Look to the source to know the heart
as tunes are sorted by desire
by pleasure taken there
or displeasure of the refrains
emotions come in many forms
from spark of joy to anger’s rage
to the latter these lines will look
considering where affections lurk

there are tunes that please the ear
mimic the turmoil felt within
lashing out in mute response
though the intonations of the bard
anger comes in many forms
avenues pursued in course
with direction as the hint
at where violations are commit

to destroy what’s not loved
becomes the anthem of the one
listening with head nods
to the songs full of wrath
something is the root cause
towards which rhythms flow
damning them for the pain
experienced within the frame

some shout against the world
perpetrators circle round
their long knives are rebuffed
by the voice of speaker’s throats
others **** the one inside
finding fault with the life
and in this rage a disregard
is issued instead of love

what is the difference of the two?
actions follow the piper’s tune
both would seek destruction’s end
evoked in words and melodies
one would end other lives
bricks falling by their hand
another only seeks an end
with suicide as the grand plan

neither is the better for
a choice made that most deplore
still the suggestions comfort those
seeking solace in the words
whatever songs may suggest
their end goal is not the best
even though the baseline beat
strums the heart and taps the feet.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190406.

Sorry lover but you can’t look back
to the sheets thrown to the floor
forgotten while bodies press
ghosts lost to passion’s bliss

promises once had a place
fealty against death’s cold hand
the declarations none will admit
when light of day too soon arrives

strong emotions aren’t cast aside
instead replaced with grounded angst
along with rage of what should be
tears spilled on pillows drenched

promises lost along with pride
if only this came to pass
along with advice none request
sorry lover please don’t look back.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190905.

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.

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

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

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

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

Look to the purpose of your life
from the hate or the love
there is a choice to be made
the reason to wake each day
when the balm of sleep arrives
life is reset for a time
only to revisit once again
the vexes that haunt everyone

differences are made all too plain
between yourself and the world
in greater number than most could count
this abuses passion’s stance
the status quo seeks to resist
deviations from a baseline
the norm is sought in each box
look to see there’s more than one

here’s the joke in God’s eye
why she laughs your choice
or is it he, or group of they
the pantheons defy small mankind
destiny in these hands
asks dispute in followers’ stead
variation could be the spice
or deadly poison for all involved

back to purpose of your life
outside of norms and dogma’s angst
hate or love in settlement
where the flag will be set
such resolve is waking’s challenge
from realm of sleep to consciousness
the choice to live is your own
which way to turn is soul’s resolve

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180126.

This span of space asks no due
except to ponder what’s really true
between the panic of the lie
and the path that many try

kings and fools both relent
desiring only to be content
with the outcome few deny
the brilliant source of inner fire

locked behind walls of iron
are the roots of lost desire
inaccessible except for doors
too often confused for floors

moving downward to ascend
the distance traveled has no end
until the passions are finally quelled
when enchantments are dispelled.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200128.

If I could stand as a spark
scant example to like minds
this existing becomes too small
to have some meaning beyond this shell
my slight ember is too weak
to purge the darkness of dire ills
dispassion banished from this plane
is fever dream of dogma's slaves

a mere breeze would be enough
to ***** the vibrance from my life
even as I find my way
shining brighter and still fragile
contrary views are manifest
combining raging tempest winds
with inferno’s appetite
claiming all who choose to fight

against the scourge of normative
intolerant asking for the right
to crush their fears by any means
resulting gloom is victory
half a bubble, if not more
my defiance from the mark
a small candle in these words
inviting other to share their light

the combined will not be squelched
no matter what their urgent wish
tyrants rage when they’re denied
when the stage is shared by all
clustering sparks against our doom
illuminate what many share
celebrate with blinding fire
whose who stand at my side.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180512.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have much to say
beyond the stanza’s meager breadth
those few words can’t reveal
life prescribed beyond the bounds
of staid boxes painted gray
arranged in rows to my dismay
these aren’t enough to contain
expression of identity

some would judge this deviant
normality passed along the way
I hope to shift this certitude
from damnation to something else
perhaps opinion could be shaped
by expression that’s elegant
or just the truth put to voice
stating life beyond their scope

if only poems had this weight
to shift the minds of questioners
those disbelievers set in ways
disallowing variance
until that time I’ll press the words
to the page for comfort’s sake
believing these may convey
shared discord of joint consent.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190702.

I'm staring up at the sky
from a hole six feet down
even while the rest assume
that I'm more than deceased
a harsh word that's still true
ideation has consumed
remnants of a loving life
now only found in living souls

return me to eternal rest
even while my life is hoaxed
sharing space with a world
then waiting for the dirt to fall
the shell resides while I weep
tears transparent on my skin
the drowning have a better chance
to survive beyond the flood

even while I sleep-walk
stagger upright for a time
evoking forms may confuse
when my desires finally fruit
if you chose to turn away
please put the marker on my grave
while I look up at the sky
just one last time as I pass.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190322.

Statements flow on the wire
complete strangers sharing life
whispered honesty on the wind
all too raw for most men
both by picture and by text
sent there by the desperate
I’ll receive them with a heart
heavy with the like ailments

digital voices in their bottles
matched to faces of the past
they’re not the same as the now
it matters not for what’s been done
tableaus of their suffering
echo on my inner shell
not the same but close enough
to resonate inside my head

these are bubbles that some hate
thinking they lock in the hurt
I’ll disagree from my core
it’s really good to see the door
this room now filled by the same
seeing hope and answers both
the latter comes from company
distress conveyed and then heard

knowing that I am not alone
others suffer in this life
the joke of God is spread afar
with statements coming on the wire
those afflicted are still worthy
by their example I’m relieved
that the sharing salves my soul
perhaps one day I’ll do the same.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180311.

To be known has a price
a due given to past works
glittered trinkets that exclaim
where the future may yet lay

these become foundation’s curse
basis given to later worth
even though a fuller breadth
is still there with relevance

expectations become contrite
sorrow given to circumstance
when the outcome does not match
the vision fixed upon the prize

while a range of interests beg
something else to the front
for some time in the stead
of fame’s need to state the day.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190915.

Society asks its due
this refrain is soon renewed
with every pause to cry inside
along with rush of pleasure lost
retain the smile on the outside
smashed to the face to comply
with orders from those above
dictating bliss from sacred books

cherry-picked to maintain
a power structure that will abase
those who struggle to discern
identities outside of norms
please don’t stray lest the gods
become peeved high above
this is imagined in the minds
of the followers pushing lies

"refrain from genders in your head
or ******* for pleasure’s sake"
where these may lead is suspect
violations that **** the rest
for the minority of purity
virtue is their only goal
the majority is instead concerned
with control of the unknown

no matter how the bits may fit
the joy derived is soon condemned
safety put in the same place
best to die than sin again
the prescription is relevant
by a world with prejudice
knowing all while acting less
dictations stating righteousness.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190519.

The knowledge brings me to my knees
(figurative if you please)
still the outcome is the same
no dalliance broached beyond the range
asking only that I comply
obedience best for everyone
this mantra like a drumbeat
the rhythm some choose to ignore

as the gods look down upon
perhaps they don’t after all
it’s all the same when the mark
is doing right by other folk
lines on the ground marking space
explanations none should ignore
dire mutterings that are sourced
from the realm of past retorts

still the whispers will not stop
the other ones that ask too much
a will-o-wisp born of greed
temptation doomed to mislead
demanding that I violate
the framework that protects
these fragile walls that separate
right from wrong at day’s end

imagination is asked to hush
move along in due course
once suggestions have been placed
that **** a soul if pursued
so now I’ll dance at the edge
of that gulf that beckons me
the territory where I once played
before life took what it gave.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181226.

The compassion is evident
in the offering of an ear
to listen to the mutterings
of a soul lost to pain.

commitment made to hear the words
opens doors to new realms
the bizarre in a landscape
foreign to the helping eye

stories spun from bold cloth
can’t be shared in response
by the virtue of too much
or not enough to cover up

the fullest part of the plea
is denied in response
with compassion not to blame
in the face of strange dismay.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190622.

The drip erodes the stranger's bane
removes the taint of ignorance
when a known quantity
resolves to ease aberrant’s breadth
there are others who relate
hiding in the shadow’s depths
wishing someone would announce
kinship by the queerest vibes.

This medicine for society
determined to state a case
by example of the norm
mixed with the alternate
passing is half a gift
also a curse when it binds
acknowledgment with a glance
unfolds the creature two may share.

Dispensed by a known face
senior of so many years
distant enough to be safe
still disclosing strange magic
drawing pictures in the sand
recognized by questing minds
subtle hints that whisper softly
to the ones that strive to hear.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180821.

To belong is the stuff of tribes
by link of blood or sterner stuff
to this mark I would aspire
knowing the odds I would quest

when I am honest in my desires
I seek the same in other souls
not to indulge, only to know
I’m not alone against the world

it’s not that the larger has to hate
though this is the outcome when they confront
the deviant they don’t understanding
(the label their words, a knife they weld)

into this breach my tribe should arrive
if they were one, not cast to the wind
a secret society is more than mold
when smiles and nods move to disclosed

know that this web is my family
a tribe dispersed to the four winds
some of us vocal, the rest in disguise
only revealed to their same kind

to belong is the stuff of tribes
even when hidden from the broad eye
embracing my kin defined by desires
fruits of my search, lifting me up.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170514.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

Surety is now perverted
rational put to the side
when it's twisted to reflect
the fears disguised as the truth

here's the joke, the saddest fact
the table trembles with hard fists
banging with intent so pure
sadly this is God’s prank

free will to scramble round
looking to puddle’s face
wondering who will resolve
the pain inflicted by false calm

the foolish run into the gap
knowing wisdom’s been lost
while they seek to display
the underpinnings have no legs

madness denies certitude
mountains of fact brought to dust
conviction rests in lost valleys
to be trod by jester's feet

lunacy shared by those who heal
pointing away from the puddle's flank
up to the sky the moon shines bright
reflection of the sun's sane light.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171108.

The sun is present by my acts
awaking early in the day
when I stand on the cliff
looking out to earth's rim
too many times the world is blessed
by the selfless effort spent
pleading for the presentation
of this bless illumination.

You may ask how this could be
given my age and history
I'll respond with complete zeal
I'm the cause of morning's glow
the elders came before my birth
performed the same on this rock
and so on by ancestors
serving man so all may live.

There is no need to watch it set
this journey’s sure by God's hand
winding down is surety
setting stage for waking's task
perhaps I do this for myself
knowing this is stage dressing
it matters not as consequence
the sun will rise when I am there.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180305.

To come from faith is a trap
snares woven between the words
took to heart by the sincere
before the mind is lost to fear

there is no telling where a life ends
from conception to the last descent
into madness without escape
surety set against all wills

others are ****** as so entranced
the lockstep standard is applied
wedded to religion’s jest
that ego lost is safety gained

confusion is the monster born
identity turned to flip the tale
where the god stands alone
or is the enemy of common man.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190906.

Another year has passed again
survival met with wishes pressed
in the sea of life’s span
present there to rise again
the currents wishing so much less
than existence bless to thrive

it’s not a given for these souls
to stay afloat among the waves
dark temptations aren't revealed
in the streams few may see
pulling victims into depths
with the hopes first to go

as the oxygen is removed
it’s just as likely a corpse will rise
break the surface to the surprise
of the crowd that gathers round
happy birthday becomes the prize
another year then survived

with intent to carry on
even while the odds seem stacked
congratulate the lucky one
as they plunge into the tidal crush
to flail about above the drag
waiting to cut the silver thread.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190620.

Here is my spectrum
my personal breadth
stating a selfless
for a world to see
offered to all
now you will know
the psyche revealed
against a true scale.

It's not just one
these ranges of spirit
though each has its place
to state who I am
considering identity
desires of the heart
expression presented
each has its walk.

Don't look for a pole
a point set in space
resisting the fluid
instead I'm adrift
the ends of a line
can be a reference
I'll step from these
when I make myself.

Returning to flow
the fluid a term
fluent in life
is how I exist
while I may stay
in place for a time
consider the spectrum
as I swim through life.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170527.

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.

Some may ask if I’m taking space
from the ones that best reflect
what it is to be recognized
with a validity set for sacred gaze
identity defined by the bounds
clearly broken by their narrative

an extreme that none contest
when presented to the whole
these avatars set to illustrate
permission given to claim a prize
while the rest are declared
defective by cold comparison

pretenders to the holy crown
desiring glory not their own
this is the cry from the ones
promoting pride in the extreme
paragons of the standard’s mark
illustrating the desired height

tend the gate through which all pass
before identity is applied
lest the dialogue of the whole
be distracted from the flow
of the deserved hoist above
this lost soul not confirmed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190706.

The holy counted seven
explaining man’s downfall
stacked as wood on the fire
that none dare to disclose
sly source of the vices
the hydra branching out
a monster all embrace
though one head may be king.

Passions are the tendrils
one found fertile ground
an inclination to evil
so say the sacred books
opposite of the virtue
contentment is its name
love invoked by purity
absent in my case.

Dare I share my shadow’s breadth
have you guessed it yet?
the heart that seeks wicked acts
if only in my mind
with fornication as a goal
******* outside of bonds
a harsh name for natural acts
body’s quest to find another one.

The other sins are not absent
we’re only human as molded earth
tainted mortals one and all
each with their own fallen goal
many books may be written
sordid tales upon all men
I’ll add mine to the mix
poetry of the tarnished soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170827.

The tea leaves don't give a hint
while they may state events
they're mum on the greatest truth
why we're friends at day's end
this mystery still defies
the oracles that know all
subscribing to what’s beyond
then puzzled by consequence

the gentle tides and sometimes storms
seemed enough to cast the souls
together on this distant shore
far from the port that was my home
travelers in a foreign land
each learning about themselves
with the aid of passengers
accompanying the wanderer

at last the stage is set
with roles arrange by the script
actors in leading roles
established behind the scenes
look for the director’s hand
with a twist none would expect
when the leaves echo doubt
still the lives are intertwined.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190228.

The revolution spoke in the streets
in long ranks the common walked
with the signs drawn by hand
emotion marked in color’s strokes

demanding shifts by those above
those in power would not budge
when left to their own device
change will not fill their heart

when the power would not bend
the echelons remain in place
there is one way to make them fall
remove the base of their support

numbered by the common folks
standing strong on their feet
transformation from below
tearing down what does not work.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180324.

When tears hover behind the eyes
pushed by sadness that won't stop
even as the sun may shine
that avenue that life provides

survival found outside demise
is merely shuttered against the storm
the world shudders in response
while not knowing the very worst

as the floods are restrained
weeping ****** in the end
a smile is held in response
still the need won't be suppressed

with the statement held in drops
mourning life that all must share
in privacy of eyes held shut
the tears will flow until the end.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190724.

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

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

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

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

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

Consider the ruins that still stand
testimony to craftsmanship
of the labors that came before
by the builders now long gone

with one stone upon the next
scattering low from the high
with the latter fall short
of past phantoms forgot by most

still the testament of origins
invokes the present to construct
these small altars desiring more
while the deity is still a ghost

whispered echoes against low walls
the only remnant that’s still found
with the rest tossed to the ground
stated artistry in the remains.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190814.

The acts I perform in pursuit
of the core of who I truly am
are secondary to what’s behind
franker realms that define

the spectrums direct how I bend
observing beauties in my world
this is a filter for God’s grace
the executed shaded thus

these outward deeds may conflict
with the norms of other folk
even as the source is same
prompting acts they dismay

truest love observes the heart
affections lead the physical
feelings prompting what then trails
affirming passions felt within.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180511.

I remember that fateful day
when I came to the world
stating who I ‘m meant to be
with no doubt of circumstance
the world reacted with no shock
an exclamation that was approved
my statements rang upon their ears
expectations then confirmed

first I said I was a straight
orientation all should have
with desires that did not extend
beyond vanilla curds and whey
longing for the opposite
blessed by holy words inscribed
no confusion about the match
with the slotted plumbing bits

then I said I was a cis
knowing gender was ascribed
by the lady or the lad
with nothing else to be had
identity was sanctified
by the stamp of Eden’s dawn
lasting after tainted fall
binary will carry on

duality has been disclosed
bared to a world that does not care
when the expected is exposed
instead of horrors outside the curve
the normative was my groove
if only all could feel the same
they should take the same risk
to come out as the approved.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181013.

The beast waits deep within
no matter the gender nor the age
demanding a brief release
to feed the hunger felt within
these cravings mock civility
ingrained rules of society
defining who may merge
when the masks are fulfilled

ask the gods why this is
they’ll reply with a grin
it’s not for love or praise
though these part of the play
instead the race must carry on
propagate from two to one
or maybe more on the chance
that nature blesses with the twins

this is rejected by the beast
it cares nothing for the norms
now the breadth of humankind
is seen as fodder for its lust
diversity would satisfy
even though the rules deny
release from wishes deep within
between the legs and in the head

sometimes sated for a time
the eternal in a blink
when the plunge defies depths
touching joy though carnal paths
what seems forever does not last
even though the sheer delights
transcend all measures man beholds
to their dogma in written books

that animal we all behold
wishing nothing but to be fed
within the box or outside
the fiend of passion never sleeps
burn the incense to appease
stimulating to release
once it’s fed the worm will relent
until it stirs to crave again

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181007.

The bees fly through the fields
the birds alight in the trees
with the displaced at the gate
looking at the verdant scene

the time of year is firmly fixed
upon the dial at warm seasons
without admission of the rest
leading up to winter’s breath

delightful colors on petals’ limbs
only feel the sunny heat
the orb above favors them
providing homage to its kin

still the chill is realized
beyond the spread of flower’s realm
asking those who stand outside
to know they’ll never feel the warmth

this envied corner of the bees
denies the company of the gray
longing for the honeyed fields
now only feel a deep dismay

frosty drifts from snowy peaks
causing trees to shrug their leaves
an icy realm beyond the gate
with full sight of the spring.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190111.

How do you talk to the friend
who’s company you may not have
in a day or in a week
if the demons have their say?

communication is not lost
a desire to share the world
instead the cause is forgot
as the chasm opens up

by a gesture or a word
the feather falls on the camel’s back
a thousand fiends have their day
the harvest gained as bones crack

breaking what stood so tall
buffeted by many storms
now reduced to longing thoughts
the mighty tree has finally snapped

the contract that most embrace
assuming life will remain
is revealed as a lie
when the disease is a crime

until that time the die’s not cast
in a world of many paths
communicate in good faith
before a heart finally fails.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190525.

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

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

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

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

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

The changes would invoke
attention to my character
first a glance and then more
reacting to the nature shown
the hair does not define
identity of the whole
nor does the fabric worn
on the flesh now its home

we are so much more
than sad boxes to be escaped
cheered on by the thoughts below
the fashion helps to heal the wounds
this estimate of the effect
is mine to gauge as the rest
offer thoughts in their minds
sometimes stating the same out loud

depending on the life shared
elements are brought forth
the same occurs across the aisle
to inform the travelers
these attempts to adjust
a relationship with the world
contradict the wisdom grasped
that change within is enough.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190303.

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

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

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

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

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

Exploration of the unknown
plumbing depths once concealed
was the passion of the past
shown in displays few surpassed

the cavalcade without demure
exclaimed out loud for all to hear
has fallen quiet once the task
was completed with ends to last

those changes are now internalized
known to self in full resolve
even while the world decides
to disagree with pointed knives

it's no wonder the response
a retreat from consequence
includes identity's detour
to the closet of the before.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191028.

Midnight’s edge is my friend
confidant I’ll not betray
holding secrets none shall know
if my ally is kept mute

not a lover, more than a friend
bless satellite I’ll hold dear
I know the sibling is removed
a surrogate is near at hand

behind the clouds that confuse
none may guess who they are
dreams are private in the mind
wisps that hide in sleep’s domain

seeker stalking what’s beyond
intimate is not the goal
unless the treasure is held bare
put to the hand before the eyes

still the orb pins the sky
darkened cotton in foreground
while the background is my goal
questing riddles of the mind

midnight will hold my trust
a path I’ll walk before sunrise
until that time I will commit
to the companion none may see.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170901.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What's been lost cannot be found
though it may lurk in plain sight
when the tumble down the hill
results in grace torn to shreds
we're all human in the end
these digressions are the norm
seeking wounds will only end
with a fall to deepest pits

it's the freak that stands above
without the skeletons duly hid
those slips of will in anger's course
or lust embraced instead of trust
pity their soul until the time
their turn is taken to devolve
because the low road calls to all
the quick drop from Heaven's peak

it's all fair in love and war
we tell ourselves as bullets fly
indiscretion met with same
indignation through carnal strife
mix the two with sure knowledge
there are no saints in the end
only wounded of pained degrees
seeking payback none shall have

sympathy will cut both ways
when the mud covers all
there are no winners in the end
even the Devil pities men
it's no wonder there are few
with white wings of angel kin
standing on hills above the rest
the high ground few will retain.

The door is opened
the invite extended
still a reluctance
may stay the hand

an apple awaits
the dear traveler
that hope once forgotten
now in form of the fruit

the miles have passed
under the feet
with bridges burnt
and more still complete

the gatekeeper stands
holding the check
allowing free passage
with heavy price

the due will be asked
in so many years
by toils then endured
and dreams grasped at last

roses and cream
beyond the threshold
an invite received
a life then made whole.

2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190217.

The fall is tied to the climb
so say the pundits that dissuade
those who strive to move beyond
the safety of the middle ground
not too high and not too low
then the sadness will stay away

happiness and greatest lost
are left to others in disgust
never feeling beyond the fade
just enough to carry on
seems for the best in response
to the troubles outside the door

hiding paths far from sight
temptation gets the best of all
when the need speaks is revealed
for something more than tranquility
shadows kept around the heart
eternal fog that cloaks the tear

keeping others from coming near
lest the troubles return again
this is known with the heart
avoiding hurt to pain's retort
those heights are too much
when describing false delights.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190628.