kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“In The End” was prompted by the comment made by by Rufas Edmisten (Deputy Chief Counsel, Watergate Committee): “Sometimes impressions are killers, almost as much as much as the actual.”


In The End

Wear the masks at your peril
they’re for play, that’s the plan
make a point to scare the rubes
while there’s risk you’ll confront

today’s dreams may not last
of power gained, the earth your own
it’s all borrowed from below
from the one taking souls

presentation is the door
revelation of what’s inside
even as the acts are mimed
they promise what will surely come

the sharpest knives are not seen
seeming dull when waved about
slicing wounds upon the self
cutting deep to spill the blood

this is the risk of mockery
embracing acts most condemn
though the line is not crossed
the stakes are same in the end.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170625.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“Exhaustion’s Child” is based on some notes I gathered after the election of our 45th President.


Exhaustion’s Child

I went to sleep, exhaustion child’s
the hot line jammed, no resort
the panic has run its course
at the start I still had hope.

Now a monster roams the world
success the measure, his driving aim
with masses lured by a frightened call
asking nothing, this they’ll have.

Against this backdrop our history called
when my friends turned to the dark
wanting security above all else
turned to fiends beyond the veil.

The decrees are the outcome
forced by a country wishing change
by the ambitious with dollar signs
carved in books, religion’s mark.

That past night they didn’t care
who had won, which one departed
this was the thought by the dismayed
now I sleep, wishing the same.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170505.
kokopelle: (BRA - Dangerous)
The Planet P song "My Radio Talks To Me" prompted me to write the poem "A Fool". The song features the voice of Hitler berating his country to action. I feel relief that our 45th has not (yet, hopefully never) realized the dreams of his alt-right supporters. While a conservative Supreme Court Justice has been put in place, the dominionist longings of the uber-evangelical are doomed to failure (for now). These sentiments are the focus of my poem.


A Fool

Thank the Lord for a fool
not the next Hitler in our midst
though his followers would like this
the rest of us are too blessed
"return the whites to power's seat"
say the alts on the right
hoisting him on their shoulders
only to realize he is a hoax.

Religion could take the stage
center to all that's said
if money were not the crux
of that ego's need to rule the world
homage is paid to holy men
or those who would like to rule
by the staff of dogma's breath
that path is blocked by power's dupe.

To be right is all that counts
apologies are the loser's fall
instead his road is to the sun
Icarus warns of consequence
the one trick pony with his Justice
nothing more can come of this
when the stench of failure spreads
the tumble will shake the land.

Caution is for lesser men
art of the deal is his path
most will lose for one to win
pray the world pays due heed
in the end my hope is this
that the fool remains himself
wanting more than he will have
while the true power is denied.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170425.
kokopelle: (Professor Chaos - Evil)
The poem "Better's Way" is a junction between the classic line "We thought we could do better. Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse, for some." (from "The Handmaid's Tale") and the hijinks of The Freedom Caucus during the 2017 ACA repeal and replace effort. The cold-hearted audacity of The Freedom Caucus runs contrary to every liberal bone in my body, and I would hope, the compassionate bones in many peoples' frames.


Better's Way

"We thought we could do better"
says those beholden to one percent
by paycheck wrote or dogma writ
imposing worse on rest of us
bending knee at master's chair
or sitting high upon the throne
in the end the same will be:
form a world of their own.

Money taken out of pocket
is more pain that brother’s torment
a dollar taken asks revenge
smiting those who beg for bread
holy words denounced by the masses
mean more than common kindness
respect given to the godhead shared
is trampled in rush to worship idols.

Freedom becomes a catch word used
for when what is theirs matters most
damn the weaker who cannot enforce
the same truth on a squalid world
caucus is group of the minds
with same goal to serve the world
if the globe includes only them
and the masters who pay the bills.

Better never means “for all”
when the masses pay the price
for the elite that held most high
with knowledge their god will comply
it’s always worse for the some
especially for the rabble scum
forced to grovel by those who play
champions of the better’s way.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170324.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
Thoughts about appropriation connected with articles about the political compromises of the religious groups. Good motivations are turned foul as the steering is taken over by those worship power as their true divinity. The outcome of these ponderings is the poem "Priests of Gods".


Priests of Gods

If they could rise from dusty graves
interned by hands in the years of old
would they know the way we praise
in the way of gods they knew?
the priests are young upon this earth
the acolytes are breaths of wind
the gods look down to shake their heads
wondering at the whims of man

this generation holds a line
hallowed idols are their guide
ego mixed with fear's prodding
that all that matters is the gain
principalities of the earth
ruling over the unwashed ones
appeasing rabble now unleashed
while building their power base

the good and evil mix as one
common goals spoil hallowed grounds
taint of demon would be less foul
than compromise for power's guile
whispering that means are blessed
no matter who or what is grasped
when all that matters falls in place
the end a curse, perdition found

appropriation becomes the norm
the highest goals brought so low
by usurpers crowing good
when in their hearts they pollute
the principles of ancestors
who may have had the same clay feet
yet who are we to hold up high
examples of the priests of gods?

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170222.
kokopelle: (ATHF - Shake)
“Least Qualified” is a social commentary poem about the 45’s choices of government department leadership.


Least Qualified

The least qualified fill the voids
by the measure of experience
or the mark of temperament
you’d wonder how this could be
when the least adequate preside
ready to wreck the world

conflicts become the norm
agendas contrary to the task
according to the old missions
set by the sane architects
with principles aligned
to the purpose of the governance

perhaps there is a grand plan
a reason for the disconnect
puppet master pulling strings
then I realize it is more dire
chaos spawned by currency
the qualified lack pocket books

the affluent will now reign
with the programs of their own
groomed to satisfy the few
it matters not when money rules
most qualified is still in play
by legal tender as resume.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170218.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
Politics have always been an exercise in spin. It feels like this is about to go into overdrive as formally disenfranchised or excluded groups are quietly ushered into the part. One thing is said when another is meant. Words trigger a specific reaction in some groups but not others. The poem “Sublime Rules” is about this phenomenon.


Sublime Rules

Look behind the words portrayed
for a truth that lays beyond
betrayed by the lies in front
the unspoken matters more
the signs distract by design
verbal cues that do not mean
what is said by evil men
smiling big with bad intent.

Symbols ask for audience
simple cues to the flock
meaning nothing to outlanders
witnesses of a message sent
one thing shown, another meant
confusion for the innocent
don’t ask what’s inferred
only members know the gist.

In the end the whistles sound
hidden from the world at large
by the word or by the flag
the devoted know what’s implied
barking when none may hear
salivating at thin air
madness buried deep in the mind
who is the master when sublime rules?

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161124.
kokopelle: (Red Guy)
Newt Gingrich has characterized Trump’s wall with Mexico as “a great campaign device”. At very best this means it might not be practical in reality. Does he really mean it was a lie? These grist led me to write “Devil Whispered”.


Devil Whispered

The Devil whispered in my ear
lullabies to match my tears
asking nothing more than this
to believe the world as it is
he pointed out that dies were cast
the levers pulled at long last
by the angry ones of single mind
no longer quiet in this time.

The lilting lyrics destroyed the truth
first casualty under foot
stampeded while the crowed exalted
the madman chosen to be most popular
it's just a campaign device
Lucifer admitted when cross examined
excitement was the spice of life
when arenas were filled with the lies.

The crooning filled my heart with fear
as I considered things held dear
each syllable was a gravestone set
on future fields with bodies strewn
to the winners go the spoils
this he stated was the goal
some blood must spill to lubricate
the wheels of progress immersed in hate.

Amongst these murmurs I’m fading fast
my sanity gone at last
the oft repeated becomes the chant
with only hope as a last chance
denying future of moans and screams
no accompaniment to Devil's dreams
instead embracing light and love
salvation waits outside of words.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161116.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
I really really want to write a happy happy poem. Not yet, so I present “What’s the Worse?”.


What’s the Worse?

Rulers come and rulers go
casting doubt out to the fold
asking grace with short returns
the fears are real as rumors turn

the curtain hides what is behind
mutterings heard off in the dark
the shadow mocks the truer form
omens taunt the peace of mind

the sun still blooms in the sky
the stars still turn overhead
neither cares if words are cursed
by forked tongues holding court

tears are held until the morn
when all decisions come to roost
waiting for the shoe to drop
rumors are the only news

look to the clues that trail
the concessions made to confuse
as peace is made in the now
before the war consumes the world

the settled fog is lingering
in the realm of humankind
the sole question is the key
what’s the worse that could happen?

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161115.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“Their Time” is a poetic examination of the political rabbit hole.


Their Time

I've slipped down the rabbit hole
to find a world I once deplored
now transfixed as terra firma
dark fantasies are that much closer
for the ones once on the outside
the door has opened with winked invite
bidding fantasies to be expressed
asking nothing to be withheld
what was held deep in the dark
long held grudges now come to light

looking back at how this came
the cardboard targets were arrayed
behind closed doors for the crowds
filled with holes by practice shots
chants filled the air from raw throats
yelling loud for the earth to turn
the imagined to be allowed
by virtue of the ruling clout
permission granted to find their prey
to hunt in open by light of day

calming voices percolate
higher in the hole were I plunge
asking for my fight to yield
cooperation for my status quo
pledging that the landing found
will have no pain, this disavowed
while in the dark I hear the knives
sharpened on the whetting stones
desiring blood, it is their time.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161111.
kokopelle: (BRA - Dangerous)
I am on the verge of ending it all because of the lunacy in the presidential race. I’ll admit that I am anti-Trump. He is quoted saying things that no future president should say. At this point I would welcome a traditional conservative candidate. Dare I say it… Cruz? I’ve read articles that explain the ideological divides that exist. The poem “Flocks Confirmed” is based on these thoughts.


Flock Confirmed

Welcome traveler to this land
where tribes do fight with burning eyes
you’ll wonder how this came to be
be careful how you now proceed.

The hate is now well steeped
filling every single crevice
deep within the screeching voice
of dog whistles blown to call.

Coded to assure the flock
not enough to alarm the others
stroking grooves worn in stone
invisible to the outside storm.

Nothing here to see observer
we are sane in our enclosure
this mantra is said with confidence
when sanity is told by self.

So my friend now well confused
if malice seems to be entrenched
turn away or be consumed
by hatred of the flock confirmed.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160914.
kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
“Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory”. The tussles of the 2016 Presidential season reminded me of this verse. Spiritual compromises are made by good people in support of a truly evil candidate. Others are revealed to have no spiritual value as their grasping of power is plainly revealed.


High Mountain

When sin is what belief assumes
the breadth and width of all
the mantel of command is worn
with thorns added to pierce
kind guidance hangs as chains
on the tongues of hypocrites
bedfellows birth hybrid spawn
sum of the worst now combined
the flesh is weak says this lot
unable to fulfill their goals
the world belongs to the one
seen upon the high mountain
stretching far as the eye can see
with no escape until light recedes.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160913.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
I started "Have to Lose" with the third stanza in the first's position. A friend posted pointed words about Trump's call "what do you have to lose?". I praise my friend for their outrage and I offer up this poem as a fearful testament to my concerns.


Have to Lose

Power held is sure to slip
if not renewed by consequence
of favors owed to the world
while the Devil takes his spoils.

The field was tilled with hatred's filth
manure of fear’s despair
by spiteful minds now long toiled
to prepare the way for their lord.

From pillared heights in golden chairs
fates are shorn with razor blades
welded by the one percent
cutting flesh from the repressed.

Surety is the greatest wound
inflicted by the ardent fool
bent to press the world to kneel
while angels beg the soul to heal.

With sick ease the knife does it work
faceless meat is the butcher's view
when all is same from that height
querying what do you have to lose?

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160823.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
The poem “Backwards Downhill” was inspired by a politically based conversation I endured. As a Blue person in a Red state, I have to listen to people talking about the evils of Clinton. I expect my Red neighbors to hate her because of her political leanings. I have to admit I react poorly the general description of “Republican Politician”. This is normality. The conversation then moved to the latest in right-wing conspiracy theories, most of them circling around Clinton being a lying political mobster who assassinates her opponents (and anybody who threatens her). Apparently they don’t read the same “fact checking” pieces I do, but again, to each their own conspiracy Kool-Aid. The conversation hit a low point when Clinton’s appearance was discussed, finally ending with a discussion of how often she has intimate relations with Bill. Clue: both were very negative. I was left wondering, what the heck does this have to do with her being a leader? It was misogyny at its most ugly. Sadly these were people I largely respect, but apparently politics bring out the worse in people.

In my estimation the discussion I heard went backwards and downhill. I’ll admit that my first impression of people is based on external factors. I’m not proud of this. In time I learn more about the person, moving beyond the physical. Gossip about the person would tell me a few things. I would then form my own positive or negative impression of the person’s character based on personal experience. The sequence of events in the conversation I endured was backwards and downhill with discrediting based on association, then gossip, and then physical characteristics. They don’t talk about their favorite (or unfavorite) sports coaches in this way, with salacious speech about appearance and mating suitability. Hence my statement about misogyny.

All-in-all this was a soul numbing, gouge my eyes out, slash my wrists experience. I can only hope that future generations don’t suffer from toxic character judgements of the type I witnessed.


Backwards Downhill

Conversation
flows backwards
first with insight
then with slurs
above the belt
is the start
in darkest evil
is where it stops.

Differences
will occur
when power finds
the ones that hold
this fated world
in their grasp
as angels cry
for souls now lost.

Humanity strives
to be hell bent
even as godly
fully hate
those of difference
marked from them
by tainted thoughts
and warped beliefs.

Tongues salute
matters high
grist for milling
division's yield
to be human
is to disagree
yet something else
will have its fill.

What follows here
matters not
to leader's ease
or follower's choice
when lowest slander
is the means
to attack the one
that you must hate.

Gender defines
those trapped within
as skin color
does the same
justifying
scorn's delight
as smugness rolls
from ego's lips.

In the end
I wonder if
I want to be
part of this circus
the big top round
with hate relished
by those who speak
backwards downhill.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160810.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
The poem “Betrayal” is a largely free form examination of a group’s perception that they are under attack.

Betrayal

Erosion of power
loss of privilege
bulwarks tested
walls breached
control slipping
demotion granted
forbidden blessed
the fear is real
tradition warns
prophets preach
crusade’s draw
in the streets
sibling faiths
with dark skin
retribution asked
the bill is due
the attack has come
from the unsaved
from the unwashed
from the deluded
when brokers turn
on their brethren.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160730.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
The emerging Republican platform is designed as “far to the Right” by The New York Times. They compared the 2016 platform to the 2012 platform and found a conservative head wind even though judicially some planks had been decided since 2012.

“Republicans moved on Tuesday toward adopting a staunchly conservative platform that takes a strict, traditionalist view of the family and child rearing, bars military women from combat, describes coal as a “clean” energy source and declares pornography a “public health crisis.

And what Republicans will probably end up with when they formally vote next week to ratify the platform approved in committee on Tuesday is a text that can seem almost Victorian in its moralizing and deeply critical of how the modern American family has evolved.”

I had read of the upcoming division as Trump headed into the convention with the GOP faithful. It seemed that the need to win would take precedence over a civil war. This may not be the case, as the platform described in the article seems to be a Procrustean bed tailor made to challenge the presumptive presidential candidate, Donald Trump. Do they expect Trump to fail, and want the platform to state the pure vision of the GOP? Perhaps. It is definitely not a “united” game plan.


Procrustean Bed for Trump

Welcome weary traveler
you'll find a home here
with rest made to suit us
by cutting down the tall
by stretching out the short.

Procrustes had his bed
iron made to fit
everyone has a chance
to comply to the purity
to prove their ability.

The smith is our fervor
ideology of the right
both in name and direction
will take no prisoners
will give up no ground.

We've heard your complaints
and tossed them aside
as deviants to be marked
corrections to be made
compliance will be the path.

Improvements have been made
to a situation most dire
the saw is now sharper
the manacles pull harder
so the visitor will comply.

In the end this is best
for all those concerned
please lay down to see
the path to our side
as your length is made right.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160713.
kokopelle: (Professor Chaos - Angry)
I was listening to internet radio (Spotify) and heard the song “Better” by Banks. It has the line “I can love you better than she can”. This struck me as the theme of Trump's election campaign, so I wrote pseudo lyrics that could be sung by him.


Better Than She Can

You've got another choice
she won't treat you right
I can love you better
I can hold you better
I can rule you better
than she can.

Liars know their own kind
I can tell you they are one
my sweet words will mold your soul
she seeks to only to abuse the same.

I'm your sugar daddy she abhors
I'll protect your big money
no matter what I whisper by the pillow
you know where my bread is buttered.

Your money will remain in pocket
our enemies will be dispatched
the lesser ones will be in their place
this coddling is what I promise.

I'm greater than you can believe
allow the narcissism to wash over you
you'll really really like me
you'll be a big fan of mine.

I'm the one you wish you were
reality star with a model wife
model citizen of the upper crust
ready to get down with the louts.

You'll only cry at night
we need to be great again
I can love you better
I can hold you better
I can rule you better
than she can.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160610.
kokopelle: (Professor Chaos - Angry)
Donald Trump, the GOP presumptive presidential nominee, once again hit the news with his attacks on a sitting judge hearing a judicial case impacting Trump. He accused the judge of being influenced by his heritage, and thus unable to impartially determine the case. Many ripped into Trump. More continued to give him grudging support because he is their best (only) chance of taking the executive branch. All of this inspired me to write “Find Your Place”. It is written from the perspective of a person supporting Trump. The poem speaks to the power driven shallowness I am seeing played out.



Find Your Place

You ask me why I support the man
I say that there is more at hand
than what you see and what you fear
so sit on back and hear my tale.

This racist is the one we know
against the enemy of our caucus.
The stink of human weakness pales
when power of policy is near at hand.

To speak the words is not the same
as burning a cross on the lawn
or painting the symbol on the wall
when words are weapons he employs.

To speak in racist tones is bold
attention called to a tainted soul
the lesser seeking harsh revenge
on a higher mind you think racist.

I'd not defend if it were true
your slander set to our soldier
that fights for tribute in the end
of this brutal game with no conscience.

I'll tell you why attacks persist
I'd not be here if I did not believe
in truth and justice plundered for
dominance over such simple minds.

They fear the man for future tasks
they'll love him once all is done
your betters know the righteous way
so sit on back and find your place.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160609.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
I had the inspiration to write a poem about jokers when I saw a picture of Heath Ledger on Tumblr. The political news of the day turned this inspiration to a poem about politics.


Jokers

There are jokers in the deck
we've stacked the cards in the end
with shouts of righteous rage
with exclamations of life undone.

Red joker, black joker
where there should be none
we thought these were removed
now they are back by two.

One by journey of many miles
one carried by an angry mob
neither are loved by many
each is the best alternative.

I'll pray that the joker is not the Trump
you may vote for who you want
in the end our hearts will bleed
as all good animals lay down to cry.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160607.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
“Somber Heart” is about the motivations of those who support controversial political figures. It is easy to paint them with a broad brush, but this does them and their motivations curt injustice. Shouting them down does little good as it only reinforces their views. In the end they strive for change with a somber heart.


Somber Heart

My words ask for deliverance
from the slander you express,
to the scarlet letter you impress
on a soul that means the best.
Stamped with the mark of the beast
the same as the one I long to see
sent to office to represent
my anger focused on incompetence.

Them's fighting words I proclaim
in vernacular of me and mine
I don't take kindly to insult
when my dismissal is the end goal.
You think you love when you hate
might makes right the battle call
as your crusades break my heart
my interest is on what's best.

Sacred towers came tumbling down
you were there on opposite side
of the wreck done to holy writ
as God and nature was blasphemed there.
In these ruins no leaders speak
beyond tired placation to my ear.
I put the blame at their feet
these guardians that doomed me here.

I seek the lone champion
to draw the sword from the stone
to make right what is now wrong
where others failed to my dismay.
Apologies will not be forthright
when culture is at the brink
when jobs are spilled as sacrifice
to the world as I'm betrayed.

You say my choice is devil sent
a rude buffoon or criminal
and from this placard you attach
the same on me as consequence.
Flaws are the mark of humanity
to remind us of our fallen state
yet you strike with too broad a brush
when you seek to still my somber heart.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160506.

Profile

kokopelle: Horse Totem (Default)
kokopelle

July 2017

S M T W T F S
       1
2 3 4 5 6 7 8
9 10 11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20 21 22
23242526272829
3031     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 23rd, 2017 04:45 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios