Journey to Ixtlan

Poem - Ring is Sought

2019-06-29T23:45:17Z

The poem “Ring is Sought” is about the shared desire to connect with others.

Ring is Sought

The ring is sought above all else
this seems the goal for our lot
clouding minds in the quest
for something fresh beyond the self
there’s no commitment except to now
the moment sought and then pursued

to the ends some may taunt
but even they would do the same
connection held as the goal
flesh pressed in response
more than attraction is in play
when the urge becomes a need

sewn throughout by the Lord
or put by nature to grow the herd
neither is of consequence
when base natures take the stage
the urge to merge tops the list
damn the final aftermath

perhaps the deities will relent
when they know the bill's been paid
the luster fades when attained
once to lead to many more
this hunger for the band
to find another once again.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190629.

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Poem - Strung From Trees

2018-01-05T14:22:07Z

“Strung From Trees” was inspired by the silent ribbons and ropes found in the Japanese forest of Aokigahara. I find the words to be a whisper of what I’d like to say, much like the ragged remnants of cord found under forest canopies.

Strung From Trees

Strung from trees of the mind
into hearts beyond the fringe
where the darkness is too thick
to see beyond the ring of self
there another will be found
holding space in the gloom
signpost of the journey's path
sharing light of their own
these will shine like the sun
echo of the bond they hold
entrusted with the hope to keep
against the press of misery

these I see from afar
as I walk throughout the world
there a cord has been found
dread fills my thoughts as I look round
what awaits at each end
a happy story or rueful stare?
there is one way to reveal
walk until the stop comes near
the malady may appear
if the link is held by one
an absence on the other side
silence inviting mournful notes

ask for joy, prepare for less
the cords promise nothing more
links between here and there
without assurance of comfort's hand
bodies absent tell half the tale
when they're removed to be interned
look to the tears that remain
or sad resignment in the face
strung from trees of the mind
a forest filled with many lines
this poem will add another one
connection asked for all to find.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180105.

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Poem - Beautiful Sadness

2017-02-08T21:48:08Z

The poem “Beautiful Sadness” was inspired by a meme in which Butters, of South Park fame, said

“I'm sad. But at the same time I'm really happy that something can make me feel that sad. It's like, it makes me feel alive. You know? It makes me feel human. The only way I can feel this sad now, is if I felt something really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good. So I guess what I'm feeling is like a beautiful sadness.”

I can relate to this. I take a lot of joy from dancing. It brings me a sanity borne from connecting to people, but at the same time, there is incredible sadness that that’s all I can do. Part of me would like to forego this stimulation, but this would also remove one of the two reasons I want to live, placing my life in that much more of a dire state. I tried to share my sentiments in the inspired poem.

Beautiful Sadness

Beautiful sadness, glittery things
here for a moment and then moved away
I know I'm alive during that time
returning to wish for more of the same
in that space the shine was humanity
focus of all that came the years before
vanishing with the pain that I'll now explain
on the wings of pain sought again and again.

gorgeous misery, purely breathtaking
sadly my lungs have no air to give
to the spectacle that blesses my vision
to the beauty that exceeds my conviction
I'm committed to the world at large
contracts penned, so many agreements signed
though I wish I could spare exhalation
to say that I adore the world I'd pursue

splendid grief, ecstatic distraction
minutes are captured with the intent of years
collected to last long generations
when I may again indulge inhibitions
all too short for the abyss of my soul
crevasse asking for a mountain to be dropped
exaggeration may be in these words
yet still I grasp what I can now collect

magnificent grief, curves and lines
slyly purloined by this larcenist
with the arms that wrap to caress the world
when the universe shrinks to only myself
it's small wonder that flesh is the narcotic
tether to pull when the skin hungers hard
the need is filled by the temporary
fitted where my body presses for a time

divine despair, you've allowed my mind to roam
from the smallest spark to fiery congress
from looks to thoughts to touch and then beyond
the world has shown what I may never have
now my spirit seeks a place to disguise
the ache of tease, the wound of fancy
asking me to admit the price of living
beautiful sadness, again and again.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170208.

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Poem - Could Love Me

2016-10-05T13:35:56Z

The poem “Could Love Me” is about the struggle that the depressed face and the healing touch of those who seek to bridge to the suffering soul.

Could Love Me

If you could love me
would I know the truth
would I get a note
to span this gap in between?
perhaps I know you in passing
one of many in my world
invisible in my meager sight
phantoms in my misery.

Silence is my constant mate
escort of a thousands slights
so loud as to drown the world
in the vacuum of nothingness
in this swirl of outside hush
the inside screams you do not hear
echo within to fill my ears.

The lack of touch is too much
heavy hand where none persists
pressing down like the limb
missing yet still needing feel
hunger prompts the memories
of the meals within past arms
sup’d desire spun to feed
the beast that lives inside of me.

If you could love me I should know
shared to break the walls of my mind
feel the touch from an outside world
hear the voice of someone else
while the pain may still remain
torment me as I find my way
I’ll embrace my place in the world
no longer phantom to the ones that care.

2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161005.

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Poem - Our God

2016-07-02T03:30:52Z

The social dance scene has a diverse group of participants. Many are devout in there beliefs. This is evident by observing the posting on their social accounts. The poem “Our God” is about the unity found in dance by people from diverse, but devout, spiritual paths.

Our God

Dance is the denominator
for the divine loosely shared
when feet touch the earth
and angels look from high.

Hearts find their measure
in each other's arms
as peace finds it place
in the conquered divide.

The unlike are well met
as walls fall away
a shared habitation
by those who dwell within.

The thread finds its mark
winding through all of those
who seek to connect
when division is thrown.

In place of strong difference
is a stronger good will
seen in partner's eyes
as the soul is revealed.

Love is the message
respect shares the words
the ecstatic finds safe harbor
while the dance shows our God.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160701.

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Poem - Clouds Above

2016-06-24T03:04:51Z

A Tumblr posting inspired me to write “Clouds Above”... that and a few of the gazes I've encountered during my years of dancing.

Clouds Above

In the eyes I lost myself
unexpected twist of fate
perhaps blue or maybe brown
this depth of soul not yet revealed.

I know there is another self
inside the windows reflecting back
the gulf I wonder if I can breach
depths to plumb in our good time.

I soar as only birds may dare
when basking in the sun's delights
your eyes are my anchor point
in the clouds above the earth.

From these heights I wonder if
sight is true or illusion's gift
this narrative your gaze imparts
chapters written on my heart.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160623.

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Poem - Four Letter Words

2016-05-29T20:22:43Z

A friend asked what the difference between love and lust was. I pondered this, realizing that they share many aspects for me. They can both come on with varying speeds and then remain for indeterminate times. The outcome, connection, is shared by both. Either can be one-side, not reciprocated by circumstance or choice. The two are not mutually exclusive, but they can exist without the other. There are upsides and downsides to each. Another response to this question gave me the answer: lust is predicated on an intimate connection of some sort. Intimate meaning one of close proximity, be that proximity inches away or an internet in distance.

This answer is not the only one, but it is how I am wired. I have this relationship with beauty and desire. This drives my poetic output. I have love come over me, completely separate from the swirling vortex of lust. I honor both, though I welcome love with wariness, knowing that I love far fewer people that I lust for, and the love connections ask for so much more. The poem “Four Letter Words” speaks to the puzzle of love and lust, and how they are incredibly similar before the difference appears.

Four Letter Words

Four letter words beginning with L
each with the pluses and so many ills.
I'll share what I know by experience hard gained
from a lifetime well met with plenty of each.

Each may come quickly or creep as a thief
no matter the method the end is the same.
The timing is suspect, no schedule to meet
either quick like a bunny or slow like a snail.

The duration is varied not tied to the method
because each has the chance of lasting a lifetime.
A decade like yesterday, the vision is blurred
when emotions submit as thralls of the Ls.

Connections are made each one has its hooks
that link the unwary and stir the snared breath.
To repay the attention is never the promise
of either the ways of attention passed to the world.

There is one small difference the crux of the variance
between the L of the heart and the L of the loins.
The latter has needs intimacy is the must
no matter the bond no matter the miles.

I lust for the world, slave to beauty I see
I fall to my knees in prayer to Potho's call.
Yet beyond the intimate, the fae ties of this life
are Demeter's chains holding me to honesty.

Four letter words beginning with L
each with power inherent each asks its due.
The numbers may have the former
the latter I hold for the fewer you.

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160529.

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Poem - One of These Days

2015-08-26T17:11:54Z

The song “One of These Days” is about the almost connections made with our fellow human beings. There is a desire for more than the tenuous societal handholds. The lyrics end on a gray note, but this is only because it is up to us to create one of these days.

One of These Days
Poem for Day 238 – 20150826

One of these days
we'll meet in person.
The separation will be over,
too long connected yet apart.
To know such much about you
and never stood in proximity
is something to remedy
by personal contact.

One of these days
we'll talk about life.
Consider the world of our views,
expressed in acceptance of
of separate realities.
A vision of God is shared
when walls are struck down with love
in the spirit of exploration.

One of these days,
one of these years,
one of these lifetimes,
we'll be more than now,
more than we are apart.

One of these days
we'll dance together.
Apart we moved on the floor,
trajectories separate times before,
Each masterful in our moves,
we had never danced as one.
This tragedy will be corrected
when at last we join by tune's hand.

One of these days
we'll reveal ourselves.
The masque ends when we drop our guard,
concealment no longer our path
when two souls seek to be one.
We are perfect in imperfection,
this realized when humanity
is seen as the base reality.

One of these days,
one of these years,
one of these lifetimes,
we'll be more than now,
more than we are apart.
One of these days,
one of these days,
these lonely days.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

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Poem - Touched

2015-03-17T02:04:45Z

Artistic creation is a terribly personal affair. Sometimes it is private. Other times it is shared with the larger world. I go with the latter, and in these efforts, I am tickled to no end when my work is acknowledged by other poets. Are they more special than other readers? No, of course not. Instead they are peers of a sort, and because of this, their recognition is a buoy to my daily pursuit of poetry. The poem “Touched” is dedicated to all creative types that lift the spirits of their comrades in art.

Touched
Poem for Day 075 – 20150316

Joy and darkness,
dance and death,
these are my themes
which I must express.
Seen and acknowledged,
showing interest by act,
visitors are welcome
to my expression of life.

Your interests amaze me,
diverse as they are,
to be counted amongst them
is a treat to my heart.
Our styles may differ,
brevity or verbose contrasted,
classic construction or freehand,
this matters not as paths collide.

Across the digital divide,
another soul of similar mind,
reaching out to confirm my art
as striking a similar cord.
Your attention honors me,
but something is more important,
that I’ve reached beyond myself
and touched another one.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved

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Poem - Dance of the Foolish Masters

2015-01-16T02:59:53Z

Dancing, especially social dancing, can be a challenging experience. Be you the asker or the askee, the act of talking to a stranger and then getting on the dance floor with them, can be an incredible hurdle. So much seems to be at stake. I have to let everyone in on a secret. The purpose of dancing is not to look the best or get dances with the most glamorous people. The purpose of dancing is to connect, and in the end, just to get a smile from another person as you do something incredibly special with them.

Dance of the Foolish Masters
Bonus Poem for Day 015 – 20150115

How shall I dance tonight,
with so much is at stake?
I may look the fool,
or dance like a fish.
Reputations made,
disgrace proclaimed,
tonight I could dance,
if I were only brave.

Look to the floor,
the foolish are there,
along with the masters.
How to tell these apart?
The former have no fear,
the latter this too!
Perhaps they are the same,
foolish masters lead the way!

Would you dance with me?
Lead me to the floor.
Only we will be here,
this is enough for me.
Throw caution to the wind,
and just return my smile.
I'll dance for you,
and you can dance for me.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

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Peace, Knowledge and Comprehension

2014-03-22T02:38:30Z

A friend asked about finding Peace. I looked through my past blogs and found a rather long one about seeking what others values. It cut the original blog entry down in size. The blog entry struck me as a statement about peace because seeking value in the uncomfortable and foreign is not a sure recipe for peace, but it does truly connects us with the world in a way that trumps temporary peace..

I found some real quotation gems in the thirty-fifth chapter of the latest Harry Potter book. The wise Dumbledore said:

"And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Voldermort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend."

Dumbledore's quote is an indictment of Voldermort and a challenge to all. The challenge is great with enormous pitfalls present. Some believe that casting value on things outside of their immediate experience will cheapen those things that already are held to be valuable. This fear seems to have at least two sources. The first is dilution, that value placed amongst multiple places will less the value on the places originally thought to have value. There is a challenge here. The integrity and soul of an individual must be large enough to reach out to more and not dilute the things they hold to be valuable. The other fear is that seeing other things to have value will cast the original things of value in a place of disrepute or wrongness. This is a valid fear if a person cannot accept the paradoxes of life, that things can have the same truth and still be at odds with each other. Especially rigid people will embrace both fears. These dogmatic people, seeing great value in only the things they hold dear and nothing else, will have little ability to comprehend others who differ even slightly.

The lack of comprehension is addressed by seeing value in those things that defy comprehension. Fears of failure must be overcome as values are placed on things outside of comfortable boundaries. Larger truths, sometimes masquerading as complex paradoxes, are available to those who see the worth of contrary or alien states. The valuing of these states removes the gulfs. A respect borne of acknowledging a different value is always possible. The highest goal is a binding of people when value of others leads to a full comprehension of who they are and what they believe in. The knowledge waiting there is incredible, better than any insular form of knowledge or magic. Dumbledore speaks to this as he concludes,

"Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldermort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped."

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