Journey to Ixtlan

“Salute’s End” is about the extension of communication so things get done, and then a retreat to darkness in the between.


Salute’s End

I'll give you a quick smile
Morse code posted by grin's flash
be it dot or dash in length
the greeting will say "it's alright"
a flash to show I'm content
happiness is all I contrive
when you look away the pall resumes
the vanishing when a gaze is pressed.

The between where I live
honesty hidden beyond the view
waiting for messages to be sent
to the others that share my world
they return the same in kind
perhaps with intent more sincere
I don’t know, but this will do
a mirror to echo before I retreat.

Darkness descends in the pause
before the next one’s sent outward
assumption made that I’ll be back
letters resuming after delay
absent the pulses clearly viewed
those have purpose I celebrate
partners assume this is the norm
habitual instead by contract’s word.

Is this fair that I presume
the face that half-untrue
though I grin to show my state
giving what I think you want?
‘I'm still here’ said with confidence
I wish I echoed the same within
chatter by code displays the charm
deflated in stillness of salute’s end.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20171006.

Some days I am stuck for a poem idea. The answers come on the wings of my connection with the world. The poem “Canyons of Our Space” was inspired by a by a friend's social posting. Ironically the poem speaks to the frustration of communicating with others.


Canyons of Our Space
Poem for Day 247 – 20150905

Have I been declarative,
purposely demonstrative,
or have I imagined interactions
based on discussions in my mind.
The words should be a lever
upon the fulcrum of our destinies,
if there were something solid
in the canyons of our space.

Filled with wounded pride,
ego trips and unnecessary anger,
these remnants of discussions past,
spawned from behaviors shared.
The gap between you and me,
echo chamber of scorched ground,
begs for hearts to reconsider
in the canyons of our space.

Flawed self-awareness is our curse,
God's last joke before week's end.
The selfish soul asks for solitude
in the face of life's torment.
Misery seeks company
is the void's whispered reply.
Cast your lot and join the rest
in the canyons of our space.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.