Who will bury the fallen ones
when the monsters gather round?
the streets are empty except for those
with intents seeking blood
behind the masques of ill intent
sporting smiles with straight teeth
and the taint of make-believe

chosen targets are seduced
the balm of comfort before the cut
seduction offered for the chance
to remove the loathsome ones
with one hand to stroke a back
selecting space to sink a sword
or the head held in reverence
before the last shot is then heard

the allies linger at the edge
or their bodies lay in the grave
considered to be equally bad
to the enemy with ****** knives
these are sharpened on perished souls
lost in the battle to survive
blood as oil to hone an edge
then turn around to the hunt again

in the end the uniforms
glitter brightly in the sun
testament to the sacred work
walk the streets with this reply
“please ignore the fallen ones
there is no one to bury them
humanity lost before it won
the monsters turned out to be us.”

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190103.

The fall exists as part of life
a welcome dip from the climb
asking nothing for itself
while gravity seeks a result

angels cry for the descent
without assisting by their wings
because they know inner truths
a wish granted to the accused

reminder of the consequence
or perhaps the last request
for something less than heights
still cursed at the best of times

when the less becomes the whole
contingent on a life extolled
the end result may be the lapse
declaring nothing except the end

the substitution has been set
low for high without regret
banking on the impact’s touch
to caress away the storm

now life has been resolved
collision granting more than love
the nightmare left to only dream
of valleys found within the peace.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190420.

Benevolence becomes the fanciful
fawned goodwill without price
a myth pursued but never found
pain mistook for sunshine
these lies projected to collect
power gained by those who lie

told by those who were not there
lobbyists with a bullhorn
propagandists of selfishness
invoicing charity to imbue
bank accounts outside of cheer
only cynics would rejoice

the calming smile hides the knife
held out of sight just in case
the doom is spotted by the dolts
look to the leer of friendship
favor given for all to view
while suffering pays the bills

self-sacrifice is assumed
anticipated from the rich
forget this fib if you’re sane
generosity is still there
taxing blood from the stones
this is the truth when fiction fails.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180914.

I start the morning with a mask
put on my face at dawn’s edge
it will stay until I sleep
in the lair of my retreat

the one chosen does depend
on the tasks near at hand
the high or low call my name
both are part of the divine

**** or saint, perhaps both
sides of a coin that may be flipped
while in the air both exist
the telling comes with experience

if you wink they that may change
first the holy and then the sin
each is satisfaction’s quest
feeding souls or damning them

it all depends on appetites
emotion’s draw to either side
feeding at the trough of life
satisfaction is the result

you’ll see the frown or the grin
etched on my mask to relay
how I wish for you to see
the day embraced, the fiend I’ll be.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170909.

The imposter forgets the first time
their start lost from memory
gone behind the veil of time
that opening of the present lies
truth abandoned may have yelled
exclaimed injustice as an affront
looking to the whole conscience
for redress to the new harm

look to the mentors of the lie
tutors of deception’s trait
providing guidance to ensure
misstatement is the verity
permission given to fabricate
reliance on the dark arts
with spin as the least of sins
as deceit becomes the norm

perhaps the babe had a chance
that innocent was lost alas
when the falsehoods did not stop
fiction became the certitude
now days have darkly blurred
so many times the untruths were spun
until the facts became misplaced
in yesteryear of the bygone.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180812.

If life is a river
consider its source
mouth of the substance
is divorced from its course

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

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

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

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200105.

The wise man is short lived
embodied in my poetry
even as I strive to give
something towards wisdom’s gain
simple truths are exclaimed
with a voice sometimes shrill
when the statements may offend
those who hide in fiction’s bliss

the fool intrudes upon the scene
stating words that compliment
the intellect of savant's feet
brought to jokes in aftermath
evocations by the clown
attempt to flee from sad frowns
even as the wrongs are sourced
from their hand and not the world

thoughts are drafted that intrude
upon the sanity of the abused
still embrace the steady head
waiting at the final pass
these two souls are as one
a coin flipped head to tail
what’s been said is all true
don't blame the sage if you're confused.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190506.

Beauty snares the supplicants
supping at the poisoned fount
far too late the trap is sprung
as the victims seek for more
there is a story behind the tears
as the mind is turned against
those who follow far behind
also led to toast their chains.

Infancy came with the charge
to walk a path none few would have
after life has savaged them
still the young are brought within
arrayed by surface symmetry
determination is then made
by a world that consumes
with no thought of consequence.

Once the gate has closed behind
those deluded by the charm
run the conveyor with no end
chasing comely will-o-wisps
what came before is soon lost
as the years impose their price
whispering promises falling short
wisdom comes far too late.

Empowerment of the young
a promise made for betterment
becomes the bitter manacles
when the lie is revealed
if only death was an end
once the curse is disclosed
instead the living carry on
to bring fresh beauty to the fount.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180402.

Fear is the friend to all men
with one like that there is no need
for enemies that propagate
from the trigger releasing fear

prompting action from the crowd
splitting off with their own signs
“down with that”, “beware of this”
cleaving life down battle lines

into to this I find my place
with concerns near to my heart
describing dangers that I see
when the hurt extends its claws

the minor slights are much more
when they punch to my core
conversations meant to josh
expose the knives that will cut

back to this friend I introduced
the one that prompts reaction’s ire
statements mean to draw the lines
instead they wreck the innocent

this is the trap that I dodge
to protect those of same cloth
while remembering that all fear
sad reactions to this friend

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170723.

The dose must be consumed
says the criminal to themselves
judged guilty by desires
if only in their questing mind

that gateway to the beyond
one teaspoon at a time
or the shot finding flesh
injection made without regret

a need to shift the world
a bubble pushed to the left
underneath clasping glass
seeking freedom few will have

offering promises that are kept
unlike the prison of the world
arms wrapped to the back
dungeon of the normative

if the masters realize
the fugist found another life
slipped beyond to secret paths
the medicine would be denied

the end result becomes a cloak
hiding transgression beneath the cloth
squirming with a fervent life
that the accused must surely hide.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190320.

The game was rigged from the start
if times spanned are a start
assuring all will be conned
to play along as if lulled
this was the theory of the top
steadfast in their beliefs
now wondering why the calm is broke
as the tremors are perceived

'why rock the boat?' is their reply
to anguished screams from below
begun as whimpers beneath a gag
now fully voiced in aftermath
a thousand injured in the forefront
with a million close behind
each with a tale of their own
tragedy mounted against the crown

still the kings are sanguine
nothing changed at the end
this desire to stand upright
while the structure begins to shake
countless hands grip the beams
wishing only to topple them
bring the tyrants to their knees
for abuses they'll not admit

excuses tossed as a last defense
declarations of false intent
pretending to know innocence
as blood stains guilty hands
vanquished at long last
their victims take the stage
warning others to not ascend
lest this fate recur again

now the game has been renewed
the small hopes are disabused
as new tyrants build their spires
regardless of what has lapsed
perhaps one day these to will fall
if lessons are kept close to heart
nobody is above the law
when castles topple to the ground.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190518.

The ghosts are there
as you will see
now tangible
to sympathies
proclivities
awaken them
to dance along
the bona fide

now memories
evoke specters
reality
beyond their grasp
still they seek
satisfaction
while still knowing
none shall be found

just turn away
lest hope deludes
the questing ones
without small hope
it's for the best
that life dissuades
them from the goal
of being real

before too long
the haunt will fade
without support
from living souls
then on that day
the gods will laugh
another senior
put in their place.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190131.

Mortality is the greatest boon
to those who reason the future's course
firm in the knowledge they'll be gone
when disaster comes flying home

to sleep with the ease of babes
no worries present on the mind
this is the gift of dying soon
laying down before the doom

the money palmed is enough
down-payment on the graves
not yet dug in grieving earth
that will come at decade's time

this currency dipped in blood
bright enough to raise alarm
still the merchants will complete
a barter made by blind decree

allegiances of the short term
handmaid to the monster's birth
are the mark assigned to Cain
now embossed to their shame

they'll expire before the bill
is called due by the earth
**** their bones in aftermath
when the outcomes are beheld.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190601.

I shunned the spirits now departed
denied their right to exist
spoke to the mirror with righteous ire
there is no such thing as ghosts
whispers from the edge of sight
deny the mantra I'll repeat
no matter how I spend my breath
the evidence denies the rant

curtains cloak the tall windows
the past portal of light's entrance
when they're opened I view a world
filled by fog of somber gray
the garden paths where I walked
circle back to stolid doors
the only way to return within
while the gates to the outside are barred

lighting the candles against the dark
denying space for lingering wraiths
chasing specters with feeble flame
even as I dread the truth
still the shadows fill the room
meeting mine as lovers would
hinting knowledge I dare to speak
lest I admit my life has ebbed

the departed have their realm
with the unhappy not yet passed
mirror of the living state
existing behind the veil of death
so many years have progressed
I've been lost in certainty
now I know the time has come
to realize that I'm the haunt.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180212.

I’ll bend the stated normative
illustrate where life may twist
when staid measures no longer hold
to behaviors close to my heart

these deviations that bear no malice
instead they are instinctive actions
this honesty I’ll not regret
if just one person comprehends

an illustration for all to view
center stage with little hype
as the outlier is of the tribe
familiarity outweighs the freak

when the extremes become standard
capitulation is the result
acceptance spurred by the loop
exotic turned into routine

divergence granted for the crowd
while acting as balm to the soul
the normative is then transformed
to include the heretic.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181220.

Look to beauty for a clue
of what the heart would pursue
outside of masks that conceal
longing for an open field
the fences ring the dandelions
along with daisies blooming wild

those flowers echo apologies
for the barriers they live within
violets ask for a reprieve
the same intent inside of me
they are the rebels of the crowd
whispering truths far too loud

these are the secrets of the stars
the first is last after all
beauty found in purple hues
it’s enough to convince
the lost outside the high fence
the seekers of true consequence.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190304.

The ice seems ten feet deep
in the midst of winter’s chill
with a promise all is well
before the cracks are revealed

the darkest depths await beneath
always there outside of sight
all too close if truth is known
regarding strength now foretold

scant inches are the mark
a lack of support now disguised
instead of thickness most enjoy
when striding about their lives

a truer measure of the heart
is the peril now close by
than impressions of the mask
denying all till aftermath

peril waits for the fall
dropping down into the depths
most often hidden from the view
from the ones that could console

when the cracks open up
support is lost in the end
that quiet doom near at hand
finally taking the innocent.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190528.

I ask too much of the world
for the truth to be revealed
kept on the surface for me to see

instead it hides down below
waiting to bite as serpents would
from the box that hides their kind

if only I could be ignorant
not knowing the darkness laid within
how life's companions may attack

to see this creature underneath
robs me of my ease of mind
creates defenses I can't take down

now the world has been transformed
the surface is not my friend
when I know soul’s dark content

as they believe they’re concealed
submerged beneath their disguise
I’ll not fall for the deceit.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171120.

I’ll lay with the demons
imps from the fold
to ask them their names
then hear the tales told
there lay the truths
narration of pain
absent the lies
that comfort may bring

words etched in flesh
to bring the warmth
the sting is a balm
absent the cold
the flames of the pit
defrost my heart
when sibyl tongues
attract their own kind

I’ll count myself
among this fae crowd
lending my body
as parchment drawn on
the most private of words
in arms of the fiends
is counted as gospel
when names are exclaimed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190212.

The headstones mark the homes
of those who have left this world
even as they still exist
with the semblance of mortal life
now their tombs hoard the dark
like the miser storing gold

there was a time for death
putting aside the painful parts
sadly the sum may hold life
away from the prying light
asking bones move about
when ashes hold their fire

what's thought dead will remain
in the cold comfort of the grave
unless the spark is given hope
when the lid is opened up
allowing something more than grief
beyond the press of misery.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190114.

Between the choice of dawn’s light
and the judgment of the dusk
lay the affairs that resolve
to decide a future morn

failures spun from the same cloth
as success that draws the likes
ask only for an equal nod
acknowledgment of two paths

the low road is passion’s place
little better than prevailing heights
where the mind consumes itself
in the **** of certitude

the lessons learned or pain dodged
provide a map that describes
the journey taken separately
from destinations preordained

avoiding landmarks based on lies
while they’re truths in the large
are the fallacies that choice precludes
while moving towards the edge of night.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181019.

The lens through with we view
is all that we may see
beware the end result
lest a villain stand by your side

please believe the world that’s seen
is much larger than we think
the scope will quickly shrink
with the impact of the mind

this doesn’t mean the others go
as inconvenient as this may be
when desires flow from the heart
outside the realm of empathy

the baby is put out of sight
with the bath water it will go
when only liquid must be expelled
regardless of what there may float

focus reduces the size of the world
walls are meant to keep them out
block the sight of unwashed ones
the stated deviants and criminals

the Devil is held as confidant
even if he is obscured from sight
not because he’s put aside
only because his place is denied.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170906.

The L word leaped to mind
with no bidding to reply
to the pondering near at hand

prompted by a photograph
pixels waiting to betray
the quiet heart with dismay

this unexpected evidence
complicated beyond belief
is a desire I'd reproach

if only feelings were absent
I'd relish the soothing void
not disrupted by Cupid's bow

this distraction is a farce
the object stated out of reach
by the decades or relationship

still the L word leaps to mind
embracing 'yes' when I prompt
this reply should leave my life.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180815.

The mirror showed another face
beauty hidden is now revealed
with a sharp contrast to the old
it’s still me after all
tint diverged from my own
with the gender close behind

each a difference I can’t dispute
as my heart was resolute
to convince a larger world
convey an image now my own
a transformation I can’t ignore
with outward to be observed

this was a symbol of myself
comeliness now expressed
asking for consciousness
of potential I could express.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190214.

They wondered if the monster had vanished
vacated it's lair, slinked to another place
there are days when this seems to be the case
hope eternal in face of a peril not yet gone

others did not know of the creature's curse
so well hidden to the face of common folk
or perhaps their lives mattered more
than a soul possessed by a beast's desires

past sightings had alarmed the village
with omens that set the church bell ringing
doom promised when none had come to pass
a grateful sigh sprung to the collective lips

funeral pyres built on the green grass
coals readied for use to start the blaze
waiting for the match held by devil
the one that dwells within holy halls

the caring hearts have been moved to action
mounting campaigns to hold the beast at bay
so many battles fought with cold comfort
when the war extends beyond will to care

the trove of gold is still its to guard
with jealously that few would believe
a lifetime stacked behind the fiend
with intent to destroy with no regret

the monster is still in residence
sequestered until the end of times
prayers sent to God to hold its hand
longing to be set upon the world.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170501.

It's off to the dance
this fashionable guy
to rock what others will not wear

no more jeans down below
I'll leave the dockers
mere pants are not enough

forget the artsy t
and the pola shirt
I'll find another top!

put me in my man-skirt
perhaps the elephant pants
I'll bend the masculine

my dance shoes won't go outside
fresh from their sacred box
even if they don't match

perhaps I'll go dapper
with jacket, vest, and top hat
never mind the cane, it's extraneous

even a one-piece may be worn
RompHim is the brand
pink with poka-dots

I'll share where I will not go
forget Borat, that fashion *****
a mankini will not grace my decor

now the dance has seen it all
I'm the most fashionable
rocking what others will not wear.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170517.

The words provoked more than thought
in the prompt of stanza’s lines
or the rhyme of song’s refrain
one has comfort of the tune
the pair invoke the lyrical
regard power in the words

both share a form that provokes
desires both pure and far less so
speaking to the appetites
triggers stroked in syllables
perhaps purposed by the bard
to solicit the yearning urge

these hungers ask to be resolved
once commenced there is a yen
to be resolved before the end
few may deny if they try
that innerscapes now resound
with the cravings found inside

passions for the greed of life
once disallowed are made plain
on the page or by the ear
in the end the muse will ask
nothing less than siren’s call
to be answered by the crowd.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181015.

Please excuse the normative
absent of *******’s stain
perhaps confusion should be shed
chase perfection from your head
the first glance may soon fail
if survival steps aside
admitting strangers to review
the honesty behind the mask.

Perhaps illusion is for the best
maintaining peace instead of self
while the spectrums ask their due
those aspects scream with neglect
denial traded to the Kings
for acceptance at their feet
now the straw has been dropped
on the top of camel’s back.

First the shallow is assumed
orientation checked with a glance
looking for one of two poles
the same for gender from the heart
the gaps are filled with prejudice
that type that sees what it will
while in between truth is found
separate from their biased views.

So much more awaits beyond
depravity in each mind’s eye
a proper measure may extend
to the depths we all have
passing beyond partisan
the shade acknowledged as unfair
to the bliss of ownership
what’s inside becomes the norm.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180920.

Excuse me if my words cut deep
when the lines were meant to *****
the conscience sleeping down below
slumbering while a world drowned
I'll lean into the ****
asking for the next few minutes
long enough to read the text
a poem's reflection of your soul.

The slash draws red upon the skin
this is the color shared by all
reminder of the liquid shared
crimson base below gold threads
yet still the colors are confused
gold leads to silver, then to green
imagining reality where none should be
if caring is for the fellow man.

What is the measure for your charge
dictation of what comes before?
all things aligned, in their time done
something's first, the highest goal
expectations writ to book's pages
the clink of coin in a purse
comfort gained, never lost
these are the gild some have lost.

It's fine to stand on the tall hill
until the winds carries the screams
from the eddies below the perch
writhe the sinners of your mind
they are not lesser than your idols
specifically yourself in mirror's frame
blessed by a god you only see
perhaps it's your image you embrace.

Ivory towers with lone residents
fortunates seek the frosty air
with no taint by the lost
drifting up from hell's domain
the stench is scattered by money's breeze
the hurricane that lifts the boats
to a shore that few should see
shared disaster seen as reprieve.

When red is ocean's hue
my words seek to disabuse
those with skin too thick to feel
with images from the other world
when red is spilled at time's course
no matter how remote a life became
I hope my words found a place
to be considered before the end.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170512.

As fragile as the passing breeze
words are cast to disappear
still I take sure comfort
creation is my genesis

transformation few may see
I’ll pursue in revelry
of sanity found in a phrase
turned to mad utterance

tossed into the hurricane
lost among the blown debris
still I bend to muse’s wish
to generate a daily breath

life assures that all is hid
beneath the layers of poet’s craft
this tidal wave of poetry
cresting over my meager speech

to that end I’ll put aside
the need for fame’s cold hand
asking more than I can give
while I struggle to remain alive

thoughts that wander are not lost
like mist dispersed in morning light
there are still memories
forever written in life’s dream

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180518.

I imagined the perfect poem
rich with rhyming in the verse
stating contents of my heart
torn from flesh to paper’s face
the words would dance on the tongue
reciting wisdom of the muse
this fount I’ll not claim as my own
flowing freely from the pen

this is the dream I chase each day
seeking heights of excellence
with the tools from the bard
implemented with sad regard
practice makes for more good
tumbled right on top of self
witness how much I struggle
mambo dogface to the banana patch

words with meaning escape my grasp
as I quote the great Steve Martin
he was a god among the mortals
describing smoking of the ***
my poor attempts to pin words down
demand attempts to try once more
on each day the sun will rise
again I’ll scribble utterance

in this space I’ll express
the full spectrum of who I am
with no fear of who may see
the good or bad with ugliness
because a life has its quirks
waiting for the poetic twist
conjuration of highest order
a perfect poem found at last.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180408.

I suffer in the perfect world
where the cogs turn easily
prompted by those who clearly state
how arrangements ought to be

clarity springs from dogma's mouth
handed out by wise men
then carried out by dedicates
exacting rightness at scourge's end

the whip will bite those who fail
held by those with holy grace
fallen souls that anoint
the thirsty ground longing more

the vicars point the pious way
down hallowed ways with no dust
oh so eager to convey
how my virtue may be saved

I’ll ignore their sly glee
a quick smile at misery
for these soldiers are sacrosanct
set on their mission by holy writ

declarations become my grave
to house my body six feet down
surety has been restored
with the blemish now removed

expel me from the perfect world
my blemishes are proof enough
if the glory will be mine
a quick end is justified.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180316.

Look to history to know the tale
the sum of what came before
when a single act can't explain
the reaction from the crowd
the slight should not enact
cries of anger then expressed
except when the breadth is seen
of the pain the wounds inflict

the pinprick made in jest
or the statement meant to quip
both convey so much more
than  thoughts may account
assumptions miss the mark
to detriments of the ghosts
those that walked the twisted trails
tracking back to hurt once veiled

these revenants doubt intent
of the one that walks their grave
demanding blood for trespass
with damnations few contend
the past has more to say
than all the mutterings that explain
transgressions made by fools
with knives turned back to wound.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190422.

The platform is ever smaller
each passing day the winds erode
my perch of sanity
still my smile defies the breeze

that false display that tempts fate
assuring all that life is right
while I scramble to maintain
purchase on this living frame

I'd hope to stay above
scramble with the help of friends
while shrinkage will consume
regardless of hope they extend

it matters not in the all
people struggle with their own
burdens distract from the one
on the platform that's now gone

all that's left is the plunge
into the space beyond all joy
leading with a smile
falling beyond life's space.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180918.

The poet’s page demands results
words submitted in due course
on a theme that resounds
with their souls and their hearts

into this space I grasp at dust
sift through the dunes of my mind
seeking more than I will find
epiphanies escape searching rhymes

poignant lines sublimely stacked
in groups of four more or less
upon each other in pursuit
looping round in stanza’s bliss

this construction becomes a fraud
a framework only without resolve
to ordain itself with more
than ******* churned in empty prose

a foundation ordained by God
or stolen by the might foe
sustains the gospel of the muse
stamped with dogma of deepest doubt

wishful plans that fall so short
when no deity will pay heed
to the twaddle of fool’s discourse
drivel stated and not ‘the word’

these proclamations to all who read
worthy of tomorrow’s dreams
will echo loudly to the fates
exclaiming paths of destiny

lastly consider the substitute
forgotten before the day concludes
this is what I’ve put to page
all to the outcome of my dismay.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181125.

I'll stoop to be a noun
if the reference will resound
with others seeking truth
found by words applied without
these labels hold a tainted
asking more than they give
except when the need does arise
to educate a larger crowd

otherwise the labels taint
the person I’d like to be
with a shadow that extends
into the realms that came before
dragging the tendencies
for verbal unpleasantness
look to the reasons why
they were vilified

pioneering adventurers
walked paths now obscured
with trials that few have seen
on this side of history
still their experience
the shoulders of giants
instructs their descendants
to worse that life presents

bravery is the illusion sent
when the word are cast
to change the aftermath
demands that I commit
confirming what’s been told
experienced along the way
now that I’m the pioneer
with good and bad to share.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190301.

In the mirror of my friends
the truer portrait is revealed
of the one I’d like to be
and not the wreck of self-esteem

when I allow them to draw near
it’s made plain that I have worth
not in dollars that may be spent
instead in treasures of the heart

flaws are the norm in human form
this is acknowledged to be true
these are less than beauty’s count
I see echoed in their eyes

the reflections are not the same
across the breadth of who they know
to be cherished in special ways
unlike all others, each their own

in these mirrors I hope to find
the sum of love outwardly felt
so I may take this inwardly
find my reasons to carry on.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170715.

‘To each their own’ is the refrain
stated for both right and wrong
bring together the scattered chaff
and separate those who belong
the former is for the best
while the latter is evil’s bane

so many people need to know
there are others now similar
the softest voices are denied
ability to find like kind
while the masses have a say
screaming statements of dismay

‘to each their own’ is the refrain
pursued in lieu of loneliness
now the channels have been cleared
to allow the minority to convene
exchanging statements of support
for the scattered across the globe.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190609.

There is a line to be crossed
when kind remarks turn to lust
moving towards the opposite
of compliments dearly sought
civility is put aside
for the chance of lewd lust
already present in the heart
brought to view by an outside voice

sadly noting the fixed parts
appearance set long ago
into a package that dissuades
comments made outside of bounds
when the words state passion’s bloom
arousal none would desire
outside the voice now condemned
to be a creep in the aftermath

the pleasure taken is an abuse
a violation that acclaims
when ownership is desired
to feed the **** excite the mind
steer away from this line
even if the desire is strong
keep this all to yourself
the world deserves nothing less.



© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190508.

There is a secret this life conceals
behind the rush of harsh travails
with the decisions made in haste
best laid plans sure to fail
change is all we have to grasp
when the day moves to night
rest may come to some men
before the cycle begins again.

Serenity is the precious gift
received by self when life submits
to those things that will not shift
even when effort is manifest
it’s not that will is too weak
or that justice is ignored
instead consider the universe
has other plans to be fulfilled.

Courage on the other hand
musters forth when needed most
remedy for ills of man
savior to the trampled ones
though the effort may be hard
easy is the Devil's child
when the saints ask for more
as the shifts demand effort.

Here is the puzzle I mentioned
the secret sauce to next action
knowing when to stand aside
or when to jump to shift the world
wisdom is that question mark
or better yet, the answer said
to know the difference between the two
this is God's gift to those who hear.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170602.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The price that’s paid has a due
survival is the golden rule
persisting here another day
the end of times then delayed

this seems simplistic at first glance
until the rules deny the chance
to determine the here and there
that society deems to declare

attractiveness damns everyone
but there are those that lies enclose
stating how they’re meant to live
by virtue of what they give

pretty is spun to be a rent
with existence as consequence
deny this price if the bill
is presented against your will.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200402.

There's hope that dawn can proceed
the coming of the enemy
a destination without light
damning those who cannot fight

to find the start of a day
that hopeful spark seems delayed
when the sun is seen to climb
now distant from the troubled mind

the peak of dusk must be climbed
with chasms on the other side
blackness found is despair’s lure
leading some to disappear

the rest aspire to carry on
find a reason to meet the dawn
it lays beyond twilight’s realm
gateway past the sad goodbyes.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200115.

The vile is compared to the best
this turn of word to express
exaltation none shall deny
against the **** that's always foul

the very worse stated there
imagined vice in duress
while paragons with halos set
are the home team without regret

punching at the straw man's breast
damning sins that don’t exist
the result is simplified
as ill thoughts are justified

contrasting with a cardboard form
exemplary in biased thoughts
the very worse against the best
there’s no truth in this contest.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190922.

I drew the map to reveal
consequence of the years
representing the result
of a track across strange lands
look to the dustbin of the past
to see the sketch I put aside
now the diagram fully accounts
for the blend that is my own

the journey seemed per-ordained
tradition asked for its due
requested template as a plan
the rails were laid by others’ hands
this declaration instructed me
a legend asking acquiesce
to the standards forever set
for the bearings and self hood

the north arrow pointed up
orientation normalized
towards the heavens of the saints
the forefather’s high mandate
there were rebels offering choice
on the sidelines of path well worn
I turned the pointer to instruct
the choice made for some of both

the citations came through chants
mantras stated once a week
these obliged me to genuflect
explanations filled my head
I sought to state another course
the source achieved through Ram Dass
look to the East instead of West
if you seek my religious source

the last came in latter years
a title put to gender’s stamp
the binary giving ground
relenting under dreams’ advance
direction took a turning twist
yet there I found my destiny
not without company
the map complete in its remake

now you see the end result
though large parts are still blank
discovery will by my guide
to pen the rest before I die
complete with notes scribbled in
‘there be monsters lurking there’
I’ll not worry because I know
the journey is the road I’ll show.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180623.

The ruined wheel sadly turns
single minded in its reserve
to cross a land few explore
lest the taint take a life
when existence is enough
to **** a soul without a trial
the evidence is long assumed
against the doom of certitude

too long grown from the spores
cast to ground by ignorance
growing long by circumstance
that nothing else shares this grace
fear compounded with the dread
only found in sacred books
when denial is the norm
of existence beyond the fold

still the circle must roll around
seeking peace from the crowd
even while the trumpets warn
of the gloom that could befall
those very few that are cursed
to sustain lest they expire
this journey of the ruined wheel
with many miles yet to turn.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190710.

The rumors hint of *******
pursued by a joyous world
interactions pressed to flesh
while the actors are undressed

these plays enacted outside of scene
while on the stage close to hand
the opposite is fated as if in jest
with soliloquy the only script

liaisons of the distant past
evoke the memories that surpass
the dusty platters supped instead
in the emptiness of the day

still hearing tales of contact
coitus taken with longing gasps
even as this listener seeks
to state the rumors when they speak.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191103.

The sacrifice must be made
the blood spilled to mark the day
lest the gods both good and bad
feel unwanted by mere man

deities remain steadfast
when attention turns to them
by the edge of cutting knife
or the coin from the purse

a gentle shower is not enough
be it crimson or made of gold
when attentions must surely flow
stating purpose from the soul

lives laid down in consequence
by believers or the lost
the latter being enemies
now made worthy in their ends

all this done in name of greed
for squalid treasures near at hand
enough to fill a million chests
these are the boon of all transgress

so ask for blessings both low and high
knowing gods have their price
the sacrifice made today
will coat the hands of deity.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190121.

The screams fade over time
echoes fading at long last
leaving questions when hush presides
answers worse than what came before
stillness becomes the mute horror
instilling panic instead of hope
when the unknown is recognized
as the outcome hides from sight

perhaps deafness is to blame
hearing shattered by the sound
the unholy shrieking was enough
to make silent what should be heard
the vibrations still persist
an earthquake stated when tones fail
all too soon the world will break
with ears blinded to suffering

a worse fate awaits the ******
surrounded by ten thousand yards
walls beholden to no sound
impenetrable barriers without resolve
the casket buried six feet down
a resting place without compare
allows contact that’s denied
when solitude denies rapport

lastly the deepest hush
is the phantom when hearing works
statements made are ignored
when the hardness settles in the heart
hard-of-hearing is more kind
or even exile would be a choice
if dispassion becomes the norm
as the screams continue on.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181129.

These assumptions made for sanity
lest the madness find a place
already present in small part
awaits for reason to depart

scraps snatched to satisfy
crumbs sustaining vacant calm
while the storms may conspire
outside the window of the mind

curtains drawn as consequence
otherwise the world would bend
tumble down as gaps appear
expose the farce that all fear

warped to test belief in God
for lies then resolved
assumptions gathered are no more
now cast aside as madness grows.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191023.