kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
“Illusion of the Words” was inspired by a photo of a store in South Korea that had the signage, “I still hide you in my poetry”. Exploration of this theme led me to a place where I consider poetry to be an attempt to feel the heat of the past, even though the fires are long gone.


Illusion Of The Words

The veil of years have obscured
emotions felt that linger cold
heart’s possessions words describe
hiding embers in poetry
kept there safe so I’m assured
what I’ve lost may be found

a woeful bard declares the rhymes
to remember past tenderness
weaving these in lyrics blessed
thus I’ll hide the memories
layered in my many poems
across the span of tearful odes

asking muse to evoke joy
from the dust my pen inscribes
in echoed halls I’ll describe
there the flame may still burn
with no heat to warm my heart
because it’s illusion of the words.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170710.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
The absence of people asks for a denial that they were ever real. The absence of the self acts the same.


They’re Gone

It’s easier to think they’re gone
memory conveniently left behind
a tombstone in the grass of thoughts
sculptured lawn is all that’s left

past ecstasy, joy’s last gasp
in a memory that asks for more
screams that echo in the void
as silence takes what’s been lost

on the edge of life, near no more
death seems closer than spark of self
vitality’s assumed to be the norm
so says those closer to existence’s coil

still alive, yet expired in mind
has doom taken one that shined?
imaginations would say this is so
waking dreams are nightmare’s grist

only in darkness, far from light
the shadows keep their stolen prize
child of brightness in hell’s grip
brimstone provides the only light

It’s easier to think I’m gone
this is your option before I pass
the new tombstone on lawn’s expanse
the pain will lessen with false recall.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170311.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
“Hide the Feelings” is about the inclination to retreat from life after the ache and heartbreak that life may encounter.


Hide the Feelings

I’ll hide the feelings, put them away
so they would die away from my heart
put in strong bags tied up in cord
then put in boxes buried six deep

you’d ask why I take these dire steps
to put away parts of myself to the earth
there to find peace with the consuming worms
never to be seen in the light of the sun

the shadows beckoned on my cave walls
echoes of beauty’s call to my heart
whispering promises I should have ignored
if only loneliest had not taken its toll

I strove from the depths to meet what may come
softness and hardness welcomed my touch
each in their time to enhance the moment
sadly they passed when seconds elapsed

emotion flowed from the offered wellspring
drunk deep in gusto as affection was felt
ambrosia consumed with no thought to be had
to the hangover suffered as night turned to day

there I was lost as the shadows pressed in
the shapes that cast them were lost to the haze
of sadness and grief, each piled on top
of loss of the self I had tossed to the light

back into my cave I retreat to recoup
the wounds hold their bite as they find health
curse be the longing to embrace the dawn
beyond the cold shelter of burrow’s tomb

the feelings are done, their purpose was naught
I’ll have no need to suffer at their odd whim
the only concern I have as I retreat
perhaps I’ll forget where I buried my life.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170219.
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)
“So Mote It Be” is about returning to reality after a relationship ends.


So Mote It Be

Memories pass like fading dreams
forgotten in normality
another day lived like the first
without the flavor that’s been lost

I've returned from that place
where intimates talk of lesser things
while hinting at mighty tales
spun from affairs of the world

sanity has found recourse
back from source of comfort's realm
by turning round to the start
where all began before the fall

trivial matters put to earth
buried with the feelings lost
gossamer wings sent to the air
heavy hearts put on the shelf

the trees will remain all green
only the fruit will disappear
time reversed in the fertile glade
with wave of the dismissive hand

below, above, in-between
forever gone as I grieve
the path returns to the place
where I began, so mote it be.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170131.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
Our dreams are portals to meeting those lost to the waking life. Illusions? Yes, but still there is joy in such a small visitation.


To Dream in My Sleep
Poem for Day 269 – 20150927

To dream in my sleep,
not the waking kind,
is my deepest wish.
My dear awaits there,
in deepest shadow,
of sleeper's quest.

Non-reality,
where mind's shadows
echo my desires
in hallucinations
of life's mirage.
Experienced by
my traveling self
through the longing
of past made present.

There you reside,
wearing another's
face, one or many,
portrayed against
stages of the past,
or those imagined,
when we meet again.

Hold my questing hand,
connect my cold lips,
absent from your arms,
this survivor's soul.
Find me and keep me,
here in reverie
of oblivion.

To dream in my sleep,
to never awake,
with the one I lost
so long ago.
May I always dream
of the one too soon
taken before me.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (Dark God)
Writers take inspiration from their world. Sometimes the inspiration is joyful. Other times it is painful or bitter sweat.


Pages
Poem for Day 234 – 20150822

Turn back the pages,
review the spilled ink.
You are the fae past
that anchors my soul.
You are in my words,
a mark on my heart.
The world has turned,
the spark not yet out.

My past revenant,
so many mentions,
with none you will know.
Lifetime together,
that is how it felt.
Now eternity
so cruelly apart.

I read you and miss you
when pages are the tale,
where desire fights fate
and life marches on.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (Dark God)
Listening to the Placebo internet radio station will lean the lyricist in darker directions. My poem “Heaven's Memory” is about fondly remembered people no longer in our lives. It is about the perceived terrible difference between what once was and what is now.


Heaven's Memory
Poem for Day 171 – 20150620

There was a time when heaven
was incarnate in this place.
Now glimpses are all I have,
enough to live but not to love.
Echoes of hope bouncing
across gaps in the worlds.
Heaven has been displaced,
memory is all I have left.

Heaven has left,
memory in its place.
Heaven no more.

Is my soul is the only price
for a memory of heaven?
Excursion harshly blessed by
a single photo, dance, or song.
Memory flickers at their touch,
others a poor amor substitute,
the songs signposts of places lost,
heaven's void filled with my tears.

Heaven has left,
memory in its place.
Heaven no more.

What was my role in that place?
I forget how I came by the luck,
the fortune to walk in heaven,
by fate's desire to taunt me now.
Heaven lost to move the world,
time's price for the good of all.
I'll pay my due, dance the tune,
take my excursions where I can.

Heaven has left,
memory in its place.
Heaven no more,
no more since you're gone.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
kokopelle: (Dark God)
There are those who pass out of our lives by fate or choice. Perhaps they are deceased, or we are dead to them. The end is the same: images without voice, memories without connection.


Silent Pantomime
Poem for Day 006 – 20150106

Harken to my side,
my silent pantomime.
Time has stolen your voice
from my fading memories.
Was our time together,
oh so long ago,
a reality shared by both,
or just a fairy tale of mine?
You've passed away,
or perhaps I have,
but the end result is the same,
I cannot hear you voice
telling me you love me so.

The music plays on,
a dirge lay upon my heart,
as snapshots of images
accompany your silent verse.
Were you real pantomime?
I cannot tell now,
fevered memories left behind
as you gesture across time,
frenzied stills so sublime
against the backdrop of memories.
My silent pantomime.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

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