Poem - Mirror of You

Sometimes it is difficult to fully describe the beauty of others. Mere words are not enough. The memory cannot grasp the full image. “Mirror of You” is about this state.


Mirror of You

If I could show you what I see
strength of limb, turn of smile
curves so pleasant to the sight
would you see yourself in these?

mere description is not enough
photos are inadequate
when I attempt to tell the crowd
of the beauty you possess

memory robs the truest form
centered on the focus found
blessings for the mortal soul
when I’m lucky you’re around

no angel sent from heaven high
nor a demon I’d dare entreat
one is from a place I cannot reach
the other would damn my soul

you’re instead the best of all lots
another person of from the earth
perfection where it may exist
flaws where the excitement lives

both in and out, mind and form
emotions pure in their humanity
I’ll share these words as last resort
as a mirror of you to the world.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170122.

Poem - Secret Spun

The poem “Secret Spun” is about the erasure experienced by a portion of our society. Love and companionship are misunderstood and possibly persecuted by both known enemies and probable allies.


Secret Spun

Secret spun to hide in plain sight
erasure insured if I deny
with the opposite it’s OK
or the same if I’m that way
one or other, please decide
says the keepers of purity

with this sweep of reference lost
existence is denied out of hand
“not of ours” is their exclaim
when the scene makes no sense
even though the same is said
of them and theirs by society

this pales beyond the shade
when the spectrum is displayed
here to there and in-between
one or the other please admit
does not compute is the reply
when duality is not the norm

now the labels will apply
one or the other based on facts
never mind what’s in the heart
what attraction holds the eye
statements made are not enough
when relations are the only proof

the vehicle becomes the stamp
of fellow man or sister kin
even though identity
resides in the seat of the soul
known to one, shown to the world
turned away by fear’s embrace

the saddest is when self is cause
erasure made to ease the wounds
thoughts are kept to oneself
words shaped to the environment
in denial there is no peace
when the heart asks for its voice.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170122.