Stairs evoked are the norm
anticipated when souls explore
a common sight that deceives
when the veil is not perceived

inclines lead to other realms
with the last in the beyond
a path of safety put aside
when the leap is in the mind

leading up or plunging down
each direction demands a turn
the willingness to commit
to destinations few admit

archways in the midst
of emptiness at top of steps
ruins pretending to be plain
hiding realms at staircase ends.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191105.

Falling in love became routine
another day spent in want betrayed
by the nature of the response
to adoration so cruelly trounced

defeated by something close
to addiction if truth be told
that need to feel so much more
than affection of the slow burn

instead the flames consume the source
while hardly scorching the other ones
those targets of passion’s siren call
unable to hear the desire’s resolve

the apt response is to deny the urge
falling in love at last purged
habits die hard when they’re set
this one discarded with sad regret.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200209.

I kissed a girl who was like me
affirmed by two identities
each knowing their inner truth
reveling in the shared salute

each a deviation from the norm
by percentages expressed in math
this doesn’t matter when the fates
have brought together much the same

the quick embrace of impassioned lips
asks if more should persist
a smooch to bless connections found
confirming fondness linked to love

only time may yet convey
where the kiss may finally lead
with this girl I’d do much more
top to bottom to explore.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200213.

All art is ******
so said the great Klimt
master of gender
put to oiled cloth

expressing emotion
the lens that reveals
well of desires
cloaked in abstract

gold leaf enhances
nature’s pure bliss
attraction to eyes
from curves mixed with lines

back to ******
though I’ve not far swayed
from master’s side
with words put to page

I’ll look to my own
how I echo him
hinting the lewd
while stating the lust

mine is mix
objective one day
subjective another
the blur is my kitsch

exploring dynamics
the spectrum of life
those I inhabit
and those that I love

the craft speaks to carnal
then turns back to skill
beauty expressed
****** revealed.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170930.

Looking back at who I was
behind the direction I’ve maintain
there was a time when I asked where
I’d end up in the now
once I was a younger man
wondering what my purpose was
when the future stretched beyond
the curve my eyes could see.

Which path would I walk
asking guidance to show the way
senior minds turned to view
beyond the veil of youth’s domain
I also asked the oracles
full of intuition's gifts
wise insights were their thing
when they saw more than common man.

These, and more, were not enough
the future was a game of chance
veering towards the probable
then away at fate’s quick whim
as the years clicked away
the answers had little weight
as the past piled behind
the traveler pressed to move on.

Beyond horizon of the day
valleys traveled in dusk’s gloom
the night hides more than it shows
while the mind seeks future’s light
in due time the journey wound
until the rover found his home
with the goal met head on
still I ask where I may go.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171012.

Ask the old ones if they remember
when the vans arrived in the night
taking those dismissed by God
I mean the one that rules this cruel world
the grievous sins of past monsters
brought to bear in time of Shoah
are duly marked in black and white
fading to gray in history’s light.

This is forgotten in modern times
as wise men believe there is a place
to speak with tongues of equal weight
to demons pouring from Sheol
skittering with considered options
torches held high to show their faces
these are the minions for the mighty
allowing the vermin to spread among us.

The wink and the nod from pulpit
covering the leader who has no sorrow
fear is the fuel for what has now bloomed
the poison fast spread, consuming the good
look to the world to ask what’s happened
the old ones would state the obvious
monsters have come from the shadows
the other God rules with night now closing.

2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180128.

Don’t apply the fixed ink
to my skin as a statement
because one day I’ll regret
actions taken fixed in time
that’s the rub of my thoughts
I’ve changing far too much
with my skin as scant space
to illustrate the breadth of life

first consider how I flex
coming out as I am
realization of the shade
brought sight in the light
learning more through decades
discarding visions of past years
what once fit is now outgrown
evolving far to altered states

this tidal wave born of age
seeks to find expression’s page
a place to draw or write a truth
expressed in volumes I can’t conceive
if each shift was a stamp
I’d be covered at my age
with imprints of needle’s point
skin would hide by pics merged

into this void I found a tool
avoiding dye put to flesh
still I must find a way
process history before it fades
ink to paper becomes my craft
molding nicely to my life
with the room I need to state
actions taken fixed in time.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180423.

I dreamt of pomegranates
fruit of the twilight gods
in the glades of Sirkcumsale
on the lap of a new love
they wore a veil that concealed
the death implied alongside birth
each a companion to the lust
delayed as promise bid its time.

First my brow, then my chin
the hand lingered, clad in red
promise pressed into the folds
as their trail moved below
the eyes topped cover’s screen
attention called from the caress
shifting hues from green to red
this seemed normal in dream’s realm.

Irrespective of their gender
the planted kisses plied the pleasure
returned in mass, this is my way
to turn attention to the lips
the embrace is what’s important
once submerged I’ll be the swimmer
comeliness is broached by touch
pulling close with hug and smooch.

I was raptured, I’ll admit
perhaps by an evil jinn
I’ll not attest if that was true
when desire was all I knew
the balance may not be told
it was diversion from the norm
crimson fruit was mine to have
in the glades of Sirkcumsale.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171007.

Beauty is life’s will-o-wisp
luring many to their doom
or distraction at the least
from the path of consequence
it has a purpose, that’s for sure
copulation to survive
as a race that still depends
on two to make the little babe
still the gods would advise
walk away from comeliness
once the goals have been birthed
because the rest will drive you mad.

Society feeds the half-lie
a never ending cavalcade
conveyor belt that’s always fed
with succulent that then decays
what came before was enough
only in the moment’s blush
then fading to be replaced
by fresh meat, union’s call
presented by the tycoons
wanting more than sanity
dollars piled in tall stacks
by libidos they have fanned.

The seduction is complete
I’ve walked into the dire swamp
where once I was far too young
blind to the paths that promised all
now I sense where I stand
it’s to late to reap rewards
though I doubt if I could
back in the day, the past years
even then the beauty stirred
just as now, my present life
in the marsh beyond the course
destruction lures a mortal soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171015.

Success rang in with the dawn
another chance to make the art
reveal myself in quest for love
so I may feel the same within
my waking dream began with words
spun from thoughts I’d like to share
the good and bad, the in-between
the outcome spans my world.

From activism to joy's refrain
offered for the reader’s view
spun together in facsimile
of the success I'd like to see
the achievement would manifest
if a set of eyes considers there
the offerings from a soul desiring
connection beyond their mortal coil.

I spoke of love in the first refrain
to this subject I'll return again
through this art I catch a glimpse
the mirrors reflected in readers' gaze
at the alter of my poems
response will vary by reference there
still I'll take in the passion sent
back to the writer, scribe's accomplishment.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170509.

Beyond the bottom of the sky
where horizon meets the land
there I seek my future place
where I’ll stand by vision’s light
though the shadow may intrude
deepest hues in sable’s grasp
hiding what could be there
beyond my sight in mountain’s roots.

Imagination does not reveal
what may come in due time
when the dreams of the beyond
are dispersed by sorrow’s blight
fantasy may be my end
when reality is dismissed
thoughts stop before they start
illusion borne by raven’s wings.

Invention waits in the tools
hinting at their readiness
there left fallow by my hands
dust assumed on mantle’s breadth
treasure stacks upon self
taunting those who cannot reach
when the will is left to wane
wishes sunk in amber’s depths.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170817.

Survival's been put aside
no longer a pressing cause
still I carry forth
existing in this world

for some it’s a harsh lust
driving every thought
ranked above love itself
focus of the life embraced

instead distraction has it’s place
by dance or music’s charm
spinning a glamour’s space
dedicated to confusion’s game

as does duty’s grind
holding me to account
dominoes lined in rows
waiting to be tossed to earth

all are poor substitutes
absent of God’s pure grace
stability lost with rudder gone
drifting towards the rocky shoals

in the face of pleading love
life’s endurance becomes that
survival is the chore
the relic no longer grasped.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171010.

Why don’t we talk about the ills
that impact the despised group
not understood from the start
with struggles in the mire of life?
perhaps the blame would then turn
to the difference in the front
not the symptoms that spill forth
because of impact from the crowd.

Separation is the cause
damnation heaped on top of hate
intolerance is the result
no will to heal, inflicting wounds
in the shadows the impacted
attempt to fit when there’s no space
crowded out by prejudice
partiality lost to loathing’s gain.

Sickness spills from the fight
damning those in shadow’s taint
with the small anxiety
or a desire to finally leave
invisibility with assumption heaped
toxins kept in the dark
to say more would curse the one
when their state becomes the cause.

Back to ills that wrack the group
not inherent to the mark
of how they stand outside of main
not willing to state how they feel
minority label on the forehead
scarlet letter that does not prompt
the maladies that tumble forth
through mistreatment by the whole.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171005.

I imagined the perfect poem
rich with rhyming in the verse
stating contents of my heart
torn from flesh to paper’s face
the words would dance on the tongue
reciting wisdom of the muse
this fount I’ll not claim as my own
flowing freely from the pen

this is the dream I chase each day
seeking heights of excellence
with the tools from the bard
implemented with sad regard
practice makes for more good
tumbled right on top of self
witness how much I struggle
mambo dogface to the banana patch

words with meaning escape my grasp
as I quote the great Steve Martin
he was a god among the mortals
describing smoking of the ***
my poor attempts to pin words down
demand attempts to try once more
on each day the sun will rise
again I’ll scribble utterance

in this space I’ll express
the full spectrum of who I am
with no fear of who may see
the good or bad with ugliness
because a life has its quirks
waiting for the poetic twist
conjuration of highest order
a perfect poem found at last.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180408.

Ruin found in beauty's place
in the garden, the serpent's struck
the goddess brought down to earth
by the doubt welling in the mind

recrimination of the inner self
anxiety given word of truth
warping visions of the eyes
corrupting thoughts, the bitter lies

emotions turned on the self
creating caricatures of inner health
monsters not fit for the light
these run free to wound the heart

the past cuts have yet to heal
they still bleed with life’s duress
body-image comes in last
when testimony is ruins self

Venus tearing herself apart
as my tears drop to the ground
cursing serpents for their plan
the pain of beauty is too much.  

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170724.

The face of beauty is not denied
a vision present to my eyes
I stand the captive to the view
with scant promise lest I smile
the beating heart whispered there
knowing much while being mute
nodding to the furtive eyes
that skew away from lustful thoughts

perhaps the imps will forgive
what the angels would decry
knowing that I am laid low
to seek beyond is folly’s goal
in my sight they stand alone
creation’s height on pillar’s font
much like Venus from the sea
with a promise I’d like to keep

these oaths are made by other folks
pledged on lives not yet revoked
the balance shows on my account
not enough to claim a goal
I truly wish I could dance
in celebration of their lives
this I leave to other souls
to live the dreams beyond my hopes

what they miss is what I’ll grasp
learning more than common man
about the object that fascinates
the face of beauty to contemplate
forever distant while being close
by comely sights and nattered chat
they are a boon I’ll not deny
when the face imbues my life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190210.

I was not born this way
so say the judges who critique
the ways of right and wrong alike
not knowing why I am myself

perhaps they’re right in their speech
with all these masks I present
reckoning substance from intent
when shall I strive to show myself?

this path has timing I’ll present
to make straight the twisted ways
unwind the riddle that I present
by living here in your midst

far too early would be brash
not understand by the rest
when the paint is still fresh
comes the leader with none to follow

the muse asks the out reach
to be the moment it was meant
insight given to consider
mediating what must come

we were born to find our way
asked to drop the masks still worn
I’ll do my part with timing’s cure
evoking insight to those still lost.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170716.

The wall's tall enough to block my sight
ramparts of stone hiding past's domain
stretching for mile into the distance
that land I've left so far behind
with monuments of fates I'd forget
still awaits slumbering behind the wall

this barrier imagined boldly in my mind
no impediment to the rest of the shared world
stands solid against the therapy
with razor wire to stop temptation's curse
enticements offered by a nostalgic heart
I have no desire to reopen the ragged cuts

each spawns anxiety with harsh demands
I must end my life if the barricade fails
falling to earth as the bullet impacts flesh
so the barrier must be maintained
lest the monsters consume what I have left
each block held in place with fear of life

these phantoms mutter beyond the faint divide
spawned by a life that that never was
still I'll shudder in my huddled ball
this is the outcome mercy could grant
salving the wounds that still bleed
never to adventure but always safe.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180411.

The Architect speaks my life
with Neo as reason's voice
a dialogue that never ends
within the contours of my mind

I'd like to walk away
leave the world to my back
all the messy relationships
cruel constructs in my days

Neo said I won’t let it happen
if I wanted to survive
essential to prosperity
human beings are so linked

these words echoed in my mind
as the pain consumed my soul
frustration at the plan
'life's not fair' when I asked why

The Architect had it right
there are levels I'll accept
if survival is the end game
I would then disappear

yet from the jury I hear the cries
peers who care more than they should
asking for me to please see
there is love beyond the misery

The Architect has the final words
hope is a delusion of human kind
while it’s strength in the storm
it’s also misery when I am frail

the conflict wages on
a choice to make, to play or run
will Neo link me to the world
or will The Architect rule my life?

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170519.

If the mystery were removed
drapes pulled back to show the sun?
a revelation on the other side
of promise made by lust’s dreams

that hunger sourced from the hidden
imagination feeding vision veiled
behind protection of the sacred
it’s for the best if you consider

would attraction retain it’s pull
when the portend has been killed?
those gentle hints of what may be
cast aside by wantonness

with results the seen as before
revelation echoes a bitter laugh
in a hundred other vistas viewed
the breadth is seen once again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181213.

The price that’s paid has a due
survival is the golden rule
persisting here another day
the end of times then delayed

this seems simplistic at first glance
until the rules deny the chance
to determine the here and there
that society deems to declare

attractiveness damns everyone
but there are those that lies enclose
stating how they’re meant to live
by virtue of what they give

pretty is spun to be a rent
with existence as consequence
deny this price if the bill
is presented against your will.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200402.

Pardon me while I put down my pen
step away from the world I see
no longer wishing to participate
in this confusion beyond God's grace

with those so sure of themselves
I've lost my way to find myself
absent landlord with mad tenants
I’ll emulate departure’s grief

to the victor goes the spoils
granting rope that may be pulled
knot created to aid my quest
collar tied that’s cheered on

extremities in black and white
assurance spun in sharp contrast
in the middle I struggle now
asking why I joined the farce

the answer comes with clarity
now the veil invites me in
prompted by the left and right
no longer wishing for my kind

without a pen to state my case
I'll exit now to find my way
****** by life to disappoint
this *** to call the kettle black.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171031.

I’ll have to die before I live
plunge into darkness to find the light
if the fates would allow
perhaps thrive in aftermath

what lays beyond may resolve
questions raised across a life
so many years of wondering
answered as the curtain falls

all the comfort long assumed
once the best of cocoons
has birthed the monster many fear
even as the angels cheer

these avatars of what could be
manifesting human form
have walked the paths considered now
still they stand in the storm

to step away from the trap
would be a blessing in disguise
even as the world may fall
crumble downward in response

being normal kills my soul
perhaps I’ll live once I die
there is one way to confirm
moving forward into the void.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190105.

Don’t you hush when words are there
awaiting voice, a place to share
to like ones to be affirmed
by the wounds they will be known

discovery yields blessed insight
to life’s full scope under strife
by existence much like their own
the lowest strive to still survive

the blows of fate will soon come
when circumstance is unkind
the sun will shine, the rain will fall
commonality in public eye

the bruising egos and wounding flesh
distributed to mortal souls
are not the venue of one group
when the pen scratches page

these instructions denote the fall
brought out of shadows on poet’s thoughts
perhaps it’s best to concede
when on knees the lesson comes

escape is found in the phrase
a load distributed is less held
then considered to be normal
within the breadth of God’s domain

a choice made to take the plunge
comments penned are my own
escape is found in the phrase
release of poison or of praise

no longer festering in the dark
when light of phrase shows the way
do your part to stake your place
with a voice to share the words.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170924.

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.

The sacrifice must be made
the blood spilled to mark the day
lest the gods both good and bad
feel unwanted by mere man

deities remain steadfast
when attention turns to them
by the edge of cutting knife
or the coin from the purse

a gentle shower is not enough
be it crimson or made of gold
when attentions must surely flow
stating purpose from the soul

lives laid down in consequence
by believers or the lost
the latter being enemies
now made worthy in their ends

all this done in name of greed
for squalid treasures near at hand
enough to fill a million chests
these are the boon of all transgress

so ask for blessings both low and high
knowing gods have their price
the sacrifice made today
will coat the hands of deity.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190121.

The connection walks with the crowd
down the road of many miles
with the track winding back
and the future still showing lack

the casualties of the past
seem discounted in the now
never count these out of hand
foundation laid by consequence

tens to thousands stepping forth
these travelers more than kin
strangers standing outside of blood
while their own is put upon

the single digits evoked a flood
now the masses are the crush
connections walking to be heard
with outlanders of common cause.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191102.

I once viewed anger as a coin
the trespass I could spend
against a world that seared my soul
and in response to boundary's breach
I'd fling arrows with flaming ends
striking down my enemies

the world would burn in response
cinders laying hot on the ground
to the affronts hurled my way
I'd scorch the planet to the stone
take the innocent with the vile
in an effort to survive

the rage of God would not compare
that righteous hand exacting toil
on the sinners I've declared
they will suffer tens times more
then one hundred to soothe my rage
asking only that they may die

anger lives in my soul
a demigod born within
seeking ruin on all my foes
now the wastes are my abode
destruction granted by Satan's wish
granted then as anger's coin.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180501.

Visibility has its place
a time to share who we are
alignment along the middle way
away from ends of left and right
desire comes in many forms
there’s not one template to explain
or the two that some embrace
instead the spectrum is in play.

Myths are spun by outsiders
made from dogma held in books
without a face put to words
it’s too easy to **** strangers
for encounters singly had
with a stamp ascribed by chance
by human nature had by all
on a segment now despised.

Against the stones of ignorance
and the scorn of similars
coming out is a choice
by the brave who bare themselves
this vision asks for nothing less
than acceptance given by
those on ends of left and right
calm assent of who we are.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170923.

Sometimes I welcome her
the mistress to my forward face
only seeking for her time
beyond the grasp of masculine

that existence few suspected
even as the lady sought
to find a path to the light
drop the curtain to floor

behold the doxy of my heart
courtesan I’d like to share
if my clan could accept
what they believe is profane

the normative will have its say
exclaiming loudly in their dismay
denying unity in myself
when I dare equivalence

bless the souls who understand
forgive the woman at my side
all too real for many years
greatest secret hid from myself

totality is found mixed gender
sharing space in my cosmos
femininity found and then loved
stepping forward to welcome her.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180809.

If I close the doors during the storm
shutter the windows against the pour
provide no entrance save to myself
the sea would be to blame

two fathoms from taint of birth
chemistry wired in the wrong
from the elder falls the fruit
now waiting for the cancer

the basement will surely flood
the roof above will soon leak
is it no wonder why I exclude
visitors from the scene of the crime?

Four fathoms from the childhood
outsider voted the class clown
comments heard behind my back
so many whispers with no praise

don’t allow the blue to mislead your mind
the lack of clouds to say it’s alright
in my realm the hurricanes
blow day and night with no refrain

the last fathoms finally reached
neurotic says the diagnosis
no escape for you my son
this is forever until the end

I’ve heard the rest before you speak
umbrellas work for other men
they’re no help when my world
is six fathoms below the sea.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 2017031.

In waking life I have a dream
of three slugs put to skull
this is a fantasy I'll admit
because only one would do the trick

in my dreams I find escape
calm is found with visitors
transients blurred by shifting scenes
seeming normal in nightly realms

then I wake from torpid bliss
find myself within the chains
ternary dreads await the soul
that drifts among the lucky ones

the sleeping hours ignore this theme
the trilogies are heavenly
with no taint of deepest angst
asking balm by three times fired.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170731.

When the void lays beyond
down a path none may avoid
this one-way trek to the outside
rushes forward to meet all

around the curve of the path
the soul staggers to stand upright
chains imprison those who fly
flanked by walls none can climb

behind the door bound in iron
greatest barrier known to man
defying those who may explore
thick as smoke when we fall

the destination is far beyond
still too close in moment’s breath
by the grace some may persist
while others fall between the cracks

cloaked behind firm beliefs
that state unknowns none shall see
until they cross beyond our sight
without a voice to verify

some will stumble towards the edge
while others run the opposite
time will test the rebel hearts
dark reward is the escape.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180508.

I choose to escape with stroke of the pen
put emotions to page to make them flee
welcome respite in a moment’s breadth
boon of my daily pursuit of verse

writing brings out the strongly felt
extracting my soul for all to see
this is what I’d like to remit
asking the muse to heal the inside

extracting the ill along with the best
former is sought as a blessed goal
the latter a bonus for kind readers
who witness relief of my distress

you may ask what is the catch
with enough poems I should be well
or at least purged of angst felt in the gut
if only this were how it would be

I may cast my pain to the wind
taken aloft on gust of the breeze
yet the next day I’m drawn to the same
an act of attrition that seems to repeat

the strongest emotions are kept within
lessened in moments by power of words
slivers removed by knife of a quill
dipping each day to cut once again

escape is not possible by stroke of the pen
when core of the passion is never quenched
by slow release instead of a gush
dribbling emotions to mark the day.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171106.

Those that came before
shot by arrows and trapped by lures
forged the trails all now walk
without regard for the lost

walls made of glass ten feet thick
doors shaped with sharpened thorns
these avenues were their path
as egos pressed to hold them back

conservatives exclaimed strong ire
as the bodies fell by the side
intolerance had a long hand
exacting martyrs drenched in blood

the price was known in those years
and then forgotten with banners hung
in the halls where glee persists
while memories collect the dust.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190722.

Marrionettes come to the dance
pulled by strings high above
directing actions, fate foretold

pre-recorded, the music plays
always it will sound the same
tied to ******* instead of bliss

darkness hides those who tug
threads on hearts, cords to mind
while puppets jump far below

an illusion is set on stage
cast by lights that command
attention paid to masters’ call

still belief maintains a hope
surety as last resort
if only this were the truth

no longer are the dolls detached
from expectations separate
as independence cavorts in chains.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171126.

Tell the world I’ve put down my gun
retired to shadows away from charm
the limelight with due rewards
no longer calls to this fighter

I’m not seeking to make my mark
with prodigy to extend mankind
beyond generations yet to fade
but in their time all will expire

it’s not that bullets have run out
or that rust has seized the works
as the barrel is still strong
on the shelf these matter not

the powder’s state no longer counts
be it dry or gone to rot
when the pistol is set aside
to gather dust away from sight

no longer questing the fair coquettes
worthy foes to bring to bed
laying low with equal joy
companions sought for at least one time

now I leave to join the march
of past shooters without a cause
musketeers with only self
to pass the time without recourse.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170916.

I went to sleep, exhaustion child’s
the hot line jammed, no resort
the panic has run its course
at the start I still had hope.

Now a monster roams the world
success the measure, his driving aim
with masses lured by a frightened call
asking nothing, this they’ll have.

Against this backdrop our history called
when my friends turned to the dark
wanting security above all else
turned to fiends beyond the veil.

The decrees are the outcome
forced by a country wishing change
by the ambitious with dollar signs
carved in books, religion’s mark.

That past night they didn’t care
who had won, which one departed
this was the thought by the dismayed
now I sleep, wishing the same.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170505.

When I compare myself to you
my self-esteem sets to scream
cataloging what you can do
against the skill set of this one
in the past we knew the same
roughly equal in art expressed
in that moment we were matched
yet still you shot for greater things.

A wide world called you out
offering riches you could learn
by the teachers who saw your worth
bending knee to bring you up
to your credit you’ve worked hard
striving daily to improve your craft
with a focus that’s future bent
while my focus has been elsewhere.

Recognition has come at last
for you my friend, not for me
while I stand to mark the past
the future is now yours to grab
now your partners are the best
with every move at world class
a simplest flourish is proof of God
perfection granted to human kind.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170529.

Madness absent presents a void
where only tiredness may prevail
along with ghosts that circumscribe
the issues that still haunt my life

the ideation is put aside
no longer present at all times
a long reprieve from the call
from the darkness of the void

when sanity was found at last
from a source that I’d not expect
the fog of doom is finally pierced
to reveal normality

the journey becomes one of days
small diversions hand-in-hand
with the grind I now embrace
less excitement of death’s hint

now the years stretch ahead
demanding more than past lack
it’s enough to turn back
find a way to mania

here's the joke before you go
if ideation is all one knows
spice provided is then missed
neurosis gone is for the best.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181120.

My companion is now a box
a cast of thousand I adore
sight and sound found within
meaning more than meeting live

by the virtue of the internet
the connection will never cease
even when I’m all solitary
rarely seeing another being

except by pixels on the screen
arranged in joy or sorrow’s bent
pretending to emulate
the genuine of face to face

this companion I’ll never leave
unless the signal no longer flows
flashing light on the box
then I’ll cry in loneliness.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181209.

Kiss the women, love them dear
caress the men, hold them close
to each there own in love’s enchant
connection is the sole account

charisma comes in many forms
it’s not in boxes with tall walls
gender seen is not the grade
nor expression is the gauge

biology is the base of life
not a barrier to stop a love
the x with same and also y
touching either can be blessed

identity may have its say
the plumbing separate from the mind
with the outcome made as beautiful
with integrity just like the cis

expression has its own world
fluid between the then and now
the best of all may fold the frame
of a person declaring grace

the soul at play is the divine’s gift
spectrum’s allure is my draw
to kiss the women, caress the men
and all so many in-betweens.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170506.

The exchange is condemned
flesh for payment in the hand
while the world ignores the same
as equal swaps have no blame

those servitudes by married states
proceeded by the dating game
ask that skin be exposed
prior to forms of *******

while the outcome is alike
imaginations seek to decry
those outside the prescriptive ways
when doubles standards are in play

purity separate from the price
what’s made right in a thought
curse the ones who provide
just the same in God’s knowing eyes.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191020.

What's been lost cannot be found
though it may lurk in plain sight
when the tumble down the hill
results in grace torn to shreds
we're all human in the end
these digressions are the norm
seeking wounds will only end
with a fall to deepest pits

it's the freak that stands above
without the skeletons duly hid
those slips of will in anger's course
or lust embraced instead of trust
pity their soul until the time
their turn is taken to devolve
because the low road calls to all
the quick drop from Heaven's peak

it's all fair in love and war
we tell ourselves as bullets fly
indiscretion met with same
indignation through carnal strife
mix the two with sure knowledge
there are no saints in the end
only wounded of pained degrees
seeking payback none shall have

sympathy will cut both ways
when the mud covers all
there are no winners in the end
even the Devil pities men
it's no wonder there are few
with white wings of angel kin
standing on hills above the rest
the high ground few will retain.

Moving pics on amber walls
projected others against my life
seeing new upon the old
wondering how the two enfold

resin has the past enclosed
shelves with items, closets stuffed
trinkets yellowed in gold
always there, yet separate

present asked to share its space
with the ghosts always there
there stand the silhouettes of loved ones
stamped in hazel’s surrounding grasp

history’s stamp is still there
a tranquil prison out of touch
this is said as a prayer
I’m still here in its wake

masking cause, blurring lore
reactions made are not my own
against the amber I exist
extension of what came before.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170604.

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.

They walked a path alone
resembling the norm by only half
with the society as a single part
the remainder was their own

reality twisted to match their whims
the ether bent by force of will
turned to match the innerscape
of a soul that wished to fly

convention was coincidence
on the journey above the rest
embraced if only to assure
life and liberty continued on

to merely thrive was not enough
when the trickster conjoined the fox
each contributing to rebellion's game
moving beyond the nine to five

religion became the trinket held
as the faith of other folk
imbued with magic still not felt
by the one that defined themselves

identity moved to the spread
a spectrum between two points
the poles rejected as the place
the hat was hung for attraction's gaze

what they liked and how they stood
identity of who they were
came on terms self-defined
with the acronym begun with L

this rebellion came at a cost
supporting structures were recast
to the family beyond mere blood
embraced many to support the one

now I follow with rapt intent
observing what I may glimpse
of the soul that walked alone
bending life to match their heart.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180521.

While there words I’ve yet to use
there are fewer across the years
by writing poems once a day
dribbling out upon my pen
looking forward to much more
in this effort I must find
inspiration to march on
ascribing odes to God’s ears

I find aid in all things
the grains of sands near at hand
dribble through evermore
plumbing depths of my soul
prompts delivered by a world
the good and evil both compete
asking for an equal voice
through fair coverage in my verse

finding faults in dogma’s reign
exclamations made from high
brought to earth on the page
spoke with voice as truth exclaimed
words are feathers on the scale
between the right and the wrong
one seems the other when balanced
in the shadow of rhyme’s turn

humanity struggles on
I’m included in this domain
seeking portents that inform
why I fail and why I fly
still continuing to exist
another poem has been writ
stating less than you’d expect
ascribing odes to God’s ears.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170818.

At the end I see it all
and take pen to paper to clarify
what God's revealed to my eyes
perhaps this should not be
the muse evoking blasphemy
though closings bring such memories

a final push of energy
gifting me to share the word
has occurred as midnight's stroke
the tunnel's light must now wait
delay an exit to better realms
while last strength fills my limbs

clarity is the benefit
presenting views most conceal
when honor meets embarrassment
past is brought to present time
social constructs most dismay
are made plain on this day

I'll use the last of my will
before a rattle fills my throat
and the words are ended here
wishing that the season stretched
beyond the terminal now embraced
allowing for ending's gain.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170712.

I once walked upon the ice
seeking spice for my life
there I found so much more
forever exiled to beyond
the cravings lured me from the edge
of firm ground where I once lived
once enough to satisfy
I wanted more than I had.

At first the cracks were quite small
in response to each foot fall
with a creak that shadowed steps
I wandered further towards my lust
seeing was enough to prompt
inclination to have more
while surface shifted shape
demonstrating danger’s trace.

There was trembling beneath my feet
with constant threat of cleaving base
I made the choice to dance about
between the cracks destroying truth
what once I knew was not enough
risking all to sample treats
predilections satisfied
by the forbidden found at last.

The plunge beneath stole my breath
no turning back to walk above
as I perished to the past
six feet down and falling fast
now escape eludes my thoughts
cravings turned inside out
wishing land could be found
away from cravings that brought me low.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180505.