i need this time of mine
to think, to feel, to act (irrationally)
intertwined between me and you
and what we're destined to do

am i a formidiable enemy?
a legitimate opponent?
or do you choose me
to ruin me?

is there up, is there out?
having prowess no one doubts
when circles bend to squares
under the power of my stare

Seven Scythed Fathers split this Growing Bond
Yet befriended by Common Dives respect
For Growth the Appled Fortunates abscond
And reap your Good Harvest in circumspect
Such Loyalty though Honest in its brew
Hoping for his time may notice and drink
I in my Honour base mixtures in stew
Never up-polled to what he may re-think
Bless, specially, the Welsh in Cat's Charm
And slap my Donkey to walk-up and run
I found the Barter; Whose tweet's harness farm
Smiles of the Tanner and revive his fun.
Although, it would be nice to just confess
And sharpen your Profile to know at best.

There, but for the grace of God, go I
A girl with no name
With a look of desolate embarrassed shame
Laid on a makeshift bed in the quiet alley
But tonight, it's not so quiet
Crowds of well-to-do fortunates
Are making their way to a Concert
A small dog nestles down
Onto a cwtch made of stone
He's her only lively company
On this hellish desolate journey
Whatever is wrong
Here, there is no beautiful song
Society has failed
The girl that's derailed
How many turned to look away from her bed?
How many quiet tears were shed?
How many ignored?
How many cringed?
How many felt guilt seeing her ***** quilt?
How many cared
For the girl with no name
With the look of desolate embarrassed shame?
She's now adopted a blank stare
as she asks  "Any change spare?"
So tonight when you turn in, say a little prayer
Because, but for the grace of God, we could be lying there.

Written by Kris Prevel
June 2014

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.

Teach your children to give and share to less fortunates on their birthdays,
Not take or expect expensive wishes to be fulfilled.

As Friday’s sun descends

A manic grip takes hold of the city.



Shoreditch on Shabbat like

A holy land for revellers.



Here the city ignites, the senses

Are at once dulled and overworked



Suits pull suitcases. Weekend trips

Coincide with business meets



Filling hotel lobby bars

The Ace, card dealt on payments.



Shaven bleached heads

Sidestep less fortunates



Begging for more, more, more

As night turns to morning



And mourning the nighttime

Bodies dance through



As sun ascends - bleaching the eye

but beholden because it let’s us go.

Beauty found extols the muse
to perceive beyond a norm
revelation found in grace
beyond dimension most embrace

something more than curvy shapes
or straight lines without blemish
these exist beyond the norm
while loveliness seeks much more

look to the eyes to see within
hear the voice to note the song
the opus across an innerscape
splendor shown to fortunates

comfort found in the smile
the laugh expressing blessed charm
elegance compounded there
by the love covering all

the end result defies logic
while the muse states their case
even as society
seeks to force their vapid say

that cookie-cutter turned to flesh
now rejected in happenstance
as I found the refinement
beyond the veils that hide the best.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180726.

Donate with an open heart,
Don't choose colour,*** or religion.
Keep an open mind,
For sometimes what you give in charity to less fortunates ,
They sell the items to go and see a movie,
Eat at a restaurant,
Or buy some items that makes them happy.
I think that's okay if it brings them joy,
A respite from their dreary life,
Everyone deserves to be happy,
And by giving if you boost their mental health is also important.
In "Jack and the Beanstalk"
Jack's mum also told Jack to sell the cow to get things they wanted.
It's okay,
Don't feel bad,
Your things fed their mind too.
23/10/2021