Journey to Ixtlan

The poem “Major Tom Took a Walk” was inspired by David Bowie’s song “Space Oddity”. I get chills when I listen to that song, especially the lines “though I’m past 100,000 miles / I’m feeling very still / and I think my spaceship knows which way to go.”


Major Tom Took a Walk

Major Tom took a walk
stepping past the capsule’s door
far above the blue globe
in pursuit of so much less

those few steps beyond the curb
an empty street except for one
wishing the crowd was less
in the realm of empty space

a void allowing only thoughts
that last step two hundred miles
with many more far above
the journey taken with no return

seeking freedom few admit
beyond the chains of relevance
as the spaceship found its way
circuits empty to earth’s dismay.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190730.

The poem “Imprisonment” was written in response to a prompt, “write me a poem describing the most dreadful prison you can come up with.” I’ve lived in one that I’ll gladly share.


Imprisonment

Walls tall enough to hide the sun
assuming it was there at all
provide the cell I shall escape
if doom will have its way
horrors lurk in each corner
whispering promises none should hear
evoking screams that few heed
echo loudly in response

resounding themes of egress
though not based in hope’s sweet balm
that was lost long ago
when alarms became confused
now the peels of distant bells
lead to outcomes worse than death
as the mirrors forever face
rebounding terror felt within

the outward is replaced
without regard for what may come
ruins without bars
when sanity no longer stands
the corridor is always there
allowing exit from this jail
ideation provides the path
imprisonment is still preferred.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181018.

The poem “Not to Breathe” is about a very dark ideation. I went ahead and wrote it because of three situations. The first is that I was having this thought, period. Secondly, a once dear friend foretold that I would perish because of breathing issues. Lastly, I had a coughing fit the night before I wrote this poem. It actually caused me to black out for an unknown time. I “came to” yelling because I had leg cramps.


Not to Breathe

I have a wish not to breathe
cease the toil of hanging on
allow air to fully escape
the vessels providing oxygen

promoting another minute alive
an excuse to linger here
far beyond the desired time
longed for by my broken will

existing beyond the stolid mask
what's revealed is a farce
an effort pressed to conceal
the hall of screams inside my head

where these corridors are confused
the up you see is my down
all the color has been removed
when dreams of doom are pursued

viewing strangers too soon expired
fantasies spring from envy's roots
why they could find what I seek
beyond the realm of respiring's bliss

that apparent joy to be alive
escapes my grasp as I exhale
biding time as ambitions lurk
no longer wishing breath again.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180629.