Doors exist in other realms
leading to the here and now
allowing travel to progress
until today is the past’s gain

reflection of what came before
once the edge of everything
fades in the memory of the world
forgetting where now was born

arrangements already made
before the present is displayed
stating what will advance
beyond the veil of present time

those portals asking for review
of how journey turned around
what tomorrow may present
in the eyes of future past.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191004.

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.

The celebration is for the ones
left behind when all is done
with glad knowing of the deeds
committed in the name of need

intentions set for vacant joy
the quick drug to be explored
passed around for all to use
there’s enough for full abuse

while the fix may seem enough
cacophony for guffaws
the end result is not enough
to lift the dead from their slump

recognition damns the souls
with sad statements made in jest
for a body meant for dust
when the decades run their course.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190619.

Don’t ask the gods if they sent
sedatives to cure the pain
those aches of body’s frame
or the trials of mind’s domain

indulgence in the medicine
not prescribed but still pursued
by the drink or much more
addressing woes all deplore

removing more than agony
when composure is reduced
inebriation of the whole
in pursuit of the profane

to be wasted is called a sin
this sacrament now denied
even as the misery
demands a world that’s more humane.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190817.

She wore the shadow of life's travails
echo of a thousand days
I sought the source to no avail
until I realized it was herself

sourced from depths few could plumb
a silent cloak wrapped round her frame
with light within peeking out
starlight shown in deepest night

polite dispassion would turn away
why I did not, I cannot say
unless the answer is that I felt
the same phantoms within myself

silhouettes against the glare
recognition across the veil
lost in the crowd we did not share
shadows’ blur wrapped round our frames.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180111.

“What have you done?”
the ending sentence for a world
demanding answers never heard
when final doom was the last word

the echoes of the thunderclaps
reverberation of the dead
provides the tempo for the song
describing how things went wrong

heard by nobody of sound mind
or any mortals if truth be told
while this verity is on center stage
the audience is not there to clap

unless the ghosts are contrived
to be witnesses to the crime
what was done will always be
pondering at the end of reality.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191222.

It’s the beginning of the end
though this would be a lie
the event has long crept aside
like a shadow that demands all

there is a charge to complete
contracts are drawn for the short-term
even as the commitments that last
are put aside along with the pain

in this effort the world contracts
no longer wide underneath my feet
as the width becomes my arms
pulled to my sides as I withdraw

silence is forced upon my ears
no longer hearing pleas of concern
when they’re imagined to be mute
until it’s too late to heed otherwise

these are choices I can make
a self-fulfilling prophecy
spawned from seeds that have no place
in the well soul of the happy heart

now the end comes closer still
by my efforts the doom will loom
until it consumes my very soul
forfeit to the shadow’s taint.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180701.

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.

The drawer has emptied over time
one-thirds cleared as if to comply
with an absence that demands doom
this lack of spoons in present time
those holders of passions pressed
into realms of thriving health
growth beyond the wounded state
is then paused by lack of ready grace

there’s left behind the substitutes
each with a cold purpose set
neither an equal on their own
perhaps together life will resolve
easily fitting into a palm
poor replacement for what’s been lost
the fates continue nonetheless
even if spoons are not at hand

the first demands useful works
that poke and lift of the fork
utility of a long workday
is manifest by implement
crafting worlds without a soul
absent thought of questing hope
this allows the days to unwind
even as the will slowly die

the second cuts with an edge honed
removing meat from the bone
a knife’s edge would cease the pain
at the price of future days
separation that seems to heal
when pain is dropped from the deceased
now lack of spoons has bequeathed
that work combines with edged leave.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190907.

Hangers take what they give
this is a purpose to which I’ll sing
evoke the muse within these words
to ascribe a mythic course
the imaginary is released
now made real by a thought’s need
by arrangements brought back and forth
from the closet of shuttered dreams

when the old is retrieved
marked with the dust of time
the raiments of past purpose
are now void in the light
the new is put in their place
euphoria found in the threads
transformation for the soul
while the outer is consoled

alignment is asked from the stars
garments worn to only please
to surely know joy's refrain
if only the mirror would share this claim
the confusion is foreseen
put aside when a choice is made
to grace a hanger with a garb
embellish life with due regard.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190411.

The vile is compared to the best
this turn of word to express
exaltation none shall deny
against the **** that's always foul

the very worse stated there
imagined vice in duress
while paragons with halos set
are the home team without regret

punching at the straw man's breast
damning sins that don’t exist
the result is simplified
as ill thoughts are justified

contrasting with a cardboard form
exemplary in biased thoughts
the very worse against the best
there’s no truth in this contest.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190922.

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.

Reminders borne on angels' wings
of worth beyond what I can see
this blindness pushed to one side
when the simple then presides
these loving nudges against the bulk
of the pessimism in the self

mix of gloom and despair
melancholy is the refrain
blocking out the rays of hope
now imagined in history
chronology that’s replaced
without regard for consequence

a passing reference of remorse
perhaps the faith was made of smoke
the pressing doubt cries for help
day to night seeks resolve
it’s a darkness without reprieve
until the light is retrieved

from the cloak of a chum
this artifact of loving jest
to mock the crush with a laugh
the seraph’s charm taking flight
scales are removed in the end
balance tipped by a friend.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190612.

All these poems are testament
to a world found within
the writer with the muted pen
expressing words that disappoint
these desires ask too much
prompting readers to perceive
what is barely recognized
against the screen of inner thoughts

the prose falls flat in response
gibberish that damns the tongue
even while the tumbled talk
arrays a legion of impotence
a thousand weapons making noise
firing blanks into the sky
wishing outcomes that define
something past the written lies

each vowel stands without a voice
the consonants are the same
still the volume turns upward
past eleven in churning words
a vehicle to explain
is found imperfect after all
with no one put to blame
removing readers from the shame

life is more than words may glimpse
when the depths have no end
to shine a light into that well
asks much more than poems share
the whispers will proclaim
what they may in resonance
hoping a single soul
acknowledges the muffled tones.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190330.

Beware the ones that espouse
ideology as their war cry
saying less with each yell
as the volume find new heights
this choice of word is enough
to alarm the marginalized
now that comforts are arrayed
as conspiracy they’ll deny
claiming a system is at hand
political whims of ill intent
replacing humanity under fire
with righteous statements that conspire

agenda is another term
suspect upon utterance
look to lists that don’t exist
dictated by imagined folk
these imps that dwell within
fabrications of soliloquies
the ranks filled with strawmen
each ascribed with ****** hands
spoken from the pulpit's stage
for an audience without shame
don’t turn your back on this affair
contrived within malicious minds

now the hate is fully formed
statements made of strategy
as real as the fetid lies
barked without sound regard
except to rouse the army’s rage
stamp the feet against the floor
villains found at scripted ends
words twisted to draw blood
so deny these paths to the ones
monsters in the guise of men
speaking louder than the refrain
words that follow are murdering.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190408.

Close the eyes for a time
when space invites a quick retreat
instead allowing the senses’ span
to invade vision's land

sound moves to music’s pace
words to sounds in close rapport
inspiring thoughts that fly above
the span of earth beneath the soar

returning raindrops to the ground
splashing softly upon dry skin
angels blessing with their tears
the mortals striving to exist

these beings seeking touch
to address the quiet voids
connection absent if none acquire
something to sate the rapt desires

twilight enveloped beneath soft sheets
the day experienced is complete
now the eyes are closed tight
treasuring moments without sight.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190428.

Excuse the ****** some deplore
disclosed in words as they explore
so much more than clothes removed
the breadth of skin then exposed

just a glimpse when compared
to the flow of note’s discharge
dropped on the page in a stream
with souls undressed as result

secrets told without regard
in the buff by outcome
the inner self instead of flesh
disrobing more with every tell

in the end the truth is told
nakedness beyond the fold
don’t look away lest one miss
a birthday suit by writ’s admit.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190815.

When there is so much love to give
there is never enough time to live
the latter too short as consequence
of the former demanding recompense

the many sorrows of the world
with lords’ challenge as the source
array against the yearning hearts
wishing more than plaintive thoughts

those empty gestures of the prayers
demands to gods that don’t care
when trials exist to test the weak
breaking wills beyond reprieve

still the love will try its best
extend to measures within its grasp
asking those who truly care
to step beyond despair's snare.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191214.

I came here for the ocean breeze
to hear the lap of distant waves
this was written for all to see
on the page of a resume

this seems romantic at first glance
a desire to work in glamour’s place
you’d wonder why a frown betrays
other motives now in play

another face there to serve
legion questing to relax
I live to serve all their needs
would you like fries with that drink

no longer are the wages earned
palm trees etched in the dusk
beauty framed as the sun sets
now I lapse to why I’ve slaved

anonymous in austere bliss
the retinues reduced to one
serving meals without refrain
of any voices beside my own

I’ll now admit that seaside views
are the same as cityscapes
when the outcome is the same
becoming faceless in paradise.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180621.

Seek the villain at your risk
the mirror that most repress
wearing hats shared by all
even saints before their fall
miscreants much like yourself
with virtue held above all else
except when pleasure is at stake
then integrity is misplaced

when this foible is observed
have forgiveness for the failed
lest the monsters take offense
at trespass upon their sphere
seek not unearned liberties
easy pickings that come with grief
there is a price to company
among the fallen that complain

instead admit the frailty
that comes with life in this frame
mortal flesh seeking more
than austerity may explore
bless the villains for their place
among the paragons now displaced
feet of clay are obvious
shared by all in mirror’s face.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190416.

Who they were is no more
formally known before passing
resurrected at the bequest
of one person, their very self
the butterfly is born to fly
from the form that came before
once thought the perfect shape
normality then transformed

the questing one journeyed far
beyond the walls that defined
security beloved by all
now the chains that hindered life
cast aside though some may ask
the garbs then worn to replace
manacles no longer bound
to discover freedom’s bliss

now the conflict has been resolved
the balance turned to find itself
when safeguards are not enough
what once nurtured is denied
disregarded for health’s sake
the deepest lies are unwound
when the mask is put aside
one shall live, the other dies.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180618.

If I could stand as a spark
scant example to like minds
this existing becomes too small
to have some meaning beyond this shell
my slight ember is too weak
to purge the darkness of dire ills
dispassion banished from this plane
is fever dream of dogma's slaves

a mere breeze would be enough
to ***** the vibrance from my life
even as I find my way
shining brighter and still fragile
contrary views are manifest
combining raging tempest winds
with inferno’s appetite
claiming all who choose to fight

against the scourge of normative
intolerant asking for the right
to crush their fears by any means
resulting gloom is victory
half a bubble, if not more
my defiance from the mark
a small candle in these words
inviting other to share their light

the combined will not be squelched
no matter what their urgent wish
tyrants rage when they’re denied
when the stage is shared by all
clustering sparks against our doom
illuminate what many share
celebrate with blinding fire
whose who stand at my side.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180512.

The darkest days are the ones
that relegate my self-worth
to the end of the line
behind the wants of other ones
if the measure denies the self
considering betters above all else

when their thoughts are paramount
ruling all from high perch
supremacy comes in all forms
elevation the top concern
stating who will matter most
when plans evoke action’s push

they know best after all
divining wisdom from the gods
stating what must occur
for the world to turn in its course
to these masters I bend a knee
accepting that I’m ignorant

not allowed to witness life
above the trenches where I’m stuck
satisfied with crumbs that fall
emotions dip in response
my self-worth will reflect
the press of life upon my head.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190317.

I asked if I was beautiful
in the form I am entrapped
while seeking forms now estranged
by a nature based on genes

the world rejoined remarks
my choices made to enclose
a body defying norms
when fitting into the gowns

splendour was obscured
lost while it’s explained
a flurry of here and there
combined to share the pith

this goddess lost to sight
hoping some will see the belle
in garments of lady’s shade
glamour of the heart

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181102.

The dreams came too cheap
with a price none should meet
even though the sign announced
the trivial paid instead of life
advertisements of the end
disguised as hopes none shall have

while angels cry from on high
knowing souls will be lost
flashing in the neon lights
dyed red by the past
****** ink that won’t wash out
luring futures to their doom

the game is on in the back
all can play while none shall win
to escape is the goal
straight into traps set by lies
rattled dice against the curb
tempt the marks out of luck

spouting promises that can’t be kept
even as the die is cast
snake eyes will be the draw
nothing is given for all too much
rest the bones now that the cheat
has had their way in the end.

2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190224.

When a world dreams the next
three small wishes become one
each with the knowledge of the last
until the natal is surpassed

a first asks for a new day
demands existence to coalesce
against the tides of ignorance
combined with fears few admit

the second grasps rainbow tears
puts to sleep the tendencies
to look behind when progress asks
forward movement at long last

a final third belies the rest
for the progress thus attained
when the curtain falls to ground
the new is old in sad discharge.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190811.

Proximity expands the world
without distractions that intrude
judgments spawned by the eye
dissolve when truth is realized
denying lies that dissuade
connections blessed as consequence
invoking joy where pundits taunt
their ignorance is paramount

that pettiness of life spent
marking scores inside the mind
would deny the status found
in an embrace some would reject
they measure beauty with false hope
that vision knows the hidden realms
while denying the greater need
to feel another while we live

when the intimate is understood
divine touch transcends the flaws
the latter being ephemeral
illusion cast to the side
imperfections melt away
if they were there anyway
when the treasure is revealed
in comforts clasped without regret.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190309.

How do you talk to the friend
who’s company you may not have
in a day or in a week
if the demons have their say?

communication is not lost
a desire to share the world
instead the cause is forgot
as the chasm opens up

by a gesture or a word
the feather falls on the camel’s back
a thousand fiends have their day
the harvest gained as bones crack

breaking what stood so tall
buffeted by many storms
now reduced to longing thoughts
the mighty tree has finally snapped

the contract that most embrace
assuming life will remain
is revealed as a lie
when the disease is a crime

until that time the die’s not cast
in a world of many paths
communicate in good faith
before a heart finally fails.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190525.

The abuse is normalized
when the numbness settles in
another turn around the clock
the same no matter what
repetition is the master's trick
the surest way to ease a mind
subdue the urge to flee
when the tone is misery

the harsh word is mollified
even as the wound is struck
by the promise of emptiness
once the storm has reduced
while the clouds circle round
never fully leaving the sky
casting grays across the earth
without a rainbow ever seen

colors reduced to red and black
splashed with blue to illustrate
that the bruises manifest
from a palette of imp's delight
mixed to black without recourse
to the balm others source
from the lack of injury
or is it something angels keep?

still the outcome is embraced
just another tortured day
until the cycle is expired
by the stain of bloodshed
this is the hope above all else
a wish that lives in the heart
the fondness of the beyond
when life is fully lost.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190205.

Sorry lover but you can’t look back
to the sheets thrown to the floor
forgotten while bodies press
ghosts lost to passion’s bliss

promises once had a place
fealty against death’s cold hand
the declarations none will admit
when light of day too soon arrives

strong emotions aren’t cast aside
instead replaced with grounded angst
along with rage of what should be
tears spilled on pillows drenched

promises lost along with pride
if only this came to pass
along with advice none request
sorry lover please don’t look back.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190905.

The goal of being is a task
assigned by those who know best
from the rules put to page
bringing most to broad dismay

uniqueness is not a goal
exalted by those above
creating boxes with only walls
padded prisons to shackle souls

with bars for windows lest birds fly
escape to the skies far above
still the freedom may be dreamed
from the comfort of velvet chains

embrace the freedom now denied
pass through to the other side
disavow the offered bane
to be the person behind constraints.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190910.

The accident came by intent
on the wings of friend’s content
put to canvas with pigments towards
three months pursuit of crafting works

the same became my lofty goal
with words replacing painted forms
even though experience
was lacking in the poet’s pen

with each day another poem
was writ to page as purpose turned
from ninety dates to mere ten more
culminating at the year’s close

this happenstance of timing bless
the muse demanded only more
with lucidity in the breach
expression put to public stage

a goal surpassed had been gained
now writing was the habit set
so many couplets spun to state
sanity lost while wisdom’s gained

moving forward into years
with five down and more to go
the accident is now a cause
these words submitted with more to come.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190902.

The acts I perform in pursuit
of the core of who I truly am
are secondary to what’s behind
franker realms that define

the spectrums direct how I bend
observing beauties in my world
this is a filter for God’s grace
the executed shaded thus

these outward deeds may conflict
with the norms of other folk
even as the source is same
prompting acts they dismay

truest love observes the heart
affections lead the physical
feelings prompting what then trails
affirming passions felt within.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180511.

I wonder if the dream contains
both beginning and an end
the sad dawn to final act
or slow torture before my death
I’ve lost the start in the fog
and the future is beyond my sight
into this void I find myself
occupant of numbing fear

the future holds no glad lure
when only days I can endure
what lays beyond is full of dread
I'd avoid if I were dead
this is the cure that I'll embrace
a last resort that's all to real
in the mind that that only see
grinding stress I can't release

in small doses I'll discharge
the poison that fills my life
it's not enough to cure the soul
instead the patient must endure
looking back to the dream
cosmic joke by beggar king
if only laughs would fade
drop the curtain, end my days.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180226.

This wall made of glass
with revelations closely felt
presenting fabric on mannequins
nirvana by the tailor’s craft
designed to closely fold
onto a seeking frame

the comely dearly sought
across gender’s gated space
if only the taunt did not
present in figurines
ignorant of their place
in the war inside the breast

beholden to identity
beyond the normative
this struggle asks too much
****** by a street-side scene
that paradise of the pane
beyond the pleading hand

reality asks too much
that nature did not conceive
now a heart longs for release
by the magic of the display
held behind window’s view
while longing knows certitude.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190527.

Sometimes a breath is enough
to bridge a life beyond the now
even though the way seems barred
by the gulfs that confound

anxiety is the greatest foe
with taint for fear close behind
each has a message that defeats
forward motion one may achieve

whispered advice from the depths
asks for progress to be delayed
turn away from taking air
deep inside the ready lungs

holding stasis even while
a world demands more from time
not realizing the tipping point
has been decided before the plunge.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191207.

The signs exist to be seen
no longer hidden if observed
by the travelers who pursue
adventures found beyond the fade

on paths divergent from the norm
into realms where monsters lay
judged as such by the crowd
with a judgment that’s not shared

those denizens that disagree
knowing life cannot be caged
doors are made to walk through
when the desire finds latitude

nature holds a wide palette
with rainbow’s colors in between
shown to a world that’s not afraid
to read the signs that are displayed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191007.

Listen closely to the voice
warning of the lovely traps
those that beckon from beyond
with entreats that promise charms

beauty turned to drop the guard
of experience sourced from years
knowing right from troubled wrong
now at risk before the plunge

discarded without a thought
in pursuit of false beguile
flirtation with no return
an invitation damning all

this promise of quick delight
hiding doom in hindsight
listen closely to the call
to walk away before the fall.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191001.

Moving forward offers hope
something more than what's deplored
this distrust is my own
resolving motion will be a cure
to remain will be an end
consumed by hatred from within
never trying, the greatest sin
with damnation near at hand

twisted palaces tower high
built on foundations made of lies
pure disgust would be its name
lurking deep inside the brain
rationalization spring to mind
stating hatred from mankind
against the mirrors of the void
only gracing ideal flaws

rote imperfection becomes a curse
mutterings by the disturbed
yet there’s a way to overcome
relinquish pain for so much more
deny the voices that hold the chains
look to the road the sun reveals
there the cages are no more
bent to bridges instead of walls

the distance traveled is so small
enough to claim comfort’s prize
blessings heaped upon the ones
who dare to pass to the sun
there the travelers may convene
compare discoveries few have seen
absent of the troubled thoughts
the future waits in the beyond.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190404.

These portraits hung in hidden halls
statements made to the self
awaiting the hallowed day
when revelation will prevail

against the restraint of concern
that asks too much in return
wishing nothing to be told
lest the price be too much

now concealed from preview
behind the bulk of shuttered doors
same as the windows to the soul
both restrict lest the goods be shown

to be regular would unlock the gates
this passing as the normative
even while this gallery
hides the portraits from public gaze.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190703.

There is appeal in release
responsibility put aside
as if the soul can’t accept
obligation to do things right
there is a method here at hand
madness grasped to ease the flock
surety from mouths of men
sad decrees that chain the mind.

With the work already done
bless dogma put down to the page
all that’s left is to adhere
to the edicts inscribed there
the monsters will the words
those best intentions of past age
focus on the parts they like
put aside contrary thoughts.

Into this hell the faithful walk
asking only what to do
no matter how the inner voice
screams shrill caution to be heard
still the warmth from the flames
consumes the souls as they bask
in the rightness they’ve been told
as greater truth is renounced.

There is a day when gaps are shown
in the armor made of faith
that larger realm of the world
outside control of masters’ chains
comfort lost is wisdom gained
revelation of the larger game
with no walls that block the view
what’s left is more than most can take.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180304.

The private hell is construed
from the warped inner truth
verity gone as consequence
in the landscape that grace forgot

“a lie” says the honest man
without the reference of the condemned
who knows worth has been lost
against the angst of inner thoughts

this tableau without regard
for salvation that’s possible
to maintain a modicum
of a shelter against the storm

instead the abyss is embraced
a netherworld without the sun
reflecting a void felt within
waiting for the world to fade.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190917.

Floating gentle on the wave
only felt within the brain
hidden from the sight of those
wondering why the need exists

a delightful fuzz that consumes
agitation of the mood
always there beyond the veil
responsibility that must prevail

damning all to turn the wheels
creating thirsts of the soul
asking lubrication to extend
to the balm of troubled woes

a comfortable numb with regard
for the depths of agony
escaped at last in the waves
dependence spun from craving’s needs.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190823.

Mortality is the greatest boon
to those who reason the future's course
firm in the knowledge they'll be gone
when disaster comes flying home

to sleep with the ease of babes
no worries present on the mind
this is the gift of dying soon
laying down before the doom

the money palmed is enough
down-payment on the graves
not yet dug in grieving earth
that will come at decade's time

this currency dipped in blood
bright enough to raise alarm
still the merchants will complete
a barter made by blind decree

allegiances of the short term
handmaid to the monster's birth
are the mark assigned to Cain
now embossed to their shame

they'll expire before the bill
is called due by the earth
**** their bones in aftermath
when the outcomes are beheld.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190601.

The stage is set once again
a tarp put down to catch the blood
with a backdrop to accentuate
an end foretold by stalking fate

what could be is doomed to fail
except to ask hope to prevail
even as the tiresome trek
demands detours into dread

once again the faith is crushed
gods are ****** in the dust
beholden to the sacrifice
their gaze observes the final price

the implement has been set
disappoint hone to an edge
waiting for the nod to slice
to the bone without respite.

2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190903.

Some may ask if I’m taking space
from the ones that best reflect
what it is to be recognized
with a validity set for sacred gaze
identity defined by the bounds
clearly broken by their narrative

an extreme that none contest
when presented to the whole
these avatars set to illustrate
permission given to claim a prize
while the rest are declared
defective by cold comparison

pretenders to the holy crown
desiring glory not their own
this is the cry from the ones
promoting pride in the extreme
paragons of the standard’s mark
illustrating the desired height

tend the gate through which all pass
before identity is applied
lest the dialogue of the whole
be distracted from the flow
of the deserved hoist above
this lost soul not confirmed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190706.

Fame escapes those who strive
to explain the span of life
heights and depths that truly shine
while the author is denied
they still exist for the muse
supplying skills to the crafts
an artifice that is blind
even as the vision strives

something more than guidelines
the mundane is left far behind
exploration few observe
that formulas do not ascribe
comfort left to plumb the depths
beyond the shores defining life
only the mundane may provide
safety in the web of lies

looking to the corners where
the dark exists outside of light
denying glory for disgrace
the ordinary at best embraced
full obscurity will then claim
a child birthed without regard
for the heights some attain
absent while the art’s displayed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190424.

The revolution spoke in the streets
in long ranks the common walked
with the signs drawn by hand
emotion marked in color’s strokes

demanding shifts by those above
those in power would not budge
when left to their own device
change will not fill their heart

when the power would not bend
the echelons remain in place
there is one way to make them fall
remove the base of their support

numbered by the common folks
standing strong on their feet
transformation from below
tearing down what does not work.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180324.

I’ll lay with the demons
imps from the fold
to ask them their names
then hear the tales told
there lay the truths
narration of pain
absent the lies
that comfort may bring

words etched in flesh
to bring the warmth
the sting is a balm
absent the cold
the flames of the pit
defrost my heart
when sibyl tongues
attract their own kind

I’ll count myself
among this fae crowd
lending my body
as parchment drawn on
the most private of words
in arms of the fiends
is counted as gospel
when names are exclaimed.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190212.

Consider a realm where this poem
is unread by mortal eyes
not one sentence witnessed here
finds its way to viewer’s grace

this happenstance of the muse
tossed like a bottle beyond the shore
without a purpose except to state
dictation meant for higher realms

taunting gods in surly jest
for the pains words can’t express
lines inscribed that disappear
perhaps they were never here

the whine with cheese in a poem
now at the end in reader’s eyes
with cheerful thanks even as
the void consumes words not meant to last.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190829.