Poem - Is the Ocean

The poem “Is the Ocean” was prompted by a poem title “The Girls Who is the Ocean”. I opened up the gender and then explored the tug between possibilities and unrequitedness.


Is the Ocean

The one who is the ocean
or was by my memories
the breadth I loved to walk aside
or drown in sum ecstasy

the former I lived by the day
proximity to the surf’s invite
fury in the rush to the shore
submission in foam’s withdrawal

the latter was only in my dreams
submersion leading to bliss
the gateway was sleep’s restraint
with shadows as residents

there everything is a shade
be the dream in moon or sun
the shine of sun does not aid
when outcomes are the same

I awake from the visions
as the waves touch my feet
horizon calls, sand to ground
part of my life, then and now.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170422.

Poem - Please Hate Me

I’m feeling better, and want to share this insight when the referenced emotions are not being felt. I had a tremendously difficult week. Spirits were rock bottom, to the point that I went to a dance and did not dance at all (except with that one person who really insisted… thank you Taylor, you’re the best!!!). I was ready “to go”. The bit I want to share is that depression can really really want to be alone, and for some terribly bad reasons. It can go to great lengths to ensure this, transcending to depths that most people could not understand. The poem “Please Hate Me” was written during a time when depression was there.


Please Hate Me

If you hate me than I can pass
remove myself from this world
step away from this trail
to find peace in your bitterness

you'd ask why this is my wish
seeking what most men avoid
I'd say that shame will cover me
it's best for all to look away

disappointment would my friend
the companion to betrayals felt
good riddance to the bad they'll say
no more is needed when low is pegged

so please despise this crippled soul
no longer part of your vibrant realm
now with those of fallen brand
better gone than breathing air

the monster vanquished would be the cheer
to a quiet place I could then retire
what little energy the living gave
would be to spit before they left

around the pit none shall stand
reviled, forgotten, cast outside
an occupant wishing none
of the pity or of the love

this last stanza will explain
about the hatred felt within
for the self better expunged
gone at least, goodbye all.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170422.