When the monsters gather round
all too ready to devour
I seek safety in the shrinking light
while the danger consumes me whole
I'd rather perish from this place
escaping by means that should not be
than meet the shadows that would consume
certitude of happiness.

Anxieties can hold sway
over souls too hurt to try
bleeding from a thousand cuts
the gaping wounds I now ignore
this greatest laugh of them all
to be a failure in public's eye
is seen less than efforts put
to cleaning up the shattered past.

The bitter pill is swallowed fast
steel barrel put down the throat
marking breaks from monsters round
it's all to sad they'll multiply
celebrating their winning taint
result of my giving up
leaving battles that can't be won
by the survivors left behind.

My escape could be enough
serenity found outside of life
I'll tell myself this greatest lie
while monsters gather I cannot fight
I pretend that I'm OK
anxiety absent on the bright days
this would be true if the sun shown
instead of gloom where I walk.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180510.

The monsters hide in plain sight
behind the knowing of a smile
wishing nothing less than death
for the ones they now condemn
agendas held close to vest
shared between the miscreants
with beliefs that are the same
poison shared to stoke the flames

the platitudes of a forked tongue
hold two tales near at hand
one to preach to the fold
the other soothes the outside fools
the former has been weaponized
instructing soldiers to their side
of devils wishing nothing more
than ascension while others fold

don’t turn your back lest they strike
with the knife behind their back
their disguise may confuse
camouflaging past abuse
a mask arranged to impugn
society held up as a dupe
what peeps out does not last
lest the secret destroy the bad

both the friends and family
may hold the seed of discontent
planted by the fiends that seek
converts to their base deceit
the intent is clearly seen
all too late when more are made
the monsters are always there
unless the rest remain aware.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190504.

Monsters walk the earth in your name
with flocks aligned without shame
to the masters born of men
thought to speak without sin

by declarations the die is cast
to ensure the cause will last
beholden to only power’s grab
there is no difference between good and bad

it’s not enough to serve the day
instead the masses are asked to pray
that generations will feel the yoke
now condemned by the words spoke

faded edicts stooped with age
cherry-picked to the dismay
of targets not of the flock
those decried to matter not.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200211.

Survival asks for a retreat
finding shelter lest a defeat
destroy more than what’s due
when hatred is the attitude

that consensus of the crowd
now embolden to speak out loud
by the virtue of leader’s sway
breadth of humanity is betrayed

to be different is now enough
damnation granted on a whim
the result when fear compounds
confirmed wishes of the crowd

this withdrawal to survive
brings a tear to my eye
the omens state all should beware
while monsters wear human form.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191217.

The monster patiently bides its time
knowing events will coincide
to release them from their cage
exact a vengeance with certain rage

not with a voice that roars above
the crowd assuring all is well
instead the words are whispered tones
slicing deep when one's alone

insisting that the end is near
there is no connection with close peers
instead the fiend cruelly states
escape is assured when you're dead

this left-hand path that most deny
is the monster's greatest lie
foisted on the victim's mind
when the monster bides its time.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200206.

Moonbeams taken as currency
from the sky in nightfall's realm
collected in a silvered jar
shining bright as treasures grow

all I dread is cloudy vaults
or the waning in due time
evoking shortage when the beams
are absent from bounty’s purse

fear not as the sphere is seen
queen of month returns again
from dark to bright the cycle turns
satellite of dreaming time

light hoarded in near dark
then spent in response
to my time in the sun
while I long for further wealth.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180904.

Another post from the frontier
a distant realm I behold
far removed from this room
yet close enough to fill my world
electronic whispers I can’t ignore
echo across connecting wires
from the camera to my screen
repetition reveals a friend.

On vblog or shared broadcast
they’ll say hello with many themes
I celebrate what I hear
contrast is the joint mission
more than a stranger, less than a friend
perhaps one day they’ll know I care
concern extended is only felt
when I post comments with the rest.

With a click I’ll stretch my hand
raise my voice to speak above
one of many existing in
the gulf between here and there
the lines are blurred as I recede
into the crowd that fills the land
from local doorstep to far shore
yet close enough to fill my world.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170720.

Some people face it for a year
or a week here and there
bringing life to its knees
then they're back on their feet
sanity returns to the hands
instead of slipping like the fog
hiding that I genuflect
a position I’m doomed to keep.

The power of positive
focusing on life beyond the fog
the life preserver tightly grasped
questing ground beyond the frowns
that’s assuming there is land
not the void inside my mind
mist defying certain gains
against the future I seem to dread.

Here’s the greatest gap I see
that span of years in difference
theirs of decades two or three
mine of half a century
when the darkness walks beside
the sole constant, not quite a friend
instead of the sad transient
I face the cloud more than a year.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170912.

Inside the many shells we peel
there’s a layer underneath
laid down by life to mark the time
protection for what’s outside
paint with layers a mile thick
or the onion with no center
both are hints what may come
when the bottoms are then plumbed.

The box lids lift to disclose
another square with a top
perhaps round, it matters not
compartments mask more from sight
when there’s another tucked inside
what’s obscured is still veiled
receptacles hide what’s not found
except within the mind’s realm.

The spirals found are infinite
a puzzle snared in veil’s riddle
if deity could show the way
the smoke from fires would blind the day
perhaps the caskets will reveal
or the urns that hold the ash
when the shells are reduced
to nothing more than memories.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170905.

Dawn will soon be embraced
for treasures beyond the curve
of the earth now brought to hand
wanton actions then expressed
the mold is broken and then reformed
sensuous defined by each one

far-flung stars gazed in sleep
Scorpio waiting for a chance
when emotions churn within
private dreams foretold the way
those secret urges beyond the veil
brought to waking in the light

morning risen to exclaim
what the night hid away
the slumbering to be roused
or should arousal be the term
for dispassion put aside
in response to nature’s urge

vocal ***** and stirring hens
or reversed and transposed
now awoken from their sleep
ask for strokes to greet the day
more than enough to awake
achieve release not found in sleep.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180930.

One of four
polar of white
shelter turned
to mourning’s bed
in ancient caves
bulls foretold
Latin’s lingo
towards present day.

In the rich soil
fertility
protection granted
against the dead
turned to hex
cruelty
brutality
with evil’s stain.

The Romans foretold
our future affairs
by business men
with money’s spore
mourning loss
witches’ spell
profit’s magic
buys elegance.

This devil’s shade
assumed by those
seeking power
of their own
on clothe of clergy
executives
less prestigious
than crimson tints.

These frame the words
on paper’s face
red letter phrases
are so blessed
mere mortals scribe
ancestor’s ash
the writer’s shelter
on mourning’s bed.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170518.

The music is proper to the time
a pulse echoing within the soul
reminding all of their tasks
to move a groove deep inside

allegiance shown to task at hand
none should despair in consent
nothing more than conjoined bliss
rhythm felt and then expressed

that heartbeat pulsing in between
prompting contact few may dare
now inevitable by nature’s nod
quick response to the notes heard

the music varies every time
some recorded, some is live
sometimes only heard within
still the motion moves a groove.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180714.

There are two ways this could go
when the measure has been resolved
of whether nature moves to shock
or boredom is the end result

shame is assumed without proof
humiliation only found
with a result that mortifies
death by variety that fills a life

while reality says otherwise
tedium becomes the norm
apathy fills the void
when existence is switched about

the latter is the sad result
embarrassment put aside
in diversity the truth is known
comparisons become too trite.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190728.

Music is the medicine
of the mind as requisite
for my sanity to sustain
to the ends I’ll gladly share

melodies are the antidote
to the pain I struggle with
discord from felt deep inside
resolved with choices across all styles

in these genre’s I submerge
into artists and their tunes
so diverse as if to prompt
a widespread fix to misery

no addiction will occur
when the harmonies are the balm
to the pains that afflict
heart and head seeking calm

escape is found in the song
opus strung between the notes
forming havens that I’ll embrace
a safe retreat from maladies

a cure is found in lyric form
gloom dispelled with thrumming drums
within the beat all mercies sprung
replacing grief as discs are turned.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181124.

If I could write a poem
bend the words to my will
creating stanzas that express
rapture captured by music's voice
these songs evoke a different land
one more beautiful than bland verse
soaring high as eagles may
while I trudge low with lame quatrains.

I'd join the masters of the verse
if music was a skill of mine
or words spilled from my mouth
mixing verse with harmony
sadly mine is weak tradecraft
with a lack of concert's kick
as I wonder into realms
shared by those who write the word.

I'm not sure what others see
observing songs' heritage
poetry grants a wide boon
to those who take up the sword
free form mocks a cousin's flow
like real life to a musical
when the grit is sole pursuit
carving words to the page.

I embrace this in my rage
or when grief strikes me down
stumbling on the lyricist's path
for a time before standing up
then I drift back to what I know
pretend I can write the song
without the tunes that would complete
what I seek in melody.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180424.

The Devil muttered words to lose
skirting precepts the prompt hewed
forbidden chants once inscribed
the decline that’s now described

first came passion mixed with desire
this turned towards what’s despised
with a chuckle the nuptials
became the taint that held them both

this union that begged for flight
not to run but to escape
down the warrens of false hope
damning those who lived above

to end it all would be the choice
presented by the Lord of Lies
twisting words that can’t be used
profanity shunned in respect

broken free of chains that bind
dogma stated by holy ones
from the turrets of ancient spires
creeds no longer supporting lives

belief too weak to crawl alone
when foundations are destroyed
all the pronouns become like worms
lacking words Satan that robbed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181105.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They asked of my favorite child
or should I say the best poem
from the many scribbled down
when the Muse had they way
more than a thousand have been writ
along the road to relate
a primal drive to express
lest I vanish without a trace.

The topics ranged across the board
each had a place as I disgorged
some are pleasant while others dire
the extremes were east to west
greatest beauty above the depths
of blackest pits where I may live
one or the other is valid
thought usually not at the same time.

One or the other had its place
in my emotions of the day
these are captured to the page
testament to humanity
perhaps others share my angst
or they sense splendour's span
my declarations are my own
asking more to play along.

Back to the question I was posed
which of the poems would I embrace
as the best of all my words
tip of the mountain I’ve composed
I’ll not choose which is best
because the emotion then revealed
depending on how I feel
is my best that I’ll present.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180329.

People wonder who is my God
a private matter brought to the front
with the answers too often thought
to be aligned along two fronts
either the holy or the ******
these are the choices near at hand
I’ll step aside from these paths
present my own as consequence

God exists for all to see
in the rocks and the trees
the sentient that came before
and will exist afterward
this span defies all attempts
even as their ego may desire
by mankind to raise themselves
above the realm shared by all

creation came from the one
a multitude beyond count
now the basis of all things
forever bonded as a result
the before defining now
with sanctity as the norm
there is no difference to be found
if the bits are pulled apart

even while mortal souls
attempt to state the good and bad
God still stands without regard
to dogmatic efforts of the priests
they chase after sin of every type
each a fault found in themselves
treating all with abuses
by chasing villains of the mind

the taint of sin is too real
though most are confused
to the source of this malaise
God is still a mystery
ask the suffering that persists
beneath the symptoms is the cause
companion to the ego’s will
with agendas few confess

deriving pleasure from the pain
explanations spun to impress
salvation is a worthy goal
if it weren’t needed after all
these sad attempts to compress
deity into a small book
once a reference to be checked
now the manual to suffering

into this life we are pressed
to reconnect to everything
forgotten in the agony
relief standing close at hand
this is my God that I grasp
both myself and much more
completeness found outside of tomes
connections to the Holy Grail.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190511.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgive me for my manic gaze
an obsession others may dismiss
when my words spill to page
sacrilege to the common man

when they look to their dismay
to my focus, what I write
of injustice to the few
or feeling pride in who am

one phrase may have a dozen sides
theirs and mine, why must we fight?
I’ll seen mine from past’s insight
others from dogma’s guiding light

while others will wonder why
I resist bless overtures
because to pilgrims I am lost
a sinner to their sanity

the manic gaze lingers still
in this last stanza I’m still lost
I’ll bid my time to share the world
with those who wish to save my soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170608.

Sometimes I welcome her
the mistress to my forward face
only seeking for her time
beyond the grasp of masculine

that existence few suspected
even as the lady sought
to find a path to the light
drop the curtain to floor

behold the doxy of my heart
courtesan I’d like to share
if my clan could accept
what they believe is profane

the normative will have its say
exclaiming loudly in their dismay
denying unity in myself
when I dare equivalence

bless the souls who understand
forgive the woman at my side
all too real for many years
greatest secret hid from myself

totality is found mixed gender
sharing space in my cosmos
femininity found and then loved
stepping forward to welcome her.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180809.

I am my sibling in my heart
cloaked behind a brawny front
at last the truth has been revealed

gender filled within the gaps
fairer *** found at last
attained in shadows of the soul

today the signs are understood
pointing towards an inner tribe
seen in the mirror of my life

embracing sister found within
forms identity of myself
lineage explaining who I am.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180306.

Why am I so confused
that I want you
to treat me contrarily
take me seriously
and also to cast me
aside like a rag?

the former would
build my esteem
make me human again
the former is food
consuming my flesh
for the monster inside

the struggle is real
not felt by most people
comfortable in their skin
supported by their kin
not wanting to depart
supported by the neglect

I'd take my leave
thank those who gave
lifted me up those days
while treasuring disdain
(imagined or otherwise)
as my place to remain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170503.

Narration phrased at the start
a conversation held in chains
with the rules that show the way
to conclusions already made
compromise is put aside
when the righteous already know
how the game should unfold
on the battlefield of the soul

divide and conquer is the norm
advocated for a cause
while the insane masquerade
as the prudent with steady hand
wishing unity on their terms
now that the past is put aside
no compassion if the outcome
when dissension is put down

starting fresh is for the best
before the power is forfeited
there is no shame in holding place
lest the balance claims the day
predominance above all else
all drive decisions that were moral
**** the dogma of the past
secure the levers that drive the world

violence is another word
for the protest that’s incurred
when past silent are then heard
on the streets and by the word
no longer should we be content
to abdicate with talking heads
now that it’s clear narration holds
society as the biggest fool.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181122.

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.

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 pleasure was near at hand
ready to cheer the day found bland
with a focus on beauty’s sight
an end in lechery's pure delight

within the span of minutes spent
the outcome was heaven sent
for a time that was too short
before repetition was forced resort

now the need has been replaced
with inability to terminate
the desires that seek relief
from boredom and baleful greed

instead the days have no release
the thoughts kept without reprieve
pleasure is lost to bygone days
in the present of sad dismay.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200118.

I lay beside the near stranger
In the darkest of the night
speaking words for him to hear
as death crept close in between
I hoped to stay his seeking hand
in a grip that could prevent
encroachment of the hooded one
eager to take what all will give.

"It is not your time my new friend
this beast will take you in the end
but it not need be this very day
please turn from him, this I pray"

In their eyes I saw the fear
the dread of living on the edge
when all of life is too much
the good in things far out weighed
what could I say to save this soul?
bid Reaper go on this chill night
that others wait for his call
not this stranger shivering in my arms.

"Hold on my friend, please frustrate
the leap to realms beyond this place
I know they call with deepest balm
this siren call beyond the veil"

I feared my words were hollow shells
cast into the deepest well
lost from sight as gloom progressed
surrounding us with ill intent
once more I rallied forth
not content to say no more
a last proclaim I would extoll
to break the curse taking hold.

"You are loved above all else
by God above and all your friends
turn back the end, this doom you seek
so you and I will meet the dawn"

I'll tell you this in last stanza
I don't know if I was heard
for in that moment the stranger fell
taken down by his own gun
I did not know him very well
but he and I were the same
the end took him as it did me
I was no more by the same shell.

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

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

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

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

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

I'll take another day, accepted as my lot in life
without conviction but to desire, something more beyond the earth
the other realm may be like dreams, still with conflict I must indulge
yet in fight's hope is still kept, while in the waking hope is lost

the fantasy is not enough, escape leads me back
in a realm where blood must flow, a sacrifice to the dark gods
the knives within are enough, to draw the blood from my veins
stain the hands a crimson hue, declaring nature I long to end

another cut that should distract, it's not enough as I drown
reality is still close at hand, the stark reminder of hate within
the monster that none may see, except myself in mirror's face
something I must eradicate before the day finds an end

sadly the calendar turns a page with an interlude inside of sleep
then my malice rises once more, quick to whisper 'never again'.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180718.

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll wear new wings as a lift
to the heights I’d like to fly
a rainbow spread I can’t deny
when my soul takes glad flight

these realms diverge from the norm
when compared to other souls
if the measure is reserved
to the binary most people know

feathers fall to mark the earth
shed now against new growth
arc of color with shades of gray
the wage of age does not dismay

an explorer with intent
to open doors that are denied
if the structures are allowed
to restrict alternatives

a box exploded to include
expansive heights high above
become enough to explore
spectrums spread across the sky

exploring realms as I seek
a definition that finally fits
like the wings I’ll spread wide
finding self in polychrome.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181229.

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.

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 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.

Would mortals dare to ever dream
the visions that make angels weep
normality born of humankind
is not enough to gird the mind

on shores forbidden to the weak
strangeness is not the extreme
instead the masters tempt the fates
knowing rules are theirs to break

twist expectations to exclaim
nothing decent is there to blame
when the board is swept clear
pressing smiles moved to tears

the hourglass will run its course
replace the hours with wickedness
still brave mortals dare to tread
those visions wise ones learn to dread.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191209.

Consent is not just for ***
when intrusion is not checked
pushing past the very walls
meant to protect integrity

at the risk of sanity
a sad victim of disrespect
what’s considered mildly rude
moves into realms that abuse

these boundaries set by privileged folk
from the place of power’s throne
might made right by consequence
of desires that few admit

while protections are instilled
enjoyed within their four walls
then forgotten when applied
to the ones found outside

the very same would be condemned
when meted out to their clan
of violators without regard
for consent outside of bounds.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190712.

“I’m not like the other ones”
says the wounded soul out loud
running from the enemy
throwing bodies in the way

respect is stolen from the whole
in a vain attempt to rise above
the wounding words all around
with no escape, high or low

the phrase is found at sword’s edge
escape is sought from the rage
criticism that makes no sense
yet all are held as nature’s goal

these are words ****** to shield
when a world seeks to judge
what’s been done is in defense
from a place where there’s no win

respect is the crux, the goal sought
sadly we attack ourselves
when it’s not given by the ones
who set the rules that contradict

it is true that we diverge
I’d like say that this is the norm
respect is found in our own space
so let’s reclaim the words’ power.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170722.

I met you and I knew
with no doubt in my mind
a future waited to be had
you were to be the only one
matching parts that would fulfill
questing gaps in my soul

listen to this beseeched rant
uttered once before you go
a message I have weighed
in the dark where thoughts play
between the spaces of pure joy
when you were absent from my world

the reason for this certitude
matters little to my soul
the impossible matters not
the end is the same to me
dark mood consumes me whole
remedy removed from my hands

you would complete me
fill the whole of inner space
puzzle pieces come as one
in life's grand scheme
and now this hole will remain
this vacancy at my core

the thrashing of a wanting heart
grounded wings of fervent love
shaking fists at the divine
knowing you wish to far
this maze of mirrors that frustrate
so close perhaps but now so far

you’ve become unattainable
I’ll speak no more with my words
tears blind my eyes and choke my throat
as intentions tear my heart
leave before I’m totally lost
sincerely the one not meant to be.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181028.

I'm not the one you truly need
when the want becomes a lust
for what’s beyond normality
surrogate sought by the lost

presenting signs pointing up
to the past and future both
with the tenets soaked in blood
bruises black from wheel’s turn

no matter what I seem to say
look away from the pit
even as the sirens wail
from the shoals of whispered pain

there’s wisdom latent in the dark
camouflaged by assumptions
a forecast I must dissuade
unless you wish to lose your way

words conveyed from time’s past
murmurs of significance
should be view with mistrust
if those who lead are still lost

answers become the currency
consider where you may spend
what’s suspect with due warning
I’m not the one you truly need.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180503.

I have a wish not to breathe
cease the toil of hanging on
allow air to fully escape
the vessels providing oxygen

promoting another minute alive
an excuse to linger here
far beyond the desired time
longed for by my broken will

existing beyond the stolid mask
what's revealed is a farce
an effort pressed to conceal
the hall of screams inside my head

where these corridors are confused
the up you see is my down
all the color has been removed
when dreams of doom are pursued

viewing strangers too soon expired
fantasies spring from envy's roots
why they could find what I seek
beyond the realm of respiring's bliss

that apparent joy to be alive
escapes my grasp as I exhale
biding time as ambitions lurk
no longer wishing breath again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180629.

Imagination now rules the day
in the past this was not the case
when I shared all God gave
in pursuit of **** delights
I was the one that had no clothes
my audience watched as I danced
pursuing work that paid the bills
while learning trade as engineer

between the end of class
and my pillow found by sleep
I bared all at Rusty’s side
duo dancers in birthday suits
the dollar bills rained to earth
or were stuffed in parts untoward
fame was mine to embrace
on the stage of college years

you’d wonder why I did not keep
to the path of Magic Mike
XXL could have been sought
instead of twiddling computer bits
the answer is modesty
knowing that I still possess
the tool that pleased an audience
concealing now for decency

I’ll not judge my wanton past
it was delightful, though too short
when the world asked for more
clothes to wear, not to disrobe
perhaps I’ll take up the craft
though many years have gone past
imagination says ‘please no’
make them wonder what’s below.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180317.

Once I had a screaming void
a vacancy that overwhelmed
the otherness on all sides
surrounded by anger’s shoals
echoing rage at life’s wrongs
a million voices all my own
the loneliness was so dark
absorbing light into itself
reflecting back the counterpart

companionship was thought the balm
the fix to all that hurt
injustice vanquished in the end
the champion was at last found
they answered the sirens call
sacrificed the best of life
this vanity became their stand
fighting life on two fronts
slaying demons in endless swarms

the inky depths took a wage
stealing more than their due
while pretending to respond
the battle raged as my hero fought
embracing a contract none should sign
for sanity lost in both of us
realizing too late that victory
was gained at ruin’s prompt
one to save while the other lost

emptiness is now my lot
a vacancy without voice
nor substance found to stand upon
what was a lake is now a line
the old gloom shrunk to a point
so much less than a void
now the blackness has been replaced
the silence there reflects life
only I exist in aftermath.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180610.

****** empowers those who flaunt
the shape imbued by deity
by wide degree that willingness
to express beauty’s form

empowerment becomes the goal
once a choice is expressed
by displaying more or less
skin’s gamut is then blessed

divestment of draped attire
spans the spectrum from slight to all
whether the ankle only shows
or lack of raiment is complete

that span is chosen by the self
society is asked to stand mute
don't suggest what should be
except to honor certitude

the superficial or complete
exhibition is the private trek
played out in public without remorse
rejoice for those who made their choice

skin as sanction to celebrate
costumes bent to serve a will
no longer hiding the natural
****** displaying love of self.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180907.

While there words I’ve yet to use
there are fewer across the years
by writing poems once a day
dribbling out upon my pen
looking forward to much more
in this effort I must find
inspiration to march on
ascribing odes to God’s ears

I find aid in all things
the grains of sands near at hand
dribble through evermore
plumbing depths of my soul
prompts delivered by a world
the good and evil both compete
asking for an equal voice
through fair coverage in my verse

finding faults in dogma’s reign
exclamations made from high
brought to earth on the page
spoke with voice as truth exclaimed
words are feathers on the scale
between the right and the wrong
one seems the other when balanced
in the shadow of rhyme’s turn

humanity struggles on
I’m included in this domain
seeking portents that inform
why I fail and why I fly
still continuing to exist
another poem has been writ
stating less than you’d expect
ascribing odes to God’s ears.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170818.

I asked if I was beautiful
in the form I am entrapped
while seeking forms now estranged
by a nature based on genes

the world rejoined remarks
my choices made to enclose
a body defying norms
when fitting into the gowns

splendour was obscured
lost while it’s explained
a flurry of here and there
combined to share the pith

this goddess lost to sight
hoping some will see the belle
in garments of lady’s shade
glamour of the heart

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181102.

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

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

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

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

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

I'm the king of a distant land
adjacent to those of friends
with one difference I'll point out
it’s the spirits I embrace

filled with ghosts all can see
reality for the rest of them
yet they haunt my waking life
too visible yet still not there

hands extended and then felt
by my fellows and my chums
while only breezes touch my skin
when the same tries to caress

intangible to my dismay
tears more real than coddled love
when the veil becomes too sheer
ephemeral becomes the norm

this royalty sits on a throne
alone with only shadows held
phantoms hover close to mind
while the same is near at hand

perhaps in time I’ll step down
join my friends away from spooks
no longer will the visions haunt
enfold the world when spirits bolt.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171019.