Apr. 16th, 2017

kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“Scissor’s Teeth” was written for a contest prompted off of a quote by Gabriel García Márquez. The quote spoke to the moment being the “last time” for all the actions desired with another. I decided to explore this topic through the three Moirai, also known as the Fates.


Scissor’s Teeth

This was the last time
on this side of the veil
wove by Cotho’s hand
our threads will be undone

together was the gift of time
measured by eternal rod
Lachesis has her say
to what’s allotted before the end

we knew that Moirai as her due
and hoped she would turn aside
two threads that wrapped as one
now undone in the slayer’s shade

the last Fate has cleaved a string
one or both, it matters not
what Atropos says is the end
at the tips of scissor’s teeth.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170416.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
I have a dance friend who I really admire for their expression unto the world. The sum result is outwardly androgynous, especially when reference to their preferred companions. The poem “Living True” is about a witnessed encounter between my friend and a young boy. My heart went out to my friend, and I do truly hope that the young one learned something from the event.


Living True

I saw a time of friend’s unease
when living true was put to test
revelation asked brought a blush
as lovely life defied the norm.

“Are you a girl or are you a boy?”
from the mouth of babes this issued forth
follow-up was as pure
“I’ve not met you before.”

Hetronormative is this youth’s curse
the crux of boxes into which
body’s expression may be fit
or identification of preferences.

At least they asked with innocence
the same question from adult’s mouth
would heap derision upon their mark
stating known with scorn’s intent.

Yet still I felt for my friend
they are much braver than I could be
with the outside as the proof
of the sterling felt within.

I hope the children will embrace
the differences seen by their eyes
I pray my friend will never stop
being honest within their skin.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170416.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
A contest asked for poems about the color red. The resulting poem, “Red Consort”, has a Gothic feel, equating crimson with the passed love.


Red Consort

I dream in color, I dream in red
with shades of gray, black and white
red and grays, this is my view
rainbow’s spread departs my world.

My shirts are white, my suits are black
my world is gray, and you were red
you were life, spilled across the floor
so much color, the one I adored.

Rose so red, dress so crimson
hair so scarlet, blood so thick
Please do not fade, do not vanish
remain my color, in my bipolar.

I dreamt of you, my red consort
my trance of color, darkness embraced
red rose remaining, against coffin pillow
soon this will wilt, with dreams remaining.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170416.

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