Journey to Ixtlan

The poem “Forests Stretch” was inspired by the quote, “We all have forests on our minds.  Forests unexplored, unending.  Each of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone."


Forests Stretch

The forests stretch in reverie
the breadth misplaced in scenery
while the trunks impede a view
of infinity inspired by the muse

supplying secrets in honesty
treasures piled for one to see
while a plot is always birthed
to disregard what's been learned

there is no witness except the self
wandering on the winding trails
never ending except when rest
is disturbed by wakefulness

arbors lost to memory
when consciousness lifts from sleep
paths found are put aside
when the green blinds the mind.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200122.

The poem “Sad Discharge” is the result of considering how worlds of dreams are manifested, and the inevitable outcome.


Sad Discharge

When a world dreams the next
three small wishes become one
each with the knowledge of the last
until the natal is surpassed

a first asks for a new day
demands existence to coalesce
against the tides of ignorance
combined with fears few admit

the second grasps rainbow tears
puts to sleep the tendencies
to look behind when progress asks
forward movement at long last

a final third belies the rest
for the progress thus attained
when the curtain falls to ground
the new is old in sad discharge.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190811.

The poem “Promise Made” is about the scenes experienced in sleep, those experiences that will never repeat in waking life.


Promise Made

A promise made on fantasy
behind the heavy veil of sleep
all too real in that space
before I must again wake

this dream I’ll still embrace
knowing that a lie is at its heart
not one of sourced by cold malice
instead longing dwells within

in the earliest of dawns
or the depth of darkness night
the same drumbeat echoes forth
from the halls I walk alone

passages shared by replicates
facsimiles that share aspects
even thought the truth is bent
torn in half at the extreme

still I’ll wait until again
the landscape shifts within
making contracts that fall short
while they please the sleeping soul.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181223.

The poem “Into The Dream” is about the tortured considerations in the dream world.


Into The Dream

I escaped into the dream
where waking pain could be fled
there the ache found new soil
to bloom unasked behind my eyes
a cast of thousands with recourse
bent to ask the hard questions
about the truths I thought secret
a curse I long to take once more.

The deceased found new life
I’m called out to resolve
with my accepting of that farce
asking why I chose the paths
they alone saw my bent heart
this is the story in nightmare’s grasp
demanding flesh for the scourge
in repetition as nights progress.

Disreality became a word
bending shape ponder why
then turning toward the trivial
as if the answers were to be feared
this jailed freedom born of desire
behind the walls topped by clouds
where lies are relished far too much
verity moves from high above.

Conviction written with a pen
tortured scripts by my hand
with the blocking that transcends
avoidance found and then abused
there I find I can escape
from the pain with just a thought
wake to a world that I detest
perhaps I’ll sleep to dream again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180421.

“Dreamer of the Void” was inspired by a meme that exclaimed “You need to believe in things that aren’t true. How else can they become?”.


Dreamer of the Void

Call me a dreamer of the void
desiring what’s not yet found
it’s not a lust as most know
feeling the firmness in my mind
phantasm beyond the veil
before the presence is at hand

assurance springs from reverie
manifesting a universe
belief relying on what could be
how else could this all become?
now that the past has deceased
a path removed that none may walk

they’ll think I lie with certitude
veracity borne of mystery
far to sure to know the truth
I seem to have a prophecy
mirage a bubble to the left
soon they’ll know I’m serious

an architect with shadow’s tools
this fantasy revealed in verse
starting point of future’s spoils
the course is found in fiction’s lap
hope I’ll share as an ideal
no longer figment as time unfolds.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171219.

“Sheltered Gaps” is about the balm of sleep and other things.


Sheltered Gaps

Relief is marked in sheltered gaps
visits on the other side
from the nightmares ever present
awaiting in the other hours
I walk to realms of tempered gloom
though the sun may shine above
here my dreams are the escape
from the presence of dismay.

Damn this path that stretches on
gibbering shadows push on every side
I'll take illusion in madness’ stead
if reclining is a choice
substance craves due consequence
I'd supply this with all haste
if my hand were allowed
to have free reign to ease the pain.

Then the voice of sanity
companion to a wider world
begs for same as the day before
one with continuance as reward
escape must come if I'm to last
I wish this were a fairy tale
so I'll struggle until I rest
to find my shelter in the gaps.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170926.

“Stuff of Dreams” is about a person who awakes from dreams to a world consumed by the chase of the impossible. Sleep is desired again, if only to dispel the pursued shadows of the waking realm.


Stuff of Dreams

Shadows where none should be
glimpse of shades when I wake
outlier of my dreams
beg for the attention shown
unlikely refugee
from the dawn of where I began
disturb the rest that was my peace
now in the dusk of life’s twilight
cast by lights only I can see
if only I had lived those years
from a distance too far to breach
echoes of a life that passed me by
in this place I could not conceive
beauty glimpsed that stops my breath
filled with cravings I cannot please
from the depths of ancient hunger
if only I did not travel so deep
longing for the way to catch
plunged ahead to find what I seek
never finding the golden prize
surrounded by a forest of trees
on the pedestal in far glade
paths that lure away from safety
across the void of doom’s presence
this traveler will soon perceive
the futility of the attempt
longing for the calm of far valleys
where the shadows are no more
to find again the stuff of dreams

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170102.

The poem "Twilight Partner" is about a particular kind of dream.


Twilight Partner

Visitor in the veil
appearing in pleasure
vanished at daybreak.

Unplanned encounter
unable to coerce
yet here we are again.

Perhaps a stranger I see
it matters little to me
given the attention received.

The focus is contact
varied in nature
desired in the whole.

Twilight partner
until the phantoms leave
dance again with me.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160420.

One night I dreamed about demonic visitors. Two nights later I dreamt I met a righteous farming family. The poem “Dream Messengers” is about this duality.


Dream Messengers

Dreamscapes are revelations
outside my waking mind.
The rules do not apply
when doors are opened wide.
The outcomes defy logic
when REM is the motion.
The scenes are divergent
in the halls of sleep.

There is no lexicon to explain
the visions from beyond.
There is no reason
for the angels and red devils.
Will I awake with guidance
from these fae messengers?
Their words are different
when repose is my native land.

With thoughts full released
from visions of forty winks
I consider if I've been told
the truth now unconcealed.
I'll not play both sides
when the truth is the mean.
Dualities may haunt my rest.
To wake is my sole escape.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160104.

The poem “Fay Embrace” is about the nightly encounters in the realm of sleep.

Fay Embrace
Bonus Poem for Day 311 – 20151108

Sent from realms incorporeal,
perhaps from heaven or from hell,
neither mattered to me then
when intimacy was a kiss.

Your body held me close,
for a moment I was loss.
Submerged in earthly delight
in the realm off in the stars.

Our murmurs did lip breach,
spoken words to fill the space,
second to the physical,
chorus to the amour kept.

The world around a fantasy,
mirage of the day's awakening,
your reaction dispassionate,
so I carried on with our zeal.

I pushed forward in recklessness,
a soul driven to compensate
for a reality beyond the veil,
the waking dream yet incomplete.

Our tryst too soon ceased,
fading as smoke in that state.
Another scene took its place
as you were pulled from my arms.

Fay embrace in my dreams,
lovely phantom I do need,
I leave you now when I wake,
smiling as your kiss slowly fades.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.