When the hate becomes a box
electrified by past comments
there's no escape for the one
now enclosed by lack of love

the feast was fed for a time
riches poured from above
as the base demanded blood
to sate the priest’s unholy lusts

now that trenches have been dug
with the bottoms beyond sight
keeping safe the twisted words
entrenched in need to be right

truth unmade by the mold
of small hatreds spun to large
asking all the vapid fears
to infect beyond their realm

no compromise is possible
once the line has been crossed
even if the soul may ask
for reprieve beyond discord.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190119.

They say hate is required
to define a state of mind
for the self or other ones
only then will purpose shine
nothing less is a fraud
pretending towards the greater goal

set aside by the holy saints
now enforced by strident imps
joyful that righteousness
found a place to lay its head
safe from those without cuts
that deny godliness

the diagnosis will depend
on the bleeding from the wounds
more for the best after all
when injuries are surely bless
where the gate should open wide
the guardians hide the key

as the test falls too short
or exceeds the latitude
that those who pass beyond the walls
are truly wounded and then absolved
the see the hurt in the world
as the measure for the all.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190514.

When hate is reserved for the one
most removed from serpent's tongue
strong concern may be felt
for the events that won't end well

if the world was not askew
the voice will hold fair latitude
for the speaker of the same
and not proclaim the opposite

consider that the self should love
show forbearance for the one
linked across the whole of life
asked to flourish despite of strife

instead a doom comes with grief
sourced from malice felt within
an enmity that must deny
humanity sprung from the divine.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190719.

When my words relate despair
a scratching pen stating woe
it’s no wonder that people turn
avert their eyes from lack of joy
I wish this were not the case
a happy world asks for more
just know that sadness has a worth
madness cloaking healing touch.

Sometimes life is full of walls
erected high, the stuff of lies
whispering deceit to our ears
that trials of life are solitaire
into this my words intrude
stating loud of hardship shared
participation is the norm
to common ills we all endure.

The other balm affirms my life
when thirst for doom is allayed
the chronic need is satisfied
to end it all, remove the hurt
by turn of letters,  a poet’s cure
the muse's license removes stigma
in that space I can relate
of life's struggles felt inside.

Drama is not my base intent
though the words may relate
to the matters in my life
of life and death, moving forth
railing against life’s restraints
both in my life and outward felt
combining to crush a soul
that’s what I share, the brunt of it.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170707.

Angels still have a heart
and a faith that may depart
if the world damns this soul
beyond the limits of their will

the vaulted heavens aren’t enough
to sway the spirit from despair
when mere mortals are much worse
than imps from realms far below

eternity is the sentence’s span
for the ones self-condemned
found divorced from the grace
of salvation the high embrace

still some hope must persist
to save the lowest from their ilk
in this place the lost are found
and once again the heart rebounds.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200116.

Most intend the arrow’s path
to fly true straight from the bow
with a goal in their sights
when the hand let goes the string
this is the plan in elder’s eyes
witnessed cross an era’s span
fetchers all across the years
spawning myths of targets hit.

Preference cast to normality
purpose planned at the release
fingers slip from the shaft
propelling life beyond their grasp
that’s where the intent ends
given to another life
with their fate to chose alone
missile finding where it should land.

The arrow flies through the air
launched from bow with fair intent
a catapult of fortune’s lot
where is the choice in where it lands?
this or the other, the targets span
spectrums spread across our lives
asking all to choose their lot
objective hit at flight’s outcome.

Self-acceptance is the key
perhaps not the same as penchants cast
acceptance of the providence
circumspection of the whole
foresight fails and life goes on
the purest love is for the self
no matter where the flight is ceased
an arrow’s path is heart revealed.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180113.

Brunette sprite of fairy kin
this impression fills my eyes
lending reason to the call
of shifting to another shell
you may wonder why I long
to fold back to a past icon
personifying so much grace
I’ll tell you why in words of prose.

Pixie haircut framing orbs
hazel green looked at the world
even in the black and white
the magic shown to be revealed
stature blessed by touch of Venus
perfect nose, to me it matters
all of this displays the answer
consideration of what I’m missing.

Reflection from a bygone age
hinting at who I should be
when satisfaction of the gaze
echoes more than beauty’s praise
you may see just an actress
one of many across the decades
this may be true for the ones
not seeing more in Hepburn’s charm.

Of course I speak of sweet Audrey
with a star that still shines bright
muse of my bearing if I could wish
to shift so much in nature’s realm
time and space should concede
warp to fill my deepest dream
of matching looks to dear Edda
the ardent wishes I feel within.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180127.

Here's a drink to the lost
in the beverage of their choice
be it drenched in alcohol
or absent the sotted brew

each absence is trifling
taken in the world's wide breadth
what's now wandered far a field
denies attention by the pleb

a crowd of thousands mill about
ignoring each in their stead
this is the illusion beyond the cheers
draw the curtains against their shrill

there are a few that are too real
even though they're now only ghosts
haunting halls in memory
denying balm of thoughtlessness

these gaps are notable
when a seat becomes a void
where once the cheer was embraced
by dear ones now removed

so raise a drink to these souls
in the beverage of their choice
we'll get sloshed because we can
in memory of missing friends.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190124.

Here's a drink to the lost
in the beverage of their choice
be it drenched in alcohol
or absent the sotted brew

each absence is trifling
taken in the world's wide breadth
what's now wandered far a field
denies attention by the pleb

a crowd of thousands mill about
ignoring each in their stead
this is the illusion beyond the cheers
draw the curtains against their shrill

there are a few that are too real
even though they're now only ghosts
haunting halls in memory
denying balm of thoughtlessness

these gaps are notable
when a seat becomes a void
where once the cheer was embraced
by dear ones now removed

so raise a drink to these souls
in the beverage of their choice
we'll get sloshed because we can
in memory of missing friends.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190124.

There's that moment when you're awake
a realization begins to dawn
echoing the sun’s faint beams
something happened inside of dreams
you’d best keep it to yourself
so says the voice that’s not contrite

reflecting on the hidden scenes
beneath the balm of measured sleep
if only the face was reticent
muting journeys beyond the veil
instead betrayal is exclaimed
others asking why the grin

the prohibited draws a smile
taboo is best when indulged
without regard for consequence
when the illicit is made real
**** time or ****** spree
both are forbidden in the now

you'd best keep this to yourself
lest the prudes condemn the snooze
embrace the vacation of the mind
the retreat from tiresome grinds
just realize the fantasies
translate poorly from fair dreams.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190520.

Tears hide behind the smile
with the frown yet to arrive
when the prompts harken forth
parting clouds for something more

blackness is normality
near at hand in everyday
still the need can’t be denied
joy pretended to blind the mind

assuring the cares of worried ones
wishing nature to be more kind
even with the facade renounced
reality embraced by the frown

emotion's battle between the two
one inside for perpetude
the other seeking to explain
why the sun must cloak the rain.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191010.

History waits a long game
before turning cards held to breast
stating those who will ascend
along with fallen then condemned
past transgressions are held up
to the probing of insight
no longer hidden in plain sight
now visible to the light

the shadows will no longer hide
violations once thought right
the complacent put aside
when decrees are fully plied,
conservatives in the dark
those concerned to hold the past,
who fight against the tide of time
while holding to a tarnished life

society is the past blind
huddled masses used to hide
now pushed aside at long last
when due measure is put to test
beware the ground on which we stand
justice will have its day
asking nothing less than change
damning those who ruled past days.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190419.

There are days that test my will
to carry on in public view
by breadth of sharing inner truths
or asking justice to be pursued
both are comfort on good days
these are few when I dismay
the evil condoned by fellow men
even while they fly their flag

stating wisdom that’s suborned
by politics beyond the norm
soliciting some small gain
before their power slips away
towards that end the guilt compounds
deals with devils to possess
a future stained by a curse
of dishonor for their cause

into this fray I am immersed
by watching news of the taunts
passed in between before win
all the marbles in this conflict
what they behold as consequence
of morality held to heart
is then fodder to be spent
malevolence spun from grace

this rivalry that saps my will
to participate once again
I’d bid goodbye to these fecks
and then I know it’s in vain
my outrage is not for them
instead I fight for travelers
those of stripes that I share
I’ll hold my will for these friends.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181008.

Sometimes we need to hold ourselves
lest the world pulls us apart
grasping hands that only know
consuming hunger for a soul

find the center of the storm
Where the demons may well lurk
they're made plain in this place
without the noise to hide behind

once confronted deep inside
they have no place to run and hide
except to ask to be a part
of the thing they undermined

sanity's found in the calm
where darkness is made a friend
conquered in the holy quest
to live a life free from pain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170711.

Hold the sky lest it falls
when beauty pulls the clouds
crushing walls that project
to save the world from itself
allow light to pour within
with revelations few admit
still the brilliance will persist
as resistance is suppressed

two columns meant to preserve
decorum based on best intents
crumble when the comeliness
presses charms without regret
fay innocence displays a range
blue to pink with in-between
flow to violet as pillars fall
leaving want to mark the way

the sun and moon become one
androgyny is for the best
when the globes are conjoined
to see the grace at last combined
allow the sky to tumble down
beauty comes in many forms
denying walls that most may view
with pure desire as reverence.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181231.

There is no doubt that kinks exist
from the vanilla to the extreme
sadomasochism asks for pain
while the fetish defines bliss

outside these avenues attraction lays
in the realm of pure appeal
not confused with the sport
playfulness between adults

oddities more than strange
no related to loving souls
relationships stand beyond
these attempts to spice it up

be they hetro or something more
pairings are based on romance
one to the other becomes their norm
declaring more than kink explores

put aside the prejudice
disregard when hate equates
depravities of the mind’s eye
with amour when spirits court

no matter how the bits may fit
acknowledgment may extend
to hearts entwined as one
asking all to honor love.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181216.

These robes of lost promised hope
threads entangled by discord
hung in tatters by long abuse
by the rulers of this world

vestments tarnished without regard
for the hope that’s been lost
believers searching among the bones
finding only a sad heirloom

when wrapped tightly to evoke
happiness sought above all else
this is the pledge lost to deceit
surviving only in servant’s thoughts

the threads unravel by day’s end
an emperor left without their clout
still the theists long for a time
hope delayed on the decline.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190718.

Echoes are all that’s left
prompting thoughts of concern
asking more than life will share
portends silent at time of need

footsteps only I can hear
heartbeat tapping on my heart
in their wake the dust remains
evoking doubt in response

so many outcomes out of sight
scripts ascribed to low and high
cries imagined from the pits
or the laughs lift to the clouds

wondering where they may be
under gaze of morning’s sky
bearing witness while I cannot
hopeful echoes in my mind.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170914.

Look to the gender no longer compliant
that past pawn to the powers is now defiant
when the demure halos are put aside
switched for the headdress of power’s might

shared with those yearning strength
Pan and Cernunnos share vigor
Mother fixing the future path
conveyed to her daughters divinely blessed

vitality evoked on base desires
no longer the venue of masculine
look to the spiraling of maiden forms
holding sun to the moon’s pure wants

on longer suborned to kowtow
fertility seeks those who know
on pointed conveyance the yoke is tossed
tapping lighting from the sky

consider when halos are put aside
held in reserve while power is grasped
channeled by tips on top of head
horns exchanged for circlet of light

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180906.

Change a devil if you dare
remove their horns from the head
point to the heavens where you came from
this is the fantasy few will find

how many angels must attempt
the transformation of the bad
when the saviors are destroyed
stacked on high like cordwood?

a legion lost in this attempt
heaven is emptied in the attempt
still the devil asks for more
to serve the purpose that’s two fold

the truest sport absolves the pain
submission granted and then consumed
all for the chance that something will take
nudge the demon to accept wings

horns regrow while bodies bleed
a fiend suggesting salvation’s fruit
it’s a process that may succeed
supplicants feeding every need

look to the pile that results
all the past head ornaments
with room left for many more
while the devil waits to be saved.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181201.

Of all the ways I could describe
how radiant are my friends
it would be one of the three
descriptors stating excellence
none are considered to be the best
instead there is a wide contrast
between effects on my vision
attraction placed to be considered.

Pixie seen would be the start
upturned nose with freckles topped
smile emblazoned, wide enough
oh so cute would be the phrase
these nymphs allure my roving eye
I'll not complain in reticent
just to know that God has graced
the world with fairies near at hand.

Next would be the pretty ones
sum of the whole becomes the lot
not one feature or the other
yet in the all I praise the world
portrait painted by God's hand
with water color or touch of oils
each impressed on soft vellum
charm of the whole becomes the promise.

Lastly are the ones I don't approach
though it's not right, I'll admit
a wall too high for me to cross
the moat with surface that reflects
gorgeous spilled from beauty's fold
stop my heart, I've seen too much
goddess come to walk the earth
within my vision, a pure idol.

Now you've heard attraction's spread
from cute to pretty and then beyond
each as precious as the last
beautiful as the final stop
all these ways I could describe
with so many friends I am blessed
qualities in spectrum's glow
displaying by those in my life.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171130.

A ruby rose describes you well
beauty blessed with leaves of green
icon that once defined kings
now a lure for paramours

from the base you were plucked
brought on stage to stand alone
suitors passed then interest waned
when they viewed the consequence

the stem embraced draws fresh blood
in sacrifice to love’s urge
Venus offers devotion’s pain
hope in league with ache of heart

now embedded, the pain may end
no guarantee is made for this
embedded spikes become the norm
crimson cues of loyalty

I’m attached to ruby rose
brought together by barbs shared
once engaged I’ll bend my knee
add my blood to hues of red.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170921.

Allow me to hum a tune
while we dance to music’s lead
sent by the muse with no strings
except to join as a chorus
song embarked on our romp
close enough to be heard

while the room is ignorant
of our blessing from our voice
two blessed souls lost to time
floating in our confidence
bubble found where we can soar
transcending sound vocalized

when small talk is not enough
we’ve crossed that bridge long ago
conversation turned to song
elevation of dialogue
synchronized the best we can
without training or practice spent

engaging with a pure intent
inspired by minstrel’s steady beat
accompaniment to joy’s wry glee
jester found inside of each
not a crooner in earnest
instead bliss celebrates

while we the key may be off
or the words be muttered forth
the intent is to embrace
celebration of jubilee.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180517.

Listen my friends that have been bit
or merely scratched by suspect ones
vectored beasts that may carry
hydrophobia of dire consequence
the furry friends are a threat
the pain of rabies is too real
address it now or be doomed
it's not a joke cause then you'll die

the lagomorphs are immune
these are the hares and small rodents
you're not of this ilk so contend
with the shots that medicate
immunoglobulin will be first
then four doses of vaccine's *****
across two weeks the pain will press
around the wound or in deep muscle

if this path is not followed
as the sickness takes its toil
the last chance to fight the scourge
named after the town of beer
a quick coma then lots of drugs
it's not effective and dangerous
not recommended by authorities
don't put yourself in this place

so please bend to doctor's care
get your shots in quick recourse
the alternative is quite bad
paralysis and mortality
you're my friends I'd like to keep
alive and walking straight upright
get your shots even if you feel
like you'll die as you heal.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180412.

I could whisper dire warnings
or scream to have the deaf hear
the result is same both ways
for the knowing and the numb
both show compassion for my plight
each struggles in their own way
to react with helpfulness
stop my hand from harmful end

ignorance is the best haven
of those who walk in lily fields
with a bliss of newborn babes
there is no blame for lucky ones
for in their hearts they can't relate
or understand the painful place
to speak to them will do no good
these caring allies with few tools

this contrasts with fellow kin
who exist in shades of pain
seeking exit that can't be found
except by ways that all condemn
they relate with torn flesh
attempts to end the torment felt
this gives no pill that cures the soul
instead reminder of lost hope

in the end I feel alone
standing next to idles hands
filled with camps that stand outside
my pool of shame with one desire
the clueless gawk at my wounds
while knowing look to see their own
the sum is nothing for this one
with screams and whispers for the world.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180219.

Don’t ask me to start idle chatter
what I’ve discovered in my walk
when I met the Man in Black
straight man to the Lord on High

The Devil whispered God’s little secret
asking me to hold my tongue
for if the world knew the mystery
they’d grin in unison to his joke

I could hint what’s been uttered
gossip from the Lord of Imps
stating how I’m meant to live
against the veil of darkest light

torture as a right of passage
endings coming all too soon
waking coffins giving shelter
one from another in their despair

silence will be my only option
no outside voice brought to bear
because the start would have no ending
murmur stretching to only screams

when I pass I’ll break my quiet
stand with the Highest in his glee
witness humor behind the horror
share the laughter at Heaven’s Gates.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170605.

Consider this as a thought
if I could wake in the morn
look to the mirror to confirm
identity felt in the heart
would I see something new
not viewed the day before
when I look to the beyond
I'll discover the inner thoughts?

the outside has remained
fixed as if to harshly jest
still this is not enough
to deter the hopeful glance
a witness to what few may see
from the realm of normality
what came before is not in play
even though they are dismayed

this matters not when I rise
fix my intent to fully live
even if the uniform
does not match the role assigned
there is the life of the regime
actions taken for their sake
by agreement of the whole
and to these codes I'll uphold

the intent is paramount
when doubt hovers all around
enough to block out the sun
without remorse in early dawn
when I wake in the morn
I'm quite sure of who I'll see
standing there to greet the day
behind the facade of mirror's face.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190423.

The ‘if only’ has its laugh
presenting options out of reach
both bless with beauty and big of heart
forever distant by age’s scoff

this light scorn has a light touch
forever distant yet still pleasant
by the whiff that I detect
the fragrance sent with no impact

surely past invoked the same
yet I missed the liberty
presented on a satin plate
then passed over in my haste

to grow older was my goal
move beyond the young years
somehow my aim betrayed
as I swooned to elder age

now “if only” is the norm
comedy by wheel’s turn
displaying beauty I recognize
if only whims were realized.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180804.

Frankenstein was a master
I'm my own, it doesn't matter
when the parts of my whole
become a monster to the world
the brute exists at the peril
of innocents walking round me
little do they know their place
conjoined within my broken frame.

The outside scars are my frame
connecting tissue disparate
if I'm a work of macabre art
this mural's marked by tissue's grain
too many sources become the one
torn from the shadows near at hand
fiends or beasts are mirrored there
teasing madness from my brain.

If my mouth still had lips
perhaps the screams would be mine
a sharp response to the harm
blossoms fruit that I'll detest
as the knife cleaves the flesh
I'll add the new with ****** thread
a little's lost with no gain
my life diminishes with the pain.

These hands resign to their fates
right from left are ignorant
of what the other may conspire
to collude with spirit's bane
I'm Frankenstein borne anew
both the master and the brute
standing tall on borrowed time
seeking salve I now reject.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180403.

If we were villains
the world would topple
in tears embellished
with contrite sorrows

drowning the ruins
six fathoms under
while life disperses
above dim waters

the moon remembers
how the light lingered
before the sun left
spread of the heavens

now the staid headstones
markers of memory
stand in the darkness
aside calm marshes

perhaps gods forget
wrongs done in anger
when outcomes linger
past best intentions

the bones are scattered
in perfect hindsight
remind all of outcomes
if we were villains.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190101.

I once learned to love the world
or to point, a single one
capital L with all the bows

guarantees heard in my head
to this piper I walked the line
while the world was found deaf

the end result was too much
in between the wrong and the right
crucified in Hell’s hot fire

love betrayed me at long last
delivering nothing in its taunts
I’ll forget to now survive.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170902.

I asked the gods how I could pass
remove myself from life's path
step away at long last
to find a peace beyond the pain
they replied with sage advice
though the tone had my voice
still I looked to their words
seeking knowledge for a cure

"first step away from the rest
become the speck that no one sees
by the lack of showing up
fade away like the fog
the pain you hold is your own
nobody cares in their joy
happiness spreads across the land
hold the anguish deep inside"

"in the second become the heel
disregarded where once you shined
for in that praise the focus holds
like the anchor on the shoals
disappoint with small drops
dissuade the care others have
for your efforts then maligned
eroded by noxious acts"

these somber gods had their say
planning how I could withdraw
their dulcet words found fertile soil
with the promise I so longed
once I'm gone none shall cry
when I'm wiped from memory
or cursed for what I reaped
the sole response is a shake of head

a broken specter of past promise
no longer seen in the light
put out of mind lest I taint
records acclaiming purity
this end result becomes the goal
the strategy now set in place
I'll step away by stealth and stain
to find the peace I desire.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180614.

Illusion casts a gentle balm
medicine for the questing soul
describing life with due resolve
garments worn outside of norms
draped in unfamiliar ways
fabric is now on display

distraction made all too real
found in whirling skirts
now that clothes are worn to please
no longer kept in closet’s space
brought to floor as dancers spin
only knowing joy’s rapt refrains

euphoria found at hem's length
be it short or stretching forth
to caress the legs’ course
both tickle needs that joy explores
contentment found in beauty’s jest
now possessed to find the rest

against the judgment of the gods
rebellion becomes fashion’s goal
demanding much of society
as the normative is displeased
still the cure is surely worn
illusion cast to become my form.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190410.

The veil of years have obscured
emotions felt that linger cold
heart’s possessions words describe
hiding embers in poetry
kept there safe so I’m assured
what I’ve lost may be found

a woeful bard declares the rhymes
to remember past tenderness
weaving these in lyrics blessed
thus I’ll hide the memories
layered in my many poems
across the span of tearful odes

asking muse to evoke joy
from the dust my pen inscribes
in echoed halls I’ll describe
there the flame may still burn
with no heat to warm my heart
because it’s illusion of the words.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170710.

The images put to the page
promise more than life can bring
in short segments that defy
reality shared by culture’s breadth

one could ask how it began
standards set few can hold
in the body or act
illusion spun to ludicrous

proportions spun to the absurd
then presented as routine fare
far beyond what can be found
in the realm of normal life

comical would be the call
put aside as clownish acts
except for the obsession found
in consumers of the tripe

that ivory tower few can climb
put to tape or printed sheet
stated as the standard found
taunting those walk below

still the plebes will attempt
to pursue the model set
stoking anger when they fail
to replicate illusion’s path.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180526.

I'll whisper your beauty to the gods
have them listen at morning's dawn
perhaps they'd accept my offering
hear my awe because I’m blessed

when night's curtain is withdrawn
to show the paramour in my bed
I wonder how this came to be
that darkness concealed one so bright

my speech returns at long last
as the sun begins to rise
chasing blackness from the room
revealing all that I enjoyed

the soft and hard, all the curves
the long lines that I explored
valleys plumbed in my quest
finding pleasure with the heights

the shadow departs as I speak
witness leaving before they're caught
called to answer for our acts
when they are innocent and we are not

it matters not because it's done
the gods have witnessed far too much
I pray they'll respond to my words
allow another night to turn to dawn.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170822.

Imagination spawns the doting hoax
ready to match desires bespoke
from the weave of rapt desires
disconnected from the now

seen in mirrors of the self
awareness spawn by experience
don't ask the gods for wisdom's boon
to move beyond knowing's doom

still the seamstress must persist
with harlequins as consequence
mocking truth with blind intent
to see the world without sight

these revelations of personhood
dressed up with no place to go
when expectations fail to view
the reality perceived by you.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191104.

Imagine ghosts gathered round
sight unseen in their resolve
extend existence for a time
with a promise of delight

the living act as willing hosts
when amusement is the lure
desires extended to attract
those who seek carnality

these spirits go by other names
inducing lewdness as the reward
riding hosts until the dawn
then asking for another turn

fiends acknowledged in the end
it’s too late for the dismayed
flush by diversions of the flesh
this bait leading to the abyss.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191031.

of all the people I could wish
to know my life in this moment
there is a soul above all else
who stands apart the here and now

the separation of the miles
too many for a quick jaunt
is a barrier that confounds
if worst did not compound

there is a god in heaven above
who judges the chaff from the grain
religion brought up a wall
breaking bonds that defied time

to this I'll cry a thousand times
know separation in my heart
of all the people I could wish
there is one to whom I'm dead

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180218.

When the entire world is safe
normative in all its realms
immersion blinds those within
to realities that are hazardous
when speech is weaponized
blunt to the bearer of the words
a mere game to win or lose
losers must be found to play.

This imbalance hides from sight
for those in power’s seat
they care to maintain a place
with conservative as their motif
when dialogue flows one way
fears are not the same
it’s about power sought for self
endangering those on the fringe.

The slight becomes ego’s wound
asking for harsh recourse
dogma states all the rules
tenets prodding actions on
the hydra with a thousand heads
the crowd is the bully’s friend
sent to suppress a minority
unable to resist in the same.

War becomes their sole career
gains are notches on the belt
blood is the satisfaction
taken on the edge of talk
when the entire world is safe
except for the victims sought
immersion blinds those within
to the crimes they celebrate.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170704.

I'd forgotten how to live
as a sleep-walker in the din
shuffling feet against the noise
looking down instead of up
I'd thought the end had come before
this mistake made by God
that I was still too much alive
not interned deep in the ground.

The world still turned in its wheels
now two dimensional in detail
gray was the truest tint
while rainbows tempted me
so much to see with cold promise
that nothing warmed my numb hands
matched by a body I'd divorced
from pursuit of desire's course.

Then the flame filled my eyes
sparked the coals nearly ash
embers stoked I thought were dead
resurrected to burn again
now the chill is put aside
if only for a moment's blink
nothing more may come of this
still I welcome the brief respite.

The ego’s mind assumes control
reminds the spirit of its place
do not expect inferno's heat
outside of fleeting recompense
yet I'm reminded that I'm alive
still responding to passion's touch
with a statement that exclaims
I'm not dead, just getting by.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171027.

The world bends in this space
put to task in face of joy
when consent is manifest
as music plays to set the tone

notes are transport for the heart
not turned to love, instead to like
of the company near at hand
held close enough to block the world

we two souls would walk alone
seeking comfort from the storm
are brought together to find bliss
if for a moment, or a few more

creating more than I could ask
boon passed down by God’s grace
though the pundits would differ
they’re not the ones that I embrace

at this point the dance recedes
glorious path is put aside
no longer focus of my step
when an angel fills my arms

smile bedecking lovely frame
I’ll hold them close in this space
reality consumed by joy
if for a moment, I’m now blessed.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180121.

This imperfect mirror of other eyes
conveyed by actions and of words
presenting hints of identity
sent to those outside of me

these reflections of the source
offer hints unto themselves
that relevance may be found
beyond my own unseeing eye

with a blindness born of place
unable to see what life contrived
that sad assortment of good and bad
no longer knowing which die was cast

an arrange of a different sort
from the norm reflections cast
still I seek to meet their gaze
to see myself through telling sight.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190704.

If importance was the mark
the measure of a life's worth
I'll submit myself to the purge
elimination of life's scourge
judgment taints this riposte
spun by the self in response

decisions made are exiled
from the health of the mind
what came before is not enough
instead the lack is brought forth
declaring failure in the midst
of contributions gone to waste

the untidy remnants sadly wane
no longer needed by the elite
cast aside when the gods
ascribe their works from above
attempts to fly are then denied
interlopers are not allowed

to intrude without consent
in the realms of the divine
it’s the worth that states a gap
with importance as currency
now I’m the pauper in the end
declining life now bankrupt.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190319.

Imposter spun from verity
impugning true prosperity
falsehoods of the first degree
imagined for self’s pedigree

comfort is given without regret
to the others that connect
with the nature identified
by the honesty of the mind

these labels affirm accomplishment
thought illegitimate for the self
this is the greatest of all lies
when to others this could apply

success is thought for other folks
don’t fall prey to this joke
there are no frauds when the work
confirms the fear to be a ****.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200117.

Walls tall enough to hide the sun
assuming it was there at all
provide the cell I shall escape
if doom will have its way
horrors lurk in each corner
whispering promises none should hear
evoking screams that few heed
echo loudly in response

resounding themes of egress
though not based in hope’s sweet balm
that was lost long ago
when alarms became confused
now the peels of distant bells
lead to outcomes worse than death
as the mirrors forever face
rebounding terror felt within

the outward is replaced
without regard for what may come
ruins without bars
when sanity no longer stands
the corridor is always there
allowing exit from this jail
ideation provides the path
imprisonment is still preferred.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181018.

By dream or dance I’m released
from a curse of hating self
dysmorphia lurking in the mind
escaped in sleep or by jig

either is a welcome break
there is no judgment that I face
from the self with decree
that shame is due in figure’s wake

in one world I’m beyond
the mortal coil of waking life
with the angles all too cruel
aped in mirrors I despise

the illusion denies my age
suspended in amber vision
denying what came before
perception’s verdict oh so kind

the other realm is movement’s grace
belying size or corporal space
when the joy envelops me
stepping light with music’s tune

motion blinds the critical
only seeing spin and pass
across the body, turn of foot
exquisite distraction I adore

one or the other is what I seek
relief from voices that only jeer
mocking form, derisive vents
numbing by the volume spent

these I’ll put behind me when
I sleep or dance at last blind
to the taunts I can’t abide
by dream or dance I’m released.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171111.

I apologize to the world
for imperfections they endure
while I struggle to commit
to the covenants in which I’m snared

righteousness flows so easily
assurity of what should be
demands put the lesser folk
this servant jumps when provoked

to find favor with masters' wish
remedies must be put in place
no room to deviate
from requests a world dictates

failure is the final way
invertible by fate's mandate
leaving me with little fare
to support my flawed discourse

the positive is an accident
recognition is the mistake
aberrations that I dismiss
just wait until I fall again

then there are the skeletons
rows in closets I keep barred
from the eyes that would denote
failings not overlooked

there is one fix that will resolve
the chain of errors I evoke
while it's the greatest of them all
at least it bring this to an end

this is my hope before I go
the parting gift of a pained soul
a last apology for all mankind
'I'm sorry' done one more time.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171115.

Pardon me if I disbelieve
that bumping ugly is still a thing
even though the evidence
states quite the opposite
the fair practices once pursued
enjoyment of the lovely views
are now lost to distant days
spawned from acts that cured malaise

purity is circumscribed
by a god in holy writ
even as adherents longed
for the same as lust implores
indulgence taken in the flesh
look to the testament that came before
there the needs were clearly met
taunting me as consequence

to consider religion’s rules
this slows few with dire decrees
company found without clothes
for the sake of coitus’ charm
a convent would be the home
suited for my dearth of joy
there the belief would support
the nothingness of incel’s cult.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190810.

The time of youth in lost years
was a period just as real
as the ones experienced

by the young of today
repetition of the themes
echoes quietly in the halls

as the past is disbelieved
in the faces of the antiques
loves and losses took a toil

the stumbling steps to joy’s realm
are renewed once again
each endeavored with the same

as the period must recur
even though it seems absurd
look to the young to see the old
in due time they’ll return.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190226.