Journey to Ixtlan

The poem “Tradition Tossed” is about the suffocation of traditions.


Tradition Tossed

Where chains of rules are applied
to the limbs of the enslaved
suffering becomes a normative
thought to be superlative

desired above all other joys
the best is based on woe
darkness affirmed as light
the gloom becomes delight

this illusion cast by saints
look to the imps that relate
their glee is proof enough
that few dare call the bluff

rattle the manacles to proclaim
none should live as a slave
bound to rules not their own
tradition tossed of as a yoke.

© 2020. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20200224.

The poem “Behind Constraints” was inspired by a meme that stated, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.”


Behind Constraints

The goal of being is a task
assigned by those who know best
from the rules put to page
bringing most to broad dismay

uniqueness is not a goal
exalted by those above
creating boxes with only walls
padded prisons to shackle souls

with bars for windows lest birds fly
escape to the skies far above
still the freedom may be dreamed
from the comfort of velvet chains

embrace the freedom now denied
pass through to the other side
disavow the offered bane
to be the person behind constraints.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190910.

“Fae Wings” was inspired by a series of pictures that had butterfly wings sewn on to the backs of models.


Fae Wings

If I could sew on my wings
a rainbow’s worth of many colors
stolen from the secret vault
put on my back so I could fly
would I bloom from within
in response to this invite
stitched with love of the self
at last coming to the front.

For too long the dungeon held
my truest spark in strong chains
formed to ease other minds
while mine lost a grip on life
with the mask seeming plain
these prison bars blocked my way
four walls made up the cage
the convict trapped within.

Doors drop away when I reveal
imagined self to the world
denial removed from my sphere
origins blossoming at long last
I'll take up the needle and thread
force transformation with these tools
revealing how I long to be
by addition of fae wings.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180216.

An attempted dispassionate look at the motivations of the political right and left reveal people who sincerely believe they are correct. This correctness is grounded in a belief that they have the freedom to be whatever they wish, even if those dreams impinge on the freedoms of others. The poem “Freedom’s Charge” is an exploration of the duality – joy and cruelty - of human freedom.


Freedom’s Charge

At the end of heaven's rope is the pit that waits for all,
one step from the edge of hope with the picks that angels fear.
Freedom is the jealous mistress, vain in its many choices.
Some for right, some for wrong, all for what's best just for one.

Discipline is the heavy burden grasped by those in control.
Tough love flows from them, though the chattel may retort.
Opportunity is not divine, the right to hurt is devil's work
when privilege serves the only path to seeing right and wrong.

Why does latitude cruelly end where another dogma does begin?
Faith is free for all people, so is living outside of creed.
Deliverance holds a hollow note when underpinnings are misused
to deny others their fair share of divine's gifts meant for all.

War is brother to the peace that comes after one is supreme.
Conflict is freedom's gift when hope meets fear in sharp relief.
One held supreme, hard defended, becomes the blood bath for those too weakened.

Emancipation from drudgery comes in ways most diverse.
Some welcome work for wage, others revel in constant play.
One or the other is embraced when days must pass in some way.
Judgement bends the biased eye only informed by their pastime’s lie.

To dream is the greatest crime, source of all that could become.
One man's hope to persevere is another's cold nightmare.
The gifts released by each are disunion's most bitter fruit.
Too much to taste all at once, poisoned by the dreams that hope.

Love and hate are sides to a coin shared by all.
Freedom asks for each to be other for the enemy.
Kiss to lips ask gender’s bless, this some think should be the way.
Kiss to lips is a choice best made by those on the ends, wanting each.

Here at the end of heaven’s rope, the pit looms wide for those who choose
their freedoms picked for themselves while humanity strives for the same.
Love is hate, hate is love. Chains are guards, guards are chains.
Consider this while on the edge, what price does freedom truly charge?

© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160226.