kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
The other day I spoke to a friend about people seeing past the words of my poems, down into the heart of what I'm saying versus what is being said. “Some to See” is about this phenomenon.


Some to See

Could I be defined by words
utterance put upon the page
with the inner truth much more deep
than the surface I've conveyed?

camouflaged by waving hands
misdirection of intent
while I wink to those who see
the rawness laying underneath

wounded flesh, gaping cuts
ribald taunts, erotic thrusts
these are hidden from the rubes
lacking skill to see my ruse

though this is incorrect
instead a reference is required
a frame upon which to place
equal knowledge of what's been said

here my words wear two masks
the one you see, the one submerged
begging if there is much more
the subconscious of the muse

with poet counted as the tricked
revealing more than what I meant
defining the fallen reprobate
splayed wide for some to see.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170830.
kokopelle: (ATHF - Moonnites Rule)
“Escape” was written about the quote: "People become radicalized, or extremist, because they're searching for three very fundamental human needs: identity, community and a sense of purpose”.


Escape

Escape is found by relevance
imbued by life's consequence
a search for more than less
beyond the lone human shell
building character is the goal
personality more than a ghost
self made solid by building blocks
dogma filling in the chinks.

A cast of thousands or much less
it matters not when they meet
brotherhood of that welcomes all
the easy net to catch a soul
this village of the bless and damned
some have sanction to express
the greatest goals of life’s progress
while others are held in chains.

Experience seeks like travelers
to walk against the enemies
much more fearsome in a crowd
only one becomes much more
terror struck by the mob’s bent
power gained when it was lost
striking down the lesser man
to rise above sad origins.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170829.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
“Psychology question. Why is it that the mysterious is so fascinating? Just as an abstract concept. Humans wanting to explore new places and new things. Curiosity, mystery…why?”

The terrible secret is that the mysterious is not fascinating to most people. It is an abstract concept, the frightening plunge outside their lair. These secrets terrify them, pushing them back into pockets of comfortable familiarity. The exceptional humans are the ones that explore new places and new things. The actual mystery is that we’ve stepped outside the cave at all.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“Arrows Taken” is about the pursuit of justice for others. General themes of such warriors are promoting an agenda, tearing down dissension, and removing barriers. What separates myself from the denizens of the alt-right? Very little it would seem.


Arrows Taken

Arrows taken for the ones
kept safe behind the walls
wounds accepted for other men
sacrifice for a higher goal

they're not yet ready to be exposed
to unkind eyes with malice borne
ill intent and hateful hearts
this is how they will relate

I seem to have less to loose
this is untrue in my life
as consequence could destroy
fragile structures I hold dear

still I walk in the public sight
an example for all to see
the measure of my fervent cause
or a question of my sanity

the cause pulls on my soul
a minority against the whole
demanding equality
respect from authority

the arrows may fall to earth
humanity in all its flaws
still there is hope for them
to come out from the walls.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170828.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“Tarnished Soul” is about one of the seven deadly sins.


Tarnished Soul

The holy counted seven
explaining man’s downfall
stacked as wood on the fire
that none dare to disclose
sly source of the vices
the hydra branching out
a monster all embrace
though one head may be king.

Passions are the tendrils
one found fertile ground
an inclination to evil
so say the sacred books
opposite of the virtue
contentment is its name
love invoked by purity
absent in my case.

Dare I share my shadow’s breadth
have you guessed it yet?
the heart that seeks wicked acts
if only in my mind
with fornication as a goal
intercourse outside of bonds
a harsh name for natural acts
body’s quest to find another one.

The other sins are not absent
we’re only human as molded earth
tainted mortals one and all
each with their own fallen goal
many books may be written
sordid tales upon all men
I’ll add mine to the mix
poetry of the tarnished soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170827.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
At some point I’ll share the story of how I came to write poetry, and through it, find a measure of sanity. “Write in Time” is a glimpse of the tale.


Write In Time

Anticipation of the words
sprung from pen to fill a page
speaking only to the mind
lest the world know of my kind
it’s not always been this way
poetry seen as a path
to explore the inner realms
turn them over while visible.

I’ve lived in silence while I bled
the tragedies filled my head
forcing me to the ground
even though I seem to stand
I was mute with tears withheld
turning inward while I smiled
wondering if I should persist
as shadows fought to be heard.

“You’ll write in time” said the muse
this seemed insane I’ll have you know
with only madness to convey
I turned away from honesty
still the scribblings were put forth
maintaining contact outside myself
as the topics dribbled out
surface knowledge softly spoke.

Then the day arrived at last
no longer did I hide from sight
poems arrived to fill the void
a method found to spill my guts
the words have flowed every day
so many topics, each a gift
put to page as seasons turn
exploring pain to heal the mind.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170826.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
"Seeking Peace" is about the place of music in my life. There are avenues that I can use to escape for a time, but they are both temporary and infrequent. The tool I keep near at hand, with results assured by experience, is the calming / exciting balm of music.


Seeking Peace

The sex was not enough
the guilt surpassed pleasure's tasks
how could it last when the result
is a death that may bring life?

food filled my questing gullet
seeking peace at morsel's edge
pleasure sought in appetite
in the end I felt only full

misery became my company
once the clothes were retrieved
and the dishes put aside
an emptiness arrived again

I found myself longing for
another way to stir the heart
lift my soul above the grind
assuring calm in life's storm

into this space the music came
on the air with no strings
prompting me to step away
from the burdens I did not want

transcendence would be the word
though this falls short to describe
the magic brought into my life
by the tunes' resonance

I struggle to pay homage
show the praise that I feel
inadequate to the task
as a human coil, so much less

everlasting and always fresh
on the shoulders of mortal men
the muse of God has finally found
his creation seeking peace.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170825.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“To Roam Again” began with the first two lines imagined in the early morning.


To Roam Again

When the fun has run its course
I’ve plumbed the depths, come up short
seeking more than I should have
in the realms where I’ve played

appetite was front and center
once appeased, but no longer
craving lust more than reason
hunger as its own reward

autopilot for the sinner
helmsman of the darkness realms
pointing to the paths unwinding
beyond the realm of angels’ sight

promising all and nothing more
the cup is hidden from the drinker
was it empty before I sipped
or did I drain the decadence?

the passenger sits in the back
they are me with inclination
to explore where passion ends
the greatest trap of the seeker

now I’ve returned to the start
more desirous than before
taken there with no regrets
except to depart, to roam again.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170824.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“As If Asleep” is about how I experience the world of dreaming.


As If Asleep

I dream in bright technicolor
more shades than life contains
forgetting this span of hues
when I rise with morning dew

the details stream in unending flux
shifting between here and there
when that space twists around
alien to the waking world

a cast of strangers is company
without concern of who I am
acceptance found by colleagues
existing only behind the veil

all the while there is creation
songs and sights, music’s throat
echoing from the only source
the muse inside my resting mind

do not tell me what cannot be
that was there, believe me
restrictions are thrust aside
within the realm behind my eyes

no pain is there in that beyond
the ache that meets me when I wake
I am fully blessed to feel again
the balm of youth in hurt’s relief

if only the waking could be the same
as dreams presented when I recline
perhaps it could if I strive
to live my life as if asleep.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170823.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
“I’ll Whisper” is about waking up and looking forward to sleeping again.


I’ll Whisper

I'll whisper your beauty to the gods
have them listen at morning's dawn
perhaps they'd accept my offering
hear my awe because I’m blessed

when night's curtain is withdrawn
to show the paramour in my bed
I wonder how this came to be
that darkness concealed one so bright

my speech returns at long last
as the sun begins to rise
chasing blackness from the room
revealing all that I enjoyed

the soft and hard, all the curves
the long lines that I explored
valleys plumbed in my quest
finding pleasure with the heights

the shadow departs as I speak
witness leaving before they're caught
called to answer for our acts
when they are innocent and we are not

it matters not because it's done
the gods have witnessed far too much
I pray they'll respond to my words
allow another night to turn to dawn.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170822.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
I was considering assuming the mantle of normality. This is all the rage, with institutional racism, conservative religion, and the patriarchy as the guideposts for the people of my age. Should I submit? The result of my ponderings is the poem “Walk As An Aberrant”.


Walk As An Aberrant

Normality is the golden grail
promise of a thousand smiles
if I stoop beneath the bar
bend to fit within their mold
they only ask me to embrace
dogma dipped in history
rooted to the cold bedrock
beneath of the warmth of decency.

What's come before is all there is
sanity within their jail
this is the promise made to all
(those outside need not apply)
stick with the like no matter what
purity is the highest goal
with skin color as the test
of whether worth will be beget.

Punch the clock every day
hold down a job to make my way
all that don't are only dregs
living off the common man
holding on to holy dollar
what’s been made is only ours
don’t give it out to others
this is the measure of virtue’s end.

Sing the hymns in unison
lit by windows with color's hues
one true faith all must adore
else be a heathen outside the lord
love only those that do conform
with opposites defining love
the same is seen as greatest sin
abomination that all condemn.

Act your age, your decade's stamp
putting down youth's play toys
to find the somber in all things
content to die before your death
you may ask how this is known
that these are norms they promote
the answer seems to be too sad
the loudest voices are most correct.

Now I know how I should live
though self-hate would be the theme
cloaked in the veil of being one
with a world as the hostile place
considering how they see
the breadth of what could be
I’ll pass on that normal stint
instead walk as an aberrant.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170821.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“No Escape” is about accepting the limitations of life, be they by circumstance or by choice.


No Escape

I die inside before the whole
a gift of numbness does portend
finding peace within the void
hollow shell is left to spoil
calmness hides the inner screams
looking round at where I live
knowing there is so much more
than what I hold to my heart.

I’ll put aside the fleeting dreams
shining stars not meant to be
by the virtue of circumstance
or my lack to reach beyond
both will leave me in this room
with one as nature’s turning wheel
the other fully on my head
together shunting prospect’s bless.

Reality asks for its due
bankrupting dreams with a check
dollar signs same as hope
the wallet emptied at its request
there’s nothing left to spend
my value reduced to only dust
swirling through darkened halls
enclosed within this living tomb.

Dispassioned deadness is my home
residence feeling like a jail
watching time slip away
wondering why I’m not dismayed
when there’s a roof above my head
shelter taken in cold stillness
bars arrayed on window sills
here I’ll stay with no escape.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170820.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
“Those Who Struggle” is about the transsexual experience. Gender identity, separate from sexual preference or romantic preference, is pursed for the integrity of an individual. The struggle is real, often invisible, and very urgent for wholeness attained.


Those Who Struggle

Many live in their own way
mocking those who cannot
assume a mantle most embrace
this is my struggle everyday
feeling normal in my skin
waking at the sunrise time
without putting on masks
chosen from the wall with care

play pretend like a child
with the stakes all too high
when the others could find out
they would then end my life
the garments I’d like to wear
draw the looks of despair
judgment cast upon the one
with desire to fully live

tuck or bind is requisite
to match the image in my head
asking for the extra measure
other folks take for granted
health is pushed to compensate
for the measures I must take
holding in what others don’t
because there’s no room I can go

remedies for the castaway
without tribe that understands
island seeking identity
another child of God’s pure light
these are my cross I must bear
on my body, not on the wall
this is the difference between two groups
those who struggle and those who curse.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170819.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
Later September, 2017, will mark three years of writing a poem a day. “Odes to God’s Ears” is about this adventure.


Odes to God’s Ears

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.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
“Amber’s Depths” is about about voluntarily not embracing the future. The present and near future is the breadth of experience. Beyond that, who knows?


Amber’s Depths

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.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
I appreciate a measure of solitude as an extroverted introvert. I also acknowledge that too much solitude can be harmful to the impacted individual. The introvert, and voices of negative self-worth, resist the social interactions that I really must embrace. The poem “Solitude Takes” is about the nature toxic solitude and how it could be addressed.


Solitude Takes

Solitude takes only one
it's enough for a life
that's the voice that does me harm
whispering lies of loneliness
stating words I only hear
asking calm to numb my pain
antidote to life's hard knocks
a cure for affliction's curse.

No walls may be seen
because there is a gulf
on which nothing may stand
a void for the solitary
the silence is all I need
false narrative of misery
encamped in privacy
retreat from the gathering.

An alternative must be found
in travelers of same paths
to occupy empty holes
in order to save a soul
from worst of destruction's taint
corruption self-invoked
looking to the outside
to find much more than one.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170816.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“Coaxing Dark” is the result of wanting to write a poem that is simultaneously cheerful and melancholy. I think I’ve succeeded.


Coaxing Dark

when one is found to be in lack
insufficient to life's tasks
skin's starvation all too keen

asking me to lay down my life
forever rest in sad despair
far away from partner’s balm

when was the last time I felt alive?
it was in dance through music's charm
when the muse entranced my heart

in my consort’s arms I was found
set adrift in realm of touch
never wishing to come back

I'd forgotten this place of bliss
when stumbling though life's veil
all consumed by drudgery

the realm of two seems enough
perhaps enough to forestall the end
to dissuade the coaxing dark

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170815.
kokopelle: (cat - raptor)
A friend quoted "Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself." by George Bernard Shaw. This led me to write the poem “Where I Looked”.


Where I Looked

I wandered far to find myself
exercised my questing self
seeking what I did not have
in far fields on journey’s path

the seas were wet as well as deep
waves both valleys and mountain peaks
across these roads my boat did flow
the passing depths not journey’s end

deserts stretched too far to see
hot to cold as sun revolved
above to sky and then to earth
yet there I did not find the goal

the forests held more than trees
animals stalked my careful steps
eyes shone back by campfire’s light
silent witness to secrets kept

man’s fair cities rose to the sky
while sinking far under earth
knowledge held by my cohorts
where found hollow in false light

a lifetime spent questioning
what I was as I searched
the miles as witness to the hunt
across the lands my feet quested

in the end I finally found
the elusive spark contained
I was a product of the journey
life was about where I looked.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170814.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
“Phobia as a Fault” speaks directly to a discussion storm I’m aware of on social media, but I’ll stick with the broad outlines of a painful situation. The poem is about the phobic thoughts inherited from the “hive mind”. A phobic thought is one that is framed with “I’d never do X with Y” or “X is bad because they always do Y”. Rejection is predeclared because of another person’s perceived state. Any size group can promote phobic thoughts. Groups at the receiving end of phobic thoughts can generate their own phobic thoughts. Sadly, at their heart, the phobic directions may mean well with an intention of ‘protecting’ a group. In practice they feed and imbue hurts that are beyond evil.


Phobia as a Fault

Consider phobia as a fault
a statement put out as “I’d never”
by the ones who turns their heads
with blanket statements uttered forth
putting judgment on those who fail
to be in tidy boxes built by life
whether speakers are the majority
or in the minority on life’s fringe.

A natural order is assumed
based on a bubble’s small contents
floating in the larger world
binding those found within
the swaying group may be small
or large enough to swamp the rest
it matters not when hate is found
at end of thoughts that classify.

The vagueness is disconcerting
a step away from normals felt
be they on one end or the other
of the ranged Kinsey scale
bias breeds from experience
society stamping upon the mind
asking thoughts to intersect
with hive mind of company.

The “I’d never” statements cut too deep
harm the target of phobic ends
with a net that’s spread to wide
pointed weapons press outward
with dispassion that violates
the golden rule most embraced
protective thoughts of the group
drive the phobia as a fault.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170813.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
‘Gender’s Span’ is dedicated to those people who orient towards pansexuality.


Gender’s Span

If I could kiss him on the lips
taste the lust that fills my heart
or much lower, that is true
evoked by forces asking more
this first step invites more
caressing cheek while I adore
the masculine in all its prime
smooching hard before embrace.

If I could pull her in to feel the heat
tucked in close, flesh to flesh
swapping feels under clothes
finding both the hard and soft
indulgence taken as two are one
heaven found at hell’s doorstep
standing up is pleasure’s stance
desiring more beyond the touch.

If I could take them to my bed
gender put up on the shelf
to find instead what’s near at hand
taking all to realm of bliss
parts are parts, we all have them
combining in so many ways
release is raced towards the goals
finding all that’s underneath.

All these ‘ifs’ are my fare
acknowledgment of carnal breadth
not meant to poke the eye of God
instead I bend to whom I am
diversity is my way
the door opened to all kinds
with discretion still in play
finding partners in gender’s span.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170812.

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