s enough for full abuse

while the fix may seem enough
cacophony for guffaws
the end result is not enough
to lift the dead from their slump

recognition damns the souls
with sad statements made in jest
for a body meant for dust
when the decades run their course.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190619.

Those that came before
shot by arrows and trapped by lures
forged the trails all now walk
without regard for the lost

walls made of glass ten feet thick
doors shaped with sharpened thorns
these avenues were their path
as egos pressed to hold them back

conservatives exclaimed strong ire
as the bodies fell by the side
intolerance had a long hand
exacting martyrs drenched in blood

the price was known in those years
and then forgotten with banners hung
in the halls where glee persists
while memories collect the dust.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190722.

Of all the things I’d like to forget
there is one that won’t relent
insisting that I bear witness
to the stranger now absent

pretending to be pertinent
something more than fevered dreams
even though waking does not commit
to supply the same to compensate

from the long ago and far away
a storyteller of top regard
liar liar pants on fire
asking favors that I can’t supply

inability becomes the song
notes applied to instruments
to which life is tone deaf
I appeal for deafness to descend

crystal clear in murkiness
decades past in the rear view
all too clear even while
the beauty lives across a void

this illusion I won’t pursue
though memories ask otherwise
taunting without due remorse
for the fool who should forget.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181210.

Mortality is the closing fate
promised by the watching gods
for those mortals on the face
of a world all will escape
sad casualty of many fates
each with the same end result
taking all from the souls
arrayed at the finish line

finality that none shall avoid
hence my focus on the now
taking arms to make a mark
not play the martyr in response
by a pen or the sword
drawing blood in last resort
fighting back against the dusk
while the sun is lost from sight

stones reside on the hill
some exclaim the consequence
of laying down before the end
already placed in victimhood
look to the others that inspire
beneath the stones their arms are ******
a ******* to the sky
still the warriors as in life.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180817.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgive the crimes that don’t exist
except in the minds of little men
who exclaim without reserve
what others fail to observe
counting slights where none exist
while exclaiming holy names
still the pundits harbor hate
stated to the lost's dismay

those who travel outside of bounds
moving to their inner plot
a compass that many have
still the squares will complain
denying likeness is at play
a minority against the whole
it seems enough to stoke the flames
turn the night into day

they believe sins are paramount
spun from cloth they only view
a cloak of shame that’s fully false
only seen in bigot’s eyes
stating choice is at play
instead of a natural tilt
it matters not what’s then said
when natures are firmly fixed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190604.

Illusion may have its way
bend reality with a friend
while allowing music’s lead
to orchestrate this short affair

the fallacy will be embraced
a blink of joy as consequence
not enough to cure the itch
still the balm is revered

the romantic may be teased
with a wink and nudge
first to stir and then to sleep
returning to the waiting depths

the partners speak in hushed tones
without saying a single word
allowing motion to relate
what’s allowed in fantasy

pretending there's something more
in the conjuring of the song
then return to boxes where
innocence will be restored

the lyric bard may not abuse
considerations beyond that realm
when all that’s granted by the dance
are mirages that soothe the soul.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181016.

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

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

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

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

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

Mirror mirror on the wall
avert your gaze from this mortal
rescind judgment, look away
I'll have no part with you today
others may rebuff themselves
or even worse, in relative
these I'll look with different eye
gauge their beauty above the blot.

Then the monsters assert themselves
in form of mist inside my head
capturing vision to misuse
seeking wounds on psyche’s soul
taunting whispers, pointing paws
stating wrongness all too large
flaws are plain in their sight
best to turn in case they're right.

Others don’t see my flaws
or if they do, they play them down
mole hills where I see mountains
a little bump where I feel walls
the quickest glance is enough
please don't pause, look too long
lest the fears be then confirmed
by mirror, mirror on the wall.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170714.

The old ones say mirrors hold
portals to the lost worlds
beyond awareness once embraced
now an echo all will chase
in due time the council waits
reminder of what has been
though in that place we once assumed
to be forever in eon's blink

a smooth surface holds the past
held beyond connection's grasp
apparent warmth in comely curves
these harsh jests now observed
the truth awaits in observed lies
across a chasm of silver sheen
the past caress has been removed
nostalgic flashback now disabused

this sweetest dream of memory
revealed as mockery in the now
is still pure in God's delight
a taunt on the wheel turning round
all too real but for the gulf
between the copy and the first
purist delicacy that was removed
now only present mirror's face.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180705.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

I am the monster in their midst
breathing air like decent men
while insisting I belong
spinning lies while concealed
a miscreant of ill intent
when the standards all conflict

one by one they are betrayed
by the spectrums my life spans
while holding tight to the mask
lest it slips to show the beast
the cataclysm would follow suit
on that day the veil is dropped

a doppelganger now suspect
of malfeasance behind the back
misconduct against the whole
measured by the normative
a betrayal without regard
to the feelings spun from glass

made more fragile by beliefs
filaments strung from self-deceit
once trusted to hold the line
now standing outside of bounds
even though I’ve not moved
the world has shifted on its own.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190516.

Imagine the monsters lay beyond
this is best for the mind
lest the cracks open up
in the realm of danger's cusp
to do otherwise would admit
evil lays close at hand
not in the form of conjured jinns
instead from plainness man distills

in response the authors state
fantasies beyond the shade
terrible visions to still the heart
while much worse lingers near
the sins are often all too real
depravity sometimes ill-concealed
spilling from base desires
to manifest in waking dreams

no devil of the holy tales
nor demons from horror yarns
can compare to living kin
in wickedness put upon
few contrive to best the hells
instead the monsters slowly morph
from the selfish tendencies
to something in the extreme

in the end the monsters fade
from the sight and the mind
to admit otherwise
would test the reason of the strong
sanity over naked truth
villains shift to fiction’s page
there they live outside of death’s domain
where they **** in waking strife.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190109.