To fully fly would be a joy
leave this earth where I’m stuck
elevation by any means
becomes the greatest of all needs
this fondest wish is distressed
by the pull of nervousness
that pain is all that I’ll receive
firmly tied to sad dreams

the many snares of the self
taunts of worth that demean
one or another is enough
to reduce the strong as consequence
now multiplying in delight
a thousand cackles I’ll deny
finding strength to overcome
chains evoked from cold resolve

compounded by winds of time
a tempest asking far too much
if only life did not conspire
as the breeze becomes a storm
denying youth even as
pain is gifted to body’s span
as the memories are tossed about
in the cyclone of inner doubt

to those ends the sky awaits
by helpful drugs or risque ways
put aside the judging looks
when sanity finds a relief
both deliver for a time
supplying wings to lift clay feet
before the earth reclaims the one
that escapes to fly above.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190529.

When business becomes all things
center of the life becomes a task

duty holds the void back
from consuming the drowning man
a fetal curl through spreadsheets
comfort found in numerical bliss

equations stated that have worth
beyond the wreck of the real life
numbers hiding the surrender's prompt
nothing more will be joy’s source

when the heart has lost all hope
the last resort is the job
accepting that only work
will bring the balm to retire

when this fails the end will come
termination from the toil's resolve.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180702.

To **** a monster is an affair
most avoid lest they fail
when mortality does not last
if the injury is by the like
humanity becomes the key
to find the flaw beneath shield
lending knowledge through frailty
to be the least is victory

weakness flaunted as if to taunt
something more than humanness
a greater strength shown in teeth
claws flexing to rend the flesh
please hold fast to the soul
lest the outcome is foretold
consumption sought by enemies
lay in seeds of power’s lure

fire to fire will always fail
darkness burns with the flame
consuming might even while
foes are dropped by the sword
the other path will win the day
when the weakness is embraced
holding what the strong discard
in pure arrogance before their fall

shed the tear to realize
what’s important above all force
connection to the angelic realms
is found in laughter of the child
slay the monster with this spark
cry for blood spilled to ground
no pleasure taken at the dawn
darkness felled in weakest light.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181017.

I found my Savior when he died
passed from life, yet to rise
surrounded by the ones who cared
ready to move him to a tomb.

Nature was the frame without
asking me to look within
where I've given up my sins
with knowledge that he'd rise again.

The garden held the station's crest
put upon a bright green wall
proceeded by twelve milestones
with best as last, praise the Lord.

Acceptance of the longest walk
a day that saved this humble soul
the stone showed the sacrifice
while spring's rebirth foretold more.

I'll stand here to declare his gift
the covenant of God to men
before I leave this gladed place
to live again as Jesus did.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170426.

The pebble falls into the pool
from how far up I'll not guess
the height will tell cause impact
not known before stone is tossed
the land may drown in the wave
submerged by the resulting crest
or ripples will disturb the peace
hidden by a calm breeze.

A balloon flies to the waiting sky
another message sent to soar
asking those far below
to gaze above at the sight
what may happen will depend
on who stands looking up
it could be a swarming throng
or silence of deserted field.

Against these fickle turns of fate
the author seeks a surer thing
and artist bends media to mind
before presenting to the world
artifacts made by hand
God's expression none can deny
if there were a few kind souls
to witness dawn of Genesis.

These pleading cries are self-exclaimed
wanting ears to hear the noise
imploring eyes to turn their way
with guarantees worth no more than dust
blood and tears poured to create
asking others to behold
toil embraced to create
hoping some will witness this.

Recognition is the food
for the soul seeking more
than isolation in its art
emotion's void without love
when the pebble seeks the pool
and a balloon flies above
asking all to honor these
the artist's bid to live beyond.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170913.

The tone out loud may betray
the calm realized deep within
perhaps the gods could forgive
what the voice will express

that placid place of good intent
abandoned when the sounds relent
tumbled from the inner depths
to **** the sounds then expressed

somewhere in the journey’s breadth
the words transformed to manifest
ill intent for all involved
even while the angels cringe

vowels twisted around state
exceptions to the smiling face
what’s said outside would be withdrawn
if only time could be reversed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190909.

To not exist frightens some
terrified of what's beyond
by the writ of dogma's word
or question mark more profound

as if demise is a doom
not the blessing of nature's grace
sympathetic to all men
wrapped in mysteries beyond insight

no prey is sought by the void
instead the rhythms seek their own
karma wed to cyclic storms
prompts alarm where none is meant

all will fall between the cracks
when the surface is meant to split
time is measured by those who stay
before the cleft expands once more

if our fates were prolonged
beyond the time breaths bequeath
that peace found outside of strife
would escape the tortured souls

madness tips the scales to view
by the wisdom's virtue or sadder means
comfort found in what most may fear
mysteries explored by journeying forth.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180911.

the cuts are too deep to hide
hot reaction comes to the front
hard earth is bent to satisfy
pain deposited in the soul

many hands took to the task
to slice incisions into life
with the victim left alive
still breathing with desire to die

taint etched on God’s vessel
asking Hell to take the lead
with one avenue left to walk
spreading rage before the end

it’s no wonder the anger waits
brought by those who take vengeance
if you doubt why this should be
look to the cuts that still bleed

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170807.

If I could name my top regret
source of sorrow in my heart
the villain would the masks
I wear in place of myself

marked with the happy smile
or confidence in business stride
cookie-cutter to appease
disregarding the inner peace

revelation has come at last
then put aside to compensate
for the whims of other men
those who would not understand

such is the challenge I now face
excuse the pun that's been made
while the veil obscures your sight
you'll hear the tears behind the smile

this shell enabled to present
a false guise that brings me grief
blessed by all who walk outside
while I mourn what's lost inside

when the physical does not explain
mute assistant of my pain
giving comfort to the lie
regret struggling in my life.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180122.

If I were to list my top regret
it would point at myself
denouncing change that came too slow
by the speed and not the flow
while the seconds are cast away
the layers ask to be displayed

with quaint reference to comfort’s angst
deference is given to the mewling tongue
while determining identity
some parts were clear to see
hidden in the rapt desires
always there to speak its mind

that internal voice is locked away
announcing volumes only one will hear
while the world is ignorant
of this flow that souls dictate
cooperating with gender’s taunt
the outward kept in still detente

an arrangement that most approve
as the past becomes a lie
the shell seems to carry on
as the core is left to die
on the altar of frozen time
these choices become sorrow's life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190426.

When the fun has run its course
I’ve plumbed the depths, come up short
seeking more than I should have
in the realms where I’ve played

appetite was front and center
once appeased, but no longer
craving lust more than reason
hunger as its own reward

autopilot for the sinner
helmsman of the darkness realms
pointing to the paths unwinding
beyond the realm of angels’ sight

promising all and nothing more
the cup is hidden from the drinker
was it empty before I sipped
or did I drain the decadence?

the passenger sits in the back
they are me with inclination
to explore where passion ends
the greatest trap of the seeker

now I’ve returned to the start
more desirous than before
taken there with no regrets
except to depart, to roam again.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170824.

To sell the body is seen a sin
when the skin is currency
while the buyers flock around
with payment held close at hand

once the exchange has occurred
away realms of chastity
the supplicants deign to condemn
the very source of ecstasy

to decry the pleasures gained
saves the face of holy men
when due fairness is applied
between the partners of the act

their honor clutched is a sham
like the masks devoutly worn
when the imp comes to call
evoking lust in high and low

the urge is fed for a time
few may last when it returns
ask yourself why dogmas lie
when suggesting otherwise

to sell the body is a boon
stooping low to holy plans
only asking for respect
while others wear their saintliness.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190201.

To sketch or paint is enough
when a call is in the heart
to put on page the innerspace
inspired by feelings of the day

the groove is found in the ink
expressed for sake of artistry
crafting substance from nothing
by drawn lines and paint’s tint

a scratch of pen is the start
marker’s swath with a line
boundaries set by the mind
blueprint of what’s to come

blending lines into swirls
simple structures built upon
depictions hinted in outline
a picture forming by design

overlapping towards the goal
expressing God in our sight
by the virtue of a blueprint
illustration of the dream

building worlds all may see
ambition authored by a pen
or the pigments of a brush
to sketch or paint is enough.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171013.

This is to the lovers I regard
with a fondness from the heart
looking back through the years
at the ones that I’ve embraced

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

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180611.

The demons live inside this house
where doom awaits at journey’s end
the past-life knocks on the door
with the hidden in shadow’s realm

what’s been done was once forgotten
the forsaken brought to the forward
though this is slow to been seen
the signposts etched by memory

now that the rug has been removed
proverbially stating what’s considered
as the future demands its due
from debris of scattered dreams

pain mixes with lessons learned
sorrow soil for future growth
from the seeds planted there
karma sprouts to fill the void

to transform or be reborn
this is the choice to absolve
lest the demons decide the course
bar the way, close the doors.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171206.

I once saw Holy in the woods
far above rest of life
with their trunks so near to hand
arboreal creatures reaching up

majestic crowns that challenge fate
an aberration that took my breath
trees so straight they broke the air
shattering sky like arrows shot

the shards rained down to the ground
amongst the scrub and bushes strewn
atop the bones of giants fell
by their age or nature’s curse

defiance of the lower realms
failed the fauna thought most blessed
when the rot consumes the corpse
they’re reduced by fallen grace

I relate to both these themes
seeing God and touching Hell
across the years of standing tall
the cycle turns for all kinds

I’ll exist the best I can
touching clouds of deity
while knowing feet are made of clay
baked by fire in furnace heat.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180114.

There is a land I'd like to walk
one where I'd feel at home
like son returned at last
in a form not recognized

the path prescribed is passion’s game
first a date with romance
complete with flirting all in fun
then seduction to round it out

knowing something lays beyond
a trip to realms close to my heart
perhaps one day I'll walk those paths
lay down the need to be a man

assumptions made at a glance
with fair passing as a phase
what's at hand is the real thing
as the heart desires a fling

until that day I'll walk the edge
look at fields of beyond the wall
reaching down to touch the blooms
with the mask that does not fit.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190117.

Where chains of rules are applied
to the limbs of the enslaved
suffering becomes a normative
thought to be superlative

desired above all other joys
the best is based on woe
darkness affirmed as light
the gloom becomes delight

this illusion cast by saints
look to the imps that relate
their glee is proof enough
that few dare call the bluff

rattle the manacles to proclaim
none should live as a slave
bound to rules not their own
tradition tossed of as a yoke.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200224.

Beauty holds a special place
across the spectrum life may take
instructed by vision’s quest
then turned to dark for evil wants

the blessed game of give and take
gives the latter an upper hand
given to the grasping tastes
wishing lust to be the game

between the look and the touch
one comes first if life is fair
while the second is not assumed
when the world disdains abuse

that wanting beauty to be held
without respect for vessel’s stead
the spectrum does not permit
transgression taken in the end.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191018.

The choice is made in the soul
if a decision is the right word
instead a knowing represents
identity that fits the best

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

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

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

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200121.

The tallest of barriers
and deepest of moats
restrict the masses
from coming too close

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

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

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

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200106.

A trilogy is arrayed
bearing the fruits of hate
filled with malice plans
against this soul filled with dread
I'll mask their identity
though the twist will be a treat
the greatest sadness coming last
when the curtain is finally dropped

society would be suspect
wishing harm instead of joy
with a dislike for the ones
that deviate from the norm
reinforced by a wider world
set to foil the inner goals
by a malice fully formed
or mere ignorance as a thorn

they’re off the hook in this tale
as well as miscreants sadly led
these persist in their holes
away from realms where I roam
the swarm does not equal three
a thousand plus if you please
so I’ll put them to the side
and now progress ever on

at last the villains take the stage
welding knives with poison blades
poised to take more than life
those qualities that matter most
I can’t deny their sly invite
to creep closer before they strike
if only I could resist
the charm implied in their harm

now you’ve waited until the last
revelation may be expressed
these last stanzas are the prize
to be unwrapped without a smile
the trilogy waits to be revealed
to take the stage with a bow
enemies that will comply
me, myself, and mostly I.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190312.

The trinkets tied to memories
collections without pertinence
haunt my dreams in misery
insisting paths I dare not take

leading to the traps of lore
with a focus on lost debris
with only value to the one
desiring more than present draws

these echoes of lost history
consume attention in the sleep
this is an echo of waking hours
exclaiming loudly in danger’s place

while the present asks to be
the past consumes all relevance
as the warnings are broadcast
from the realms of troubled sleep.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190707.

Once the mighty played the field
floating high above all men
vices seized to be absolved

the past had culture that defiled
assaults dismissed by ego’s boon
permission gave to monsters’ birth

power flexed for pleasure's sake
taken when the giving balked
rights discarded for delight’s harm

to take control was the goal
lorded over the smaller ones
wanting all and then some more

present day has now arrived
with tender wounds aching still
calling out the miscreants

authority tastes the bitter edge
justice in the public eye
the clay feet are now revealed

command cuts itself to heal
the fiends seen in mirror’s face
altars splashed with sacrificed

the mighty fall by gravity
no longer able to stand upright
when the sins have true weight.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171114.

Once the mighty played the field
floating high above all men
vices seized to be absolved

the past had culture that defiled
assaults dismissed by ego’s boon
permission gave to monsters’ birth

power flexed for pleasure's sake
taken when the giving balked
rights discarded for delight’s harm

to take control was the goal
lorded over the smaller ones
wanting all and then some more

present day has now arrived
with tender wounds aching still
calling out the miscreants

authority tastes the bitter edge
justice in the public eye
the clay feet are now revealed

command cuts itself to heal
the fiends seen in mirror’s face
altars splashed with sacrificed

the mighty fall by gravity
no longer able to stand upright
when the sins have true weight.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171114.

Seek the truth in music’s arms
honesty that will evolve
adapting to the greatest need
to dispel the strident lies

that sum of chords expressed throughout
speaks veracity to the heart
even while the gross deceit
is expressed without concern

for the lost among the crowd
desiring comfort in their resolve
to escape from chains of angst
attached in realms of silent rage

against the palette of the world
wishing for sincerity
starved for blessings in the void
now fulfilled by music’s charm.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190714.

Try the wine, take a sip
thank you sir, (what is this?)
a good brand,  worthy ilk

perhaps a trap, this offer
red with pasta, (a good pair?)
with regret I’ll sup the vino

Try the wine, none for me
none for him, the muscle bound
my health excludes just a taste

cheers to you (with false charm)
I’ll check the color, it’s still red
then the smell, claret bouquet

Try the wine, indulge your thirst
while I speak about my wife
she’s gone away, no quite dead

badly *****, with assault
by the viscous hooligans
where you sitting with your glass

Try the wine, now I’m bound
to this chair, left for dead
while the flu took her life

I know better, the modern age
removed my dear from the stage
not Pneumonia, it was them

Try the wine, you sad victim
help is now on the way
phone taken to call some friends

(Alex considers to take leave)
forgive my trouble, I’ll depart
no, no my boy, no trouble at all.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171211.

Destiny guards the door
to the sanctum most avoid
when the signs point away
to the dogma put to page
some would say the way is set
the path etched in the stone
trod by dedicates to the cause
not looking up beyond their lot.

The providence may be shed
resisted once the lot is cast
even when the writing posts
on the wall none can ignore
concession made to wisdom’s breadth
only a rebel would demur
to a calling few may hear
silent to all other men.

Ascension becomes the right course
soaring past the doom foretold
the loophole seized at last
while conceding kismet’s role
the choice is made to turn the key
bending life to transform fate
nudging open the gateway
by the fate we make ourselves.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180813.

Twenty-nine years ago
a senior in my college days
the truth came to me in the night

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170520.

The clock twice right each day
may tick as the time is betrayed
no longer tracked in perfect sync
with the cycles of the sane

those timepieces god has blessed
mark the hours as paragons
each with a purpose finely tracked
periods seeped in excellence

contrasted with the broken shells
seeming whole but missing parts
those mimics of horologes
instruments meant to tell no lies

if only all could realize
so much more than time implied
those fabrications most deny
when twice each day wrong is right.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191212.

I met two Gods on the road
each was the same by their book
right down to the sandalled gear
shared across two thousand years
penned by men with intent
good and bad with in-between
to describe who I had met
the middle one was not there

perhaps they took a holiday
that middle-person of the three
vacationed in a different place
while the others showed their face
sadly this was not the case
to be lukewarm was taboo
there was this pair in the end
present in the sun’s hot glare

one bowed their head in response
with full knowledge of who I was
a courtesy I’ll not deny
given the trespass in my life
the whole of my desires
identity mixed into the same
mattered less than who I was
respectfulness for due grace

the other spit upon my feet
railed against imagined sins
with a story already set
lurid words seeing red
a cardboard cut-out became my role
as I stepped to one side
already knowing I was not the one
the target of tirade’s harm

each God of Heaven had their say
before they continued on their way
one with a nod to who I was
another sneered without love
I’m left to wonder who was there
lived beyond the scribbler's pen
the answer lays in human choice
deciding which to present.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190324.

Shadows remain of the largesse
boon of youth now well spent
replaced by a prize of the years
trade endowed by Father Time

once the lines were more straight
or untouched by gravity
curves blessed to remain
until the swap had been made

all I had was that frame
and promise of a future time
what I thought was poverty
was much more when I look back

now I look around the world
to see my friends who exist
in a realm in which I walked
now removed by a chasm’s breadth

gold arrived with the silver
some by the fool, the rest was blessed
if the latter could compensate
for the fading in my hair

I'll not complain too much my friend
this other boon is bird at hand
this clock moves forward only
the two in bush cannot return.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171025.

The challenge of identity
is the blade with two sides
labels meant to illustrate
turning back to decimate

revelation splits the veil
slicing barriers that separate
what was concealed is now revealed
when the knife expands a life

the other edge cuts the hand
when the world retaliates
rejecting the acknowledgment
asking glove now ****** print

at the end the Valkyries
will decide the battle’s end
when the sword seeking peace
turns to fatal injury.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180607.

This unconventional cat
still alive with some gray
another life spent to survive
nine long past and still I strive

inspired by those who came before
then relying on wits of the self
don’t leave my side lest I forget
even we seek company

allies by our differences
when compared to the masses gathered
wishing we would disappear
not gather to state we’re here

we’re all alone on this alley fence
yelling as one to the to **** the night
the others don’t understand
unless they’re a feline as well

we creators speaking to the void
only to have echoes returning back
familiar voices are then enough
to know that grace is our path

now I embrace fur and all
more cat than I could hope to be
still I strive to walk my path
speak the meows for all to hear.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180802.

I stand bent against the years
casting veils with feeble light
obscuring more than what's shown
as the gloom gathers round

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

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

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

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

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

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180619.

Friends are absent for a time
by arrangements most unkind
when the world must revolve
to the tune of gods’ resolve

the comes and goes have been set
to grow and test the occupants
wishing to hold on to faith
that comfort that most won't debate

disregarding the small joys
now that they’re beyond control
of mere mortals that only seek
to make something of life found bleak

the benevolence this lonely quest
is hollowed by this small request
connections found are put aside
when friends are lost to unkind life.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200124.

Beware fair traveler if you may
shadows flitting in the field
though they may seem close at hand
they’ll move away when you draw near

‘come and visit’ they seem to yell
more a whisper in your head
luring dupes to their deaths
leading them to unlocked gate

the paths are safe when well lit
trod by many, here to there
ignoring glimmer flitting orbs
safety found in boredom's realm

the warning signs on the fence
state that all should stay away
a soul is forfeit to pay entry
passage through the unlocked gate

gravity is shared by all
fixing feet to the ground
when the holy is held high
against the faeries of the glade

sadly this is not enough
wanderlust consumes caution
into the arms of fay killers
it’s one-way by unlocked gate.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180123.

My life resolved around the last
premise sought in precipice
when the end decides my fate
by the drink or the dance

what came before was the lead
flutist calling those who hear
presenting options as I proceed
following blindly as instrument

spinning gears in the machine
for the goal at the last ticks
clicking down as if in a dream
what’s beyond an interim course

these are the avenues I’m bequeathed
walking miles until that time
marking what comes in between
as the space before the end

a star shining in darkened sky
pointing downward as if to say
finality seeks to resolve
dearest wishes from the heart

now the last becomes the first
defined by my will to endure
passage sought to survive
until finality has arrived.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180616.

Passion burned hot in the past
logs crest with tongues of fire
scorching air with their touch
radiant heat felt by those
standing close to the flame
giving same in response

now only ash is in the hearth
powdered memories of the past
with no cords to fill the gap
ample fuel short at hand
they're not stacked for fervor's gain
when resolve has passed away

embers promise a last hurrah
all too faint in winter's draft
then these fail like the rest
eternal cold fills my life
warmth a memory on this path
until the grave is found at last.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180213.

I’ll place my pain upon a hook
rhyming, turning, asking all
to recognize the truth involved
the freshest bait is too raw
seeped in blood drained by words
offered up as banquet's feast.

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

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

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170809.

Value asks for a nod
confirmation of sage desires
when the treasures wait inside
sourced from sense of the divine

disregard the plaintive cries
lest they distract with torpid lies
grace implores sure resolve
guidance sought in the cause

the strongest come from inside
embracing wisdom all possess
voices asking to be heard
erudition for the soul

look to the self for truest bliss
extension of holiness
with encouragement to prevail
all that’s missing is the push.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190717.

Vespers spoke behind the veil
in a language none shall hear
intoned with a natural flair
honeyed words flit to my ear

I would ask who spoke aloud
syllables I'd dare not speak
except I know it was myself
chorus to the Almighty's bliss

vestments decked my other frame
one or another, they were changed
though the latter was preferred
a holy cassock of many hues

the quiet pride of my expression
was condoned by the phantoms
just as real as myself
yet immaterial within the fog

these invocations disturb my day
when memory trips back to sleep
asking nothing in return
but promising much in verity

beauty sought is mercy's gap
no longer harboring safe respite
as the holy is made clear
behind the veil of fancied dreams.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180112.

I prayed the words were enough
put to page in an effort
to find salvation beyond the flames
looking back I see the char
acres shifted from green to black
destruction mounted where I passed

ruins scatter in my sight
even when I look away
across the landscape inward set
you may ask how the poems
absolve the wreckage God has blessed
by the broken they provoked

I’ll vex the heat to absolve
exclaim the stanzas loud enough
quench the anger in my heart
no longer will the flames consume
the innocent that don’t deserve
immolation by consequence

in the end the smoke will drift
reminder of the holocaust
that nearly ended all there was
fair verse sent by muses’ grace
redemption granted in response
when words search for deliverance.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180816.

Everything has beauty
somewhere beneath the pain
scabs piled on top of each
destruction denied by most

evoked by careless monsters
not caring what they’ve betrayed
when appetites are satisfied
the refuse is cast aside

if only this were the case
when lives must continue on
sadly ripped by the thoughtless teeth
seeking more than what is theirs

allow me to change my tune
thoughtless is too kind a word
when calculating is more correct
from place of power manifest

permission given or just taken
rational for what’s been done
excesses forgiven by the group
or just abused by the one

reducing beauty to a shell
or burying it deep in the wound
abandoned to seek another
victims too lovely to carry on.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171119.

Volcanoes waiting to explode
slumbering miles within the earth
invisible to questing eyes
all too ready to believe the lies

those fairy tales of life expressed
of base desires too long repressed
even while the pressure builds
wishing joys to be fulfilled

those delights of raptured breath
hinted as the tremors build
explosions waiting in the realms
sequestered by the hesitant

everything burns in the end
eruptions damning past repents
they matter not when the flesh
takes its due as planets twitch.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191110.

I'll speak the volumes to the walls
of endless pain and lost loves
the hunger that's always there
then hear the silence that is returned

the audience is multitude
at the same time, they are too few
by the measure of a response
registered against my heart

the void receives what it won’t give
denying passage to and fro
solitude is the result
even while the words may flow

perhaps it’s for the best
this ignorance of all the rest
that flat denial of what’s said
when the balm matters most

for society that contrives
to deny artistic strife
I’ll speak the volumes once again
knowing silence will be my end.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190313.

Voyeurs come in many stripes
standing at the edge of light
peering from the depths of shame
knowing where to place the blame

scripture written on the self
lifted from the holy books
skin absorbs the greater truth
without regard for consequence

spoken clearly behind the mask
worn to **** the realm of doubt
becomes the journey of the mind
slick with tears from the beyond

the steps are taken down the path
away from orbs of calm insight
remaining while world retreats
****** of the private grief.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190919.

Passing asks for time to freeze
before harsh censure is released
upon the ones that masquerade
hoping that the veil remains
a state of fear is ever present
echoes of the larger group
in alarm they’d badly act
abuse exacted in response.

Highly functioning is a term
for the life that suffers same
as the one without the goal
of seeming normal in the world
biding time is done at risk
of losing self within the mess
when on the sly the fake is real
normal done is normal lost.

Cages are built to house
those who deem to live within
with disguises that may slip
when disclosure risks their close
losing being or ending job
pushed out of home by family
all of these may come to pass
when revelation destroys a life.

Liberty is assumed by those
who stand outside, looking in
seeing privilege as the path
as freedom gained and self gone
to find a place for a short time
without oppression they then find
passing people walk a line
between themselves and the pit.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170919.

Normality is the golden grail
promise of a thousand smiles
if I stoop beneath the bar
bend to fit within their mold
they only ask me to embrace
dogma dipped in history
rooted to the cold bedrock
beneath of the warmth of decency.

What's come before is all there is
sanity within their jail
this is the promise made to all
(those outside need not apply)
stick with the like no matter what
purity is the highest goal
with skin color as the test
of whether worth will be beget.

Punch the clock every day
hold down a job to make my way
all that don't are only dregs
living off the common man
holding on to holy dollar
what’s been made is only ours
don’t give it out to others
this is the measure of virtue’s end.

Sing the hymns in unison
lit by windows with color's hues
one true faith all must adore
else be a heathen outside the lord
love only those that do conform
with opposites defining love
the same is seen as greatest sin
abomination that all condemn.

Act your age, your decade's stamp
putting down youth's play toys
to find the somber in all things
content to die before your death
you may ask how this is known
that these are norms they promote
the answer seems to be too sad
the loudest voices are most correct.

Now I know how I should live
though self-hate would be the theme
cloaked in the veil of being one
with a world as the hostile place
considering how they see
the breadth of what could be
I’ll pass on that normal stint
instead walk as an aberrant.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170821.

I’ll walk a step to achieve
perfection found in where none should be
one step more and then the next
until I find I must retreat

when the critics have their say
on such matters that betray
life embraced to realize
identities that aren’t a lie

two steps more to come aside
fellow travelers that give comfort
admitting that they also vibe
with alternatives found inside

confirming bias of the perverse
not by that name for the converts
instead the label is the norm
stating life beyond the fold

the third step may be the last
returning round to the first
standing as the example
to those who follow with their own.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181104.