kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
The poem “Feelings Caught” was inspired by a Tumblr meme that included the poem’s title.   Firstly I find the slang to be poignant.   Secondly, I’ve sworn myself off of the activity.  Sometimes life has other plans.


Feelings Caught

Feelings caught become the trap
waiting for unwary saps
wishing something to address
the crush of sad loneliness

that need to put aside the shield
armor worn against the storms
rain combined with thunderbolts
puts up a  shelter to console

these echoes matter little now
when the gulf between the souls
eternal silence becoming all
matters more than paling scars

still the snares may intrude
set with bait hung with hearts
this matters not when the void
is safety’s realm that none rejoice.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190928.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
The poem “Without Respite” was inspired by a meme that stated “You’ll want someone else soon”. The cat character was seen saying “No” over and over again. 149 words total.


Without Respite

The wanting lingered without respite
an intruder that cared not
for the mercies of a staid life
away from the passions on my mind

borne on a wind of comeliness
though not a stunner by most concerned
the breath that stirred the fallen leaves
became the storm that leaves me weak

a total package at last glimpsed
the secret unfolding in due time
a bright flower I now observe
rare among the other blooms

if only more could see this belle
the glamour would beguile all
perhaps I’m biased on this point
struck by a spell in my heart

yet in my core I know I must
seek a path away from lust
still distraction rings the gong
it’s with regret that I stand strong

a sum of parts assails me still
though there is more to this tale
when the dream walks upright
the wanting burns without respite.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181119.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
The poem “Denies the Bloom” is a cautionary poem about the timing of romance.


Denies the Bloom

The greed for fruit denies the bloom
for what came before to produce
the product eaten as a food
proceeded by the floral wooing

though it’s fragile without compare
without the gift to satisfy
fulfillment will arrive in time
when the order is not denied

appetites that range afar
from the bland to hot desires
all must wait for the day
when bounty follows promised growth

hunger denies the stoic pace
first the love and then the taste
elders offer sagacity
beware what grows if cravings reign

the bounty found without regard
to the cycles that mark love
will produce the poisoned prize
a victory lap before the race

it’s not that carnal is disallowed
all is consumed in due time
when the flowers are pursued
to produce fruit that’s succulent.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181118.
kokopelle: (Cat - Bunny Love)
The poem “When In Love” is the answer to the prompting question “Does the color matter at all when in love? “


When In Love

Does the color matter when in love?
asks the prompt to launch a poem
not in the least I will respond
as comfort found is number one

eschew society no matter what
when their opinions are prejudiced
against a person for nothing more
than pigment layered above the heart

it’s tough enough to find another
echoing passions with due ardor
in a world all too cold
loneliness appears to rule

look to where romance appears
to edge the bet against this chance
by complying to bigotry
is sad folly when answering love.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181110.
kokopelle: (Cat - Bunny Love)
The poem “The Week” was prompted by the request to write a poem about a rendezvous, meeting, tryst, encounter, or hideout. The secret midnight assignation is made public by the poet’s hand. I turned to the world of social dancing to document such an encounter.


The Week

The week has passed without respite
the hole made large by encounter’s lack
until at last the moment came
to once again step away
this rendezvous outside the lines
drawn on the map to console
uncaring souls who would condemn
congregating to dance anew

to these ends the time has comes
assignation to soothe the hearts
loneliness swept aside
as two gather to strut as one
a glance confirms the mutual
dual intents matched to meet a lack
no longer will the craving burn
when it’s fed for a song

the crowd of hundreds melts away
no longer present in the room
pushed by passion of the dalliance
to the realms beyond desire
stepping between the here and there
a tryst completed without remorse
what’s now sated will find repose
until the same time comes again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181107.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
The poem “By The Wrapper” was inspired thoughts about affection supported by more than the surface normative.


By The Wrapper

To vouch a love by the wrapper
appearance measured above all other
ascribed to bits attached therein
excludes the passions that may linger

distractions are plentiful
defining beauty by all groups
be they religious in their stead
or commercial making bread

the subtle hint or much more
by the curve or flesh shown
both evoke a quick judgment
knowingness that will conflict

with perfection found within
below the surface of the skin
beyond pretension of organs
placed by nature to procure

when not needed they are surplus
to the pursuit of true love
that longs apart from fae sight
touch extending to the heart

the clues forsaken allow for more
now just a nudge before the fall
love is found in true romance
absent in the wrapper’s charm.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181014.
kokopelle: (Cat - Bunny Love)
The poem “If Stars Could Kiss” was based on the quote “if only stars could kiss us goodnight”. A bit of word play turned into a poem espousing the virtues of polyamory.


If Stars Could Kiss

If stars could kiss their supplicants
showing mercy in romance
the world would shine that much more
in response to heaven’s boon

so far below the sparkling gaze
kindred seek harmony
running from the blinding light
along the paths lit by sparks

no fierce sun should stand alone
orb to wield a virtue’s curse
such a ruler is too much
incinerating questing souls

smooches turned to destroy
when amour is singular
look to night’s dark canopy
where magnitudes come to play

the glow is far to much
when the source is just one
instead a sky must step forth
to transform night to perfect dusk

consider how this would be
high and low snuggling close
with rewards that defy
expectations of the heart.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180515.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
“Rainbow Bursting” was inspired by a quote found on Tumblr: “I’m so cold, I wish I could dip myself in the warmth of someone who understands”.


Rainbow Bursting

I seek the warmth I don’t have
absent long before this day
forever dusk in shaded dreams
evoking less while wanting more

this request is put to all
or to the oracle beyond my veil
the first neglects by ignorance
latter knows the spell to cast

a vision owned by only one
delusion granted in solitude
a path worn between the hills
single steps made by my heels

when night resides deep within
the light it shines is shadow’s edge
the deep cuts are not seen
divine red in midnight’s realm

black on gray beyond the pale
ashen seeking more colors
when the former holds them all
a prison fortress of the soul

this will doom those who stand
alone without their common kind
spectrum from red to grape
with the rest in between

warmth is found in the heart
understanding reveals the dawn
awakening more than I am
rainbow bursting at long last.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171212.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
“What I’ll Disregard” is about the struggle of emotions against the bulwark of common societal norms.


What I’ll Disregard

I meet the longed consequence
imagination of what cannot be
passion misplaced once again
reminding me I’m still alive

the molded clay betrays its source
imperfection raised to walk above
even while the passion awakes
reducing me to crave too much

perhaps I’ll forget what I feel
it’s no good you simple fool
memory fails as a refuge

to drive away the taint of lust

when the emotion is the primal drive
dictating what I’ll disregard
and what begs to be seen
though this damns eternal souls

they say this was meant to be
but now I will not procreate
ashes remain in the pit
not as dead as they should be

hot desire remains in the end
dispassionate calm swept aside
with one servant held to heart
reminding me I’m alive.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171207.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
A Tumblr theme of roses inspired me to write “Hues of Red”. The poem is about the risks of pursuing beauty, the frailty of humanity, and the perseverance of love.


Hues of Red

A ruby rose describes you well
beauty blessed with leaves of green
icon that once defined kings
now a lure for paramours

from the base you were plucked
brought on stage to stand alone
suitors passed then interest waned
when they viewed the consequence

the stem embraced draws fresh blood
in sacrifice to love’s urge
Venus offers devotion’s pain
hope in league with ache of heart

now embedded, the pain may end
no guarantee is made for this
embedded spikes become the norm
crimson cues of loyalty

I’m attached to ruby rose
brought together by barbs shared
once engaged I’ll bend my knee
add my blood to hues of red.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170921.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
“Break The Mold” was written in recognition that my romantic inclinations are varied in their scope.


Break The Mold

A percent would defy my desire
across breadth of life's display
with so many choices to be had
my attractions may be diverse
seeing life in the grays
beyond numbers fixed in place
figures defied in the pursuit
of connection sought for comfort's sake
or perhaps romance beyond all that.

Please don't see me as a freak
uncaring for other’s rights
I have regard for consequence
barriers are found on the path
avenues I dare not pursue
this is natural for in the world
with due respect I'll address them all
passion visited only with invite
put aside when the time is not right.

Variations stream to infinite
God was the master craftsman
yet I have my preferences
predilections push my heart
excite my zeal for romantic bliss
or stir realms down below
factors far beyond gender's bend
some are strange, the others not
combining to break the mold.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170920.
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)
The poem “Wanting More” was prompted by two lines in the song “Orbit” byt SYDE, Ashe: “I will not be afraid / To kiss the lips that send me in orbit”. I wrote my version of those two lines, and then continued on, with the outcome being a statement of love expressed against societal displeasure.


Wanting More

I will not restrain myself
to kiss the lips that lift my heart
this is my goal above all things
no matter what the world may think

some may judge the form's content
raise their book, call me damned
I care not for their verdict
it's not their lips that I'll embrace

"don't show me that" is their refrain
as if my smooch, this PDA
is enough to end their world
with their abhorrence, perhaps it should

in full respect, consent returned
this transgression will occur
though I would name it otherwise
cuddle of faces, love's award

romance's quest makes us all as one
adults questing a kindred mind
desire to join in mouths' pleasure
stating passion, wanting more.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170609.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
A meme from the film “Juno” inspired me to write the poem “With Every Thought”.


With Every Thought

I think I’m in love with you
perhaps I can share what comes
with the very thought of…

more than the fantasy
beyond the myths of poets
the one I’m blessed to know
being present in your company
for a moment in the beginning
an accident I’ll gladly accept
longer as our paths crossed
until you’re always in my mind
taking what life will present

hearing your smile in laughter’s bliss
inside the eyes as the refrain
the heart home of rapture’s mirth
joy in the light and the dark
sorrow asking for kindness blessed
grins rejoicing when all is well
charm through sound and from gaze

lastly I’ll reveal the best
feeling you touch my hand
knowing there is so much more
not needing beyond the moment
(still so much desired, yes please yes)
lean one body against another one
(yours to mine and versa-vice)
then lips to kiss, tongue to press
so very nice, thank you much

so many ways, each tumbling
together in the sum of you
into love with every thought.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170306.
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: Frank n Furter (frank_n_furter)
Literature was the original anonymous writing platform. Words are crafted to speak deep truths while hiding the same. Kings are taunted and unrequited romantic requests were sent. “When You’re the One” is a cheeky celebration of the latter.


When You’re the One

If you wonder if you're the one
spoke in prose, endearment’s choice
or wrapped in wonder at life's travails
perhaps you are, consider this
I'll broach not names as I relate
my life unwoven in stanza's breath
put to page so it may lay
away from breast where my heart prays.

Love and lost have been quick themes
along with longing for distant things
a pity as near as you’re to me
yet far too distant to speak with glee
in this space I wrote the poems
echoed feelings from the heart
putting tags on the “you”
by scrape of pen and move of quill.

No gender pronouns shall be used
to soon exclude half of the room
when the all world is my fair game
for vain attentions I've exclaimed
the only clue is three letters long
the reader asks how to respond
when their name may have same length
while pronouns mask my true intent.

If the "you" was held to heart
whispered not in black and white
they'd never know of my resolve
this burden carried by the one
this subterfuge is not to taunt
or tease the one that resonates
with stanzas borne on sorrow's pen
cast outside so I may heal.

Out there in breadth of wide world
my truest target knows the mark
as I aim straight at their heart
my words discrete in camouflage
whilst all around the others puzzle
at this dance between the couple
seen in silhouette of words
consummating never more.

In this crowd I sought safety
pleaded for anonymity
with a nod it was given
on the face that knew the truth
my words are wrapped in thinnest gauze
meant to shade the piercing sun
if your wit is half as bright
I'll not hide in plain sight.

My subterfuge is made deeper
by choice of photo to include
with the stanzas made up of verse
focused on the one obscured
this I regret with much love
as I have ranted to gods above
never asking that prayers be heard
only that the burden may be dropped.

In the end the game is up
the clues are found one at a time
like bread crumbs through fairy glen
leading you to the me
have you discovered you're the one
to which I've so long abused
through word of poem on many days
spouting forth "I love you"?

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170120.
kokopelle: Black Cat (Cat - Black)
Poetry is best written when it is inspired by the poet's life. The poem "Three Small Words" is about a statement of felt fact that I cannot say, yet I found a way to express it through lyrical declaration.


Three Small Words

I dare not say those three small words
now almost slipped as I spoke my mind
they'd tip the my world with no recourse
but to be one with the syllables
each one innocent on its own
dire criminals when they are combined
a truth too raw to be let loose
I'll look to them to find the cause.

The first is one designated
the ninth letter of the alphabet
singular expression of being's self
referring to speaker of utterance
what role it has is not my choice
in this pronoun always capital
victim or rouge is optional
each in its time as the words progress.

I'll skip past the second to the last
focus of my sentence now addressed
fully present at this time
though not in person, just in the mind
my focus removes all the world
I'm pretty sure it was there before
now a single point is all I view
as my mind turns to the deepest truth.

Romance is in the middle phrase
this deep affection is edge of fact
though if I look for Cupid's dart
I'll fast admit that adoration was the start
I've fallen oh so far
I hope the bottom will never come
four letters have sealed my fate
a door will open if I merge the thought.

I'll not combine the tender words
It would be easy to tumble forth
express sentiment for another to hear
still I hold my tongue against the urge
I make this choice before I release
no greater thing I'll ever find
more than enough to arrest my heart
this statement held prisoner from both of us.

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170118.
kokopelle: Frank n Furter (Frank-n-Furter)
College Stripper Journals – Pat as Puck (Romancing the Dream)


This journal entry will depart, mostly, from regaling my adventures as a college stripper. I’ll instead speak of the Shakespeare-inspired romance. Specifically, a couple assuming the mantle of drama’s icons. Exposing oneself to the arts will educate the mind, but the baser natures soon assert. While it’s noble to aspire to the heights of the bard, the tumble to humiliation may soon follow.

I was again dating Pat of “The Pats”, a stripping duo made up of Patricia and Patrick. My Pat was the one with blue eyes. The other Pat had brown eyes, like me. My Pat also majored in media, specializing in advertising and promotions. Yeah, that was their tentative connection to drama, one that I appreciated while we worked together. This tendency carried over to our relationship that often mimic’d art. Pat and I went to see a production of “A Midsummer Night's Dream” in the round. The future producer in Pat was readily apparent as they became transfixed by the tale of dreams, love, and marriages. One character particularly struck Pat’s fancy. While I imagine myself the trickster, I was trumped by Pat when they decided that they were an incarnation of Puck, the mischievous fairy also known as Robin Goodfellow. I was OK with this, as it boded well for a bit of play afterward. I should have paid more attention to the play before I made this commitment. Yes, I watched it, but a lot was going on as the four interconnecting plots wound round each other. Little did I know that Pat had locked onto one scene.

Fast forward to the latter part of the day. Pat and I were discussing the end of the drama. A central character had manifested. In the finality of the last scene the stage was given up to the fairies who blessed the house with good fortune, with Puck asking the audience to consider the production a dream if they disliked the play. It was plain that Pat fancied themselves as Puck. I asked who I would be and Pat exclaimed, “Nick Bottoms of course!”. Who was Bottoms? He was one of the laborers who put on a play for the enjoyment of royalty and lovers. Bottoms are also known for temporarily sporting an asses head because of Puck’s intervention. This did not bode well, as Pat was terribly creative in that way.

Before I document my experience as Bottom, with Pat in persona of Puck, I have to share some insights into how I interpreted my alternative lifestyle. Back then as a Southern boy, a resident of Georgia and Alabama, I was a member of an alternative sub-culture as an “adult entertainer”. Even now I can identify with a skill chart I found that stated, “skills in the areas of dance, acting, and sexual performance… showcasing your body to others... working with others on a team”. Mostly true, yes, though I’ll only admit to adequate sexual performance for entertainment value. There are legalities at play here! It was in this spirit of the alternative that I become Bottom and Pat became Puck.

I’ll never know where Pat found the wearable ass head. Pat’s outfit, shades of Peter Pan, came from somewhere back in their outfit closet. I began to think that I wasn’t the first Bottoms in Pat’s life, just as I wasn’t the first “Brown Eyes” they’d coo’d to during our shared passions. Begin the play! A bedroom became the woods as I “slept” in Puck’s company. I was transformed by fairy magic, assuming the countenance of a donkey. While I’m all for role-playing, my sometimes romantic partner had production talents I’ve rarely seen. One thing led to another, with Puck meeting Bottom in the privacy of the forest glades. I’ll leave the rest to imaginations as fervent as Pat’s, if that is possible.

Was it humiliation? I’ll admit that was a bit of trickery on my part. The bard evoked the heights and we invoked depths. Remember, one of my skills as an adult entertainer is “acting”. Pat was worth the thespian efforts, culminating in a closing curtain enjoyed by all. While Pat and I had our difficulties because of our similarities and differences, the enjoyment of the theater was a stimulant to our combined zeal.
kokopelle: Black Cat (cat black)
“When I Wake” is about the pain of unrequited love as the thoughts of the other too fully occupy the sufferer.


When I Wake

When I awake you're still there
standing next to my lonely bed
the same place when I reclined
when sleep was my redoubt
yet now I must leave that land
to face the one that haunts my life
I ask you ghost of romance lost
will you ever leave my mind?

Lopsided would describe our words
your voice is mute because I supply
the sounds that fill the empty void
when you're a phantom in my head
I can feel your skin beneath my hands
fingertips trace the curves below
garments meant to be removed
already gone since they're not real.

Desire has summoned you here today
sprung from a love that's betrayed
when one has fallen and the other not
balance gone between you and me
in fairness the ghost is mine to own
only known to my fevered mind
as false as the passions soiled
on stoney ground my hunger falls.

Now you stand next to my side
daily revenant of misplaced love
a grip around my heart is too strong
I ask you to leave and you're still here
unrequited is the saddest state
another day has passed confused
I'll lay my head now to sleep
please be gone when next I wake.

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170109.
kokopelle: (Cat - Bunny Love)
The poem “Majesty” was written for a competition about romance during the winter.


Majesty

The cold is king beneath the trees
its mighty court hung with snow
winter on the throne of frost
nature bends to sovereign reign
I am it’s subject as is my love
walking close arm in arm
painted trails are our path
reverentially draped in white.

Audience is asked by two
nobility please hear our plea
to warm our hearts at time of hoar
the white and gray surrounding us
we need the comfort of the warmth
far beyond the brace of clothes
seeking heat found in pure bliss
when congress finds the celebrants.

Drape our bodies in cloaks of rime
we’ll find our warmth in the contact
as you bless us now exempt
from Jack’s attention as we fuse
the trumpets echo in forest’s realm
voices share our joy combined
not to stay, this moment’s hold
our majesty was in your court.

2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170107.

April 2020

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