Feb. 11th, 2017

kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“My Cold Dead Heart” was written for a poetry competition that asked for the poem’s title to be included as the title, beginning, or ending of a poem.


My Cold Dead Heart

Your eyes hinted
with the world
nothing offered
in full promise
unblinking orbs
full of hunger
look into the soul
absorbing it all

I see clarity
purpose unknown
I see vitality
source deep within
life resides here
welcoming me
inviting departure
if I fall inside

kindness is envisioned
returned now in kind
then I find the tip
dagger unsheathed
pools of emotion
shadows at play
I’ll swim the deep
depths where promises die
look into the eyes
beauty thy name
entrancing the mind
killing my heart.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170211.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“The Naked Self” begun as a poem for the challenge “write of stripping sensually for the sole purpose of enticing a partner. No actual sex, just the disrobing”. I never did enter that competition. Instead I waited and then wrote a poem about the truest act of disrobing, the revelation of the inner self. I catch glimpses of people at this level, and I hope that I am brave enough from time to time to go there, but I think I’ve never yet fully revealed the naked self.


The Naked Self

You tell me I wear too much
mantles laid on the naked self
around the person you’d like to see
hiding goodies underneath
revelation has its reward
exterior stripped and put aside
the seeing of what’s been hid
revelation of the inner self

intellect is plain enough
the brain put forward as a sham
because this is a three cup game
a scam to safely shroud my pain
inside I am emotion’s bitch
desires and fears well embraced
buried deep in sepulcher
beneath distraction of the mind

humor is its own reward
unless I use it to disguise
the unvarnished bliss my core
behind the laughs I bring to hand
yucks to cackle, guffaws to giggle
this smile is the mask I choose to wear
when the grin does not extend
from my face to my soul

lastly drama takes the stage
tossing balls high into the air
hand to hand, up and down
movements meant to distract
when the act conveys false tears
or shows the pain meant to tease
the truest show is hid inside
those quiet screams that never stop

what do I cover that you seek
the naked self you’d like to meet?
I would tell you if I knew
if I could find the pluck to disrobe
perhaps one day I’ll undress
take down the veils that distract
though I think it will take two of us
each with the will to do the same.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170211.

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