I never write love poems.
I think it's because I'm afraid to

open up & feel so vulnerable.
I'd have to look inside my heart,
to write something beautiful,
intimate,
and heartfelt.
I'd have to embrace the warmth,
and reflect on the lingering traces,
of the hand once in mine.
The love that once had it's time.

I'm afraid to confront those feelings.
I'm afraid to commit to love,
even if it's the everlasting type,
where two stars collide,
in the afterlife,
like they did milleniums before.

I've been hurt so deeply.
In ways I haven't felt before.
I'm not sure I can take it anymore.

But I dream of not being afraid of love.
One day,
I'll write love poems.
I'll find the person worth writing lines,
and stanzas about.
One that makes me forget we're in a drought.

last summer
I met a boy of 6 feet tall
he is two years older than me
he listens to punk rock
has an alcoholic father,
and his kisses
are sweeter than honey
and softer than silk

we spent countless, long, dreamy
cold, rainy, humid
nights
in my backyard
with the smell of too much hairspray
which I can not bring myself to smell again
and mosquito spray which I never apply anymore
11pm
4am
the hours passed by like minutes, seconds

under the stars
telling secrets
I was scared
scared of losing him
even though he was already lost

fading
disapearing
slowly and then all at once

hallways
silence
stares
me alone
him and her

11pm
4am
hours seem like eternitys, milleniums
crying
flashbacks
thinking about the us that will never be
blood spills on the paper
spelling out your words, promises
do I even cross his mind
maybe  probably not  no

I'm sorry I wasn't
skinny
pretty
funny
admirable
good
enough

I'm sorry

we didn't even say goodbye

goodbye, Brandan

OUT of the testimony of such reluctant lips, out of the oaths and mouths of such scrupulous liars, out of perjurers whose hands swore by God to the white sun before all men,
  
Out of a rag saturated with smears and smuts gathered from the footbaths of kings and the **** cloths of ******, from the scabs of Babylon and Jerusalem to the scabs of London and New York,
  
From such a rag that has wiped the secret sores of kings and overlords across the milleniums of human marches and babblings,
  
From such a rag perhaps I shall wring one reluctant desperate drop of blood, one honest-to-God spot of red speaking a mother-heart.December, 1918.Christiania, Norway

Imagine what
No human mind can gauge
Count the countless years
Milleniums and miles
We had to cross
To meet


Imagine here
This fateful rendezvous
Ordained before the stars
Before old Sol
Above us there
Was christened blue


Imagine now
To culminate a love
That came so far
And finally
The merging here
Finally....

Give me a pen paper in watch me **** the
Ink once it hits the sheets
Get it this style aint unique
So blink im shuttin' out brains
So ya even cant think
Im the devious dangerous poetic terrorist
So all others can bite the dust
Leave ya stiff as old pizza crust i cant even trust
My own gotdamn self my mind is light years ahead of the game
By the time the catch up all the see is the flames
No smokes but the **** i **** take notes
As i hit you with atomic bomb antedote most cant handle the pain i drop from my brain
Mental epilepsy got em going insane
Hits harder than ******* no shame
To keep my adversaries in pain
Face adversities everyday so im.using to get hate so **** what they say
Im diabolical superior intellectual
Beatin muthaphukkas so bad
They loose they own ******
Preference or agenda **** Propaganda
I stand ya and ill slam ya
In the gravel like a punch from the judges gavel
Milleniums of quotes travel in my mind as it speed
Give me this power thats all in my head
As i read
Out aloud brainstorms without a cloud
Palms filled with the worlds waters and lands
Wrappin up contraband even in Japan
I could make earthquakes wake
Because my lyrical content shakes n wakes
All the masses
Appear to me with *******
I shatter ya soul like broken glasses daily i take passes
From another dimension fools get stuck n detention when i mention
Lyrics rollin off the tip of tongue
Mental lynching
Brains pench clear the bench
Like professor x using his intellect to select
What he wants to control
Yosef is too bold to fold been to war
So i know scold
Politics ******* the mrs devil ****
Imma keep ****** off the media
Til.i touch my casktet drastic fantastic
Gun poppins
What ya see is what ya get
Not talkin dramatics im speakin automatic
Rifles let go as im spittin bullet holes in my foe
Leave em dizzy and wozzy got ya ****** body bubblin' like a jacuzzi dont lose me
When i start to go kick a flow that entice any evil
Dont need to be clarified of this
Dont ya know yosef be the poetic terrorist
Poetic terrorist !!!!

Whence did thou enter my heart
my soul
devour me with thy passion
it doth whelm me
in somewhat of
a musical fashion
a classicals softness
sings in my ears
fused with rock and roll
tis what I hear
how is it that thou dost play
such song
foriegn to my time
hast thou been forward
to another asterism
to another life
whence did thou enter my heart
milleniums ago
or those yet to see
perhaps there twasnt a time
but always were

Sometimes I wonder,
Who I would be,
Without the hollowness,
If I were not,
Haunted by despair,
Would you be here,
Would I be so willing,
To give it all up,
For nothing,
Would I fall,
Shatter and remain,
Broken and desperate,
As I've done for years,
Endless years that blur,
Into milleniums,
Could I feel,
So torn,
As I do whenever I inhale,
The stale air,
Breathing without purpose,
Slowly dying,
Perishing in the dark and cold,
That is the world around me,
Would I be anything,
Without my disposition

We are random shallow creatures

Doing as our God programmed

Seeking answers so elusive

Working hard like cosmic ants

Keeping faith but never knowing

When new hope will come in sight

Always stumbling through the darkness

Then the future turns hard right

Heading for a vortex spinning

Down and down a hole so black

Until the boundaries are full

And pressures start to pushing back

Overstraining the compression

Till inevitably the blast

And as milleniums go past

Slowly, finally, resurrection

In a tiny blade of grass

Milleniums shredded into moments

Decades wound down to a single second

and I've only just found my sound
and addressed it

Like it's the only thing that could save me
and the little things could put me in my grave
But my hands are nothing without the hope
and faith that somehow something good
is happening somewhere

Maybe it was a long time ago,
before the lizards crawled out
from their ocean soul

Maybe it was the first time our eyes met
and didn't leave their place in space
for hours, and we were transfixed in grace
and drunk
on the holy spirits
of whatever we could find
lying around

Back when I was happy enough to just sit
and hear the sound of your voice
and somehow it validated every choice
I've made and it honestly seemed
like things would never be the same

Remember...
                        A precious glance is never
                              left to chance
            
                         And a touch is never forgotten
                              by the mind of the skin
                                     or those within

And if dreams are just things that we
see when we shut our eyes,
then this must be a dream
cause it still shines when I'm blind

And when I can't see I can still
hear the sound of your voice

And when I can't hear I can still
see the noise

When I can't see I can still hear the sound...

Lets tear this house down
and build it up from the ground

It is human nature to desire death
Especially in this day and age

The world around us has become a collection of instants
From the messages we write up to the noodles we eat

Life goes so fast that we absorb so much at once
Our minds are filled with milleniums
Of words and dates and names of people we will never meet
And knowledge of places we will never go to

Humans live too fast
Our minds faster than our bodies
And when our minds live life to the fullest
We are left with only our bodies

Lie with me on my un-made bed,
So I'll have a place,
To rest my troubled head,
As your heart beats fast,
I'll run with you,
Through the sunsets,
And milleniums of grey,
So we can spend centuries,
We'll sleep on lonely shores,
Forever more, together,
Don't have to care about the past,
The present is all we know,
I'll bury my worries,
Safe with yours,
In the November Snow

i sigh and it sounds empty
like when you jump but there is no fall
when you scream at the top of your lungs but no sound comes out
i sigh and it sounds as hollow as my chest
the biggest cave lays here
it goes on for miles
out of the deepest of my soul
into this world
i sigh and it almost sounds as silent as the moment you decided to never wake up again
as silent as the second after you sighed your last sigh and the clock stopped ticking
as silent as we were because we were all holding our breaths,
hoping we could hear you shifting your eyelashes and lifting your eyelids
as silent as the moment when i knew she had gone but i still waited for months right next to a phone that never rung again.
i sigh and then it hits me
i sigh and i can hear decades, centuries,
milleniums of pain
i sigh and i hear the sigh of a thousand others that were here before me
lived through this
sold their soul to this feeling before me
i sigh for them
i sigh for what's lost
and for what's yet to come
i sigh,
i sigh a sigh so deeply it could be our anthem
as if i'm lifting an empty glass saying
cheers;
we are empty but we are still here
we might have lost some but we will never be defeaten.

One day
he'll marry me
and not just out of obligation

itll have been ten years
since the beginning of my nineth
a decade
lets make it milleniums

i am loved so wholly
my feelings have no holes

Suffering is nature’s course
when Hell is the root source
of experience felt by all
regardless of nature’s call

echoed through centuries
if not the span of milleniums
the denominator of humankind
expressed by words unwound

the best confirm experience
demonstrating insanity
while the worst dilute the pain
denying impact in their essay

one states what others feel
the other destroys the appeal
of suffering sought by all
when damnation is the call.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200208.

The end is made of dreams
I'm inhaling power
Angels are covered with wounds
My house is their house
My bed is theirs
The purple knee is intact
Mirrors are in the weeping willow's belly
Reflecting faces of the past

I'm made of dreams and plans
Evolving from the number of my name
Good Man gave it to me out of love
I do know that by now
Swim to the mirrors with me
They're singing darkred words
Words under the pond's shore
Ancient like milleniums

The beginning evolves from dreams
At night I swam in brightness
Through alleys of legends and pearls
Where dogs bark and mutter
Birds are sleeping in my eyes
Their skin is made of mirrors
I'm looking at you through them

At this place a dream is ending
Under a sky of water
You're awaking in a lagoon
This lagoon is a dimple
Dimple in my laughter
I'm stroking you
Come back, I'm telling you