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poetryaccident Feb 2019
Write a story from the heart
about a tale that’s circumspect
when the subject is the self
broaching words that explain
more than surface and less than soul
those highs and lows plus in between

make it true, unless it’s not
it makes no difference after all
the end result is good enough
the fiction feeds a future bliss
both delusions and promises
describing dreams held within

mixing good with the bad
the same event may be both
depending on the audience
extorting bliss from distress
choosing which will be displayed
fabrication on the spot

all of this has one charge
inviolate unto itself
that the writer is their own
no other to scribe this life
the fantasies are singular
based on truths sourced within.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190202.
The poem “Write a Story” was based on a Tumblr meme that stated: “Problems:  / I want this story to be written / I don’t want this story to be written by anyone but me /  I don’t want to write this story”.
poetryaccident Aug 2019
Write each day to stay alive
this is my task with the pen
to etch mere words upon the page
an exclamation against the dread

lest the ***** becomes a cliff
no longer there to ground a soul
the holding ****** to finally fail
without foundations that must prevail

greet the sun to **** the night
this was the way of ancient man
a superstition in hindsight
the same is said of my task

to write each day to stay alive
a religion I’ll not deny
with the clergy of the poem
the congregation of only one.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190826.
The poem “Write Each Day” is about the cathartic activity of writing.
poetryaccident Aug 2017
Anticipation of the words
sprung from pen to fill a page
speaking only to the mind
lest the world know of my kind
it’s not always been this way
poetry seen as a path
to explore the inner realms
turn them over while visible.

I’ve lived in silence while I bled
the tragedies filled my head
forcing me to the ground
even though I seem to stand
I was mute with tears withheld
turning inward while I smiled
wondering if I should persist
as shadows fought to be heard.

“You’ll write in time” said the muse
this seemed insane I’ll have you know
with only madness to convey
I turned away from honesty
still the scribblings were put forth
maintaining contact outside myself
as the topics dribbled out
surface knowledge softly spoke.

Then the day arrived at last
no longer did I hide from sight
poems arrived to fill the void
a method found to spill my guts
the words have flowed every day
so many topics, each a gift
put to page as seasons turn
exploring pain to heal the mind.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170826.
At some point I’ll share the story of how I came to write poetry, and through it, find a measure of sanity.   “Write in Time” is a glimpse of the tale.
poetryaccident Jan 2018
Write me a love letter
spoken from the heart
but don’t use mere paper
other ways will suffice

messages are delivered
on tip of tongue or otherwise
conveyed by love’s passion
asking for attention’s span

sounding the unknown depths
where emotion responds in kind
seeking like from this one
I’ll react with the same

dispatch will be accepted
to be returned with joy
a letter sent in response
to fondness bestowed from afar

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180125.
“Write Me A Love Letter” was inspired by a Tumblr posted photo.
poetryaccident Jan 2020
I'll write some words to be read
proof of existence before I'm dead
a simple act to state the case
this poet remains in the human race

attribution is required
lest the journey become mired
stumbling without outlets found
to mutter sorrow inside a frown

cloaked in couplets misconceived
as twisted cheer in rhyming play
structure more important than the pleas
couched inside floridity

verbiage adorned purposely
knowing few will perceive
what lays beyond asks a due
demands for final perpetude.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200129.
The poem “Write Some Words” is about the hidden motivations of poets.
poetryaccident May 2017
Traditions are good enough
been around many a year
keeping you in your place
affirming the status quo
because privilege is fine where it is
rewards I have by breathing
that's my story to which I’ll stick
good work if you can get it!

The majority is comfortable
our ease is paramount
to say otherwise is radical
a traitor to the society
don't rock the boat or we'll get wet
comfy on seats sent by fate
it doesn't matter you're the drowning one
what's one death if the rest survive?

Don't celebrate your unique state
it's a reminder of work to do
of sins still committed in the dark
please just blend into the rest
cause if you continue as activist
we'll slice you with mirrored cuts
used in ways that don't make sense
even as we appropriate your scorn.

Understand that I have the right
to **** a stream off the bridge
the artifice that transports me
safely to the other side
since I can't consider those below
huddled without my benefits
who enjoy the yellowed shower
that traditions bless on them.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170516.
An online friend came into the cross-hairs of the heated online reactions. They were fighting for changes to a social environment, with the desired result being less patriarchal and less hetronormative. Some people pushed back, with the exclamation of “(don’t) try to change our traditions, call(ing) the values we hold hateful, call(ing) our traditions exclusive despite all evidence to the contrary”. Another said, “this didn't used to be an issue in the scene when I started, because we left politics and agendas at the door”. These are typical, but heated, remarks seen when activists are at work. I’ve seen strong parallels in the area of marriage quality.

My heart further went out to my friend when they began to, completely separately, organize a meet-up of people in a minority group. An online pundit accused my friend of being a bigot, guilty of using activism “as a f*cking front”.

All of this prompted me to write the poem "*******". The speaker of the poem is somewhere in the majority, pushing back against a minority seeking rights and accommodation. My apologies for using descriptive language, but these are the typical reactions, intended or otherwise, of those in a state of majority normality when change is afoot.
poetryaccident Mar 2019
Yesterday I expressed
something more than living angst
this glimpse of joy realized
on the page before my eyes
the buoyancy was aberrant
even as it was welcomed

hinting needs beyond the norm
something now to follow through
that spot of brightness in the gloom
consolation for past days
hinting that more may arrive
if optimism became my charm

the clouds that opened have returned
still the shadow is on the ground
happiness briefly glimpsed
in fair words that I expressed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190329.
The poem “Yesterday” is about the fluid nature of writing poetry.  Some days entertain joyful thoughts and other days cater to less happy fare.
poetryaccident Jan 2019
Yesterday I expressed
something more than living angst
this surprised even me
with ink as memory
shared with a waiting world
those some words put to page

stated in poetic verse
the quick hope that soon expired
as the sun began to set
the buoyancy was aberrant
even as it is was blessed
flash in the pan before the night

lost as the day began again
with the weight of history
a glimpse through art’s recall
spot of brightness in the gloom
the consolation of the past
now absent in the present time.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190112.
The poem “Yesterday” was inspired by a posting on Tumblr that hinted at art expressing the happy past.
poetryaccident Jul 2017
You were just another face in all my days
one more to which I'll have to say goodbye
from the other side of the one-way veil
when my final end is met on the long march

I've seen the young faces that give me hope
when those my age seem to deny the same
bitterness at what's been now lost to them
weighs on my heart while the saplings compensate

with those my age would seem to be my fate
though my world may appear different
angst becomes the companion I can't shake
when self owned loss is a shared malady

I've traveled on these roads far many miles
accumulated the dust heavy on my boots
now I long to lay down my heavy head
bidding your youth goodbye when I pass away.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170705.
The first line of "Your Youth" was prompted by a verse in the song "Call Yourself A Lover" by Profiles. The result is a mixed bag, but it does accurately speak to some of the emotions I’m feeling.
poetryaccident Jan 2020
When life seems empty at the end
the question is “now what’s next?”
a muted answer is whispered forth
lost in the teeth of the coming storm

too long nurtured by reticence
the tempest is harvested at long last
bearing fruit with sad appeal
the poison disguised with the sweet

when satisfaction falls too short
the mark eluded when plans strayed
if one could say the shot was aimed
to find something without blame

this game revealed as zero sum
with only losers in my head
give the world the winning purse
while questions ask what’s been rehearsed.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200104.
The poem “Zero Sum” was written about the confluence of life.

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