Journey to Ixtlan

The poem “The Beast” has been a pending work for a long time. The words finally found their way onto the page.


The Beast

The beast waits deep within
no matter the gender nor the age
demanding a brief release
to feed the hunger felt within
these cravings mock civility
ingrained rules of society
defining who may merge
when the masks are fulfilled

ask the gods why this is
they’ll reply with a grin
it’s not for love or praise
though these part of the play
instead the race must carry on
propagate from two to one
or maybe more on the chance
that nature blesses with the twins

this is rejected by the beast
it cares nothing for the norms
now the breadth of humankind
is seen as fodder for its lust
diversity would satisfy
even though the rules deny
release from wishes deep within
between the legs and in the head

sometimes sated for a time
the eternal in a blink
when the plunge defies depths
touching joy though carnal paths
what seems forever does not last
even though the sheer delights
transcend all measures man beholds
to their dogma in written books

that animal we all behold
wishing nothing but to be fed
within the box or outside
the fiend of passion never sleeps
burn the incense to appease
stimulating to release
once it’s fed the worm will relent
until it stirs to crave again

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20181007.

The poem “Pray to Eros” is about a plea to Eros, the Greek god of attraction. His Roman counterpart was Cupid.


Pray to Eros

I pray to Eros for release
leave the game of mockery
he asks too much in this time
my job is done yet still I strive
quitting is the only way
to return to sanity
divorce myself from the race
rubbing ugly not embraced

once there was a driving need
incite production of more kin
God or Darwin, it matters not
both are blamed for the thirst
this urge incited in the sea
trackless by my current means
with the drink made with salt
I am parched no matter what

these respites I cannot reach
a gulf of decades by design
the more fertile take my place
if only urges could be convinced
a holy man with no desires
the twisted monk in the end
this would be quite enough
if Eros left my lusting heart.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180819.

Extreme moderation, verging on abstinence, leads to a happy void of pleasantness. “Scarcity” explores this line of thought.


Scarcity

Scarcity becomes my shield
feigning the lack of desire
keeping grasp on sanity
lest the fiend will rule the day

gibbering gabs fill my head
you’ll not hear these diatribes
against resolve to restrain
these base cravings in my heart

the bland smile becomes the mask
repetition to set the chains
on the leer that would exclaim
something more beneath the bland

cloven hoofs would be revealed
if shoes were absent from my feet
you’ll not catch me without clogs
desire suppressed by ornaments

these safeguards may save a soul
assuming the root may yet die
don’t assume this is the case
the greatest heights are the same depths

moderation becomes my path
scarcity used to restrain
until I find the ideal time
to celebrate my twisted self.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180407.

“Tarnished Soul” is about one of the seven deadly sins.


Tarnished Soul

The holy counted seven
explaining man’s downfall
stacked as wood on the fire
that none dare to disclose
sly source of the vices
the hydra branching out
a monster all embrace
though one head may be king.

Passions are the tendrils
one found fertile ground
an inclination to evil
so say the sacred books
opposite of the virtue
contentment is its name
love invoked by purity
absent in my case.

Dare I share my shadow’s breadth
have you guessed it yet?
the heart that seeks wicked acts
if only in my mind
with fornication as a goal
intercourse outside of bonds
a harsh name for natural acts
body’s quest to find another one.

The other sins are not absent
we’re only human as molded earth
tainted mortals one and all
each with their own fallen goal
many books may be written
sordid tales upon all men
I’ll add mine to the mix
poetry of the tarnished soul.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170827.

“My Fiend” is a play on words for “my friend”. The poem is about an emotion or feeling that may dominate while hiding its true nature from the deluded victim. To name this thing would be to own it, with full possession the end of times.


My Fiend

Enemies would be a waste of time
my friend in want, not in deed
when I have you by my side
emotion of desire manifest
thirst, craving, yearning need
you are all these and so much less
ashes brought to mouth instead of meat
empty promises to the questing soul.

The Buddhists say that suffering
is your child in all of life
with the Eightfold Path as the way
to remove you from my tapestry
there you’re woven if I allow
homage to morph to something else
with the tipping point camouflaged
in sentiments mocking of true love.

Clinging is where you manifest
attachment to the outside world
passionate desire for fantasy
even if the outcome is detriment
still you bind in ropes of my mind
with heart twisted to compensate
for damnation that few admit
when you take control of circumstance.

Still I ask you to ride along
on the journey of my sorry life
companion instead of enemy
though the latter is your capacity
mounting the wheel with no escape
turning round to grind my life
it’s too easy to walk the path
with no exit except to cry.

In the end I’ll call you out
note the lies you whisper soft
in my ear as limbs desire
for something more than what I have
I’ll not give you a proper name
instead to speak in roundabout
cast allusions to you my fiend
lest you stop me before I escape.

© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170128.

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.

A truly beautiful soul, for whom I think the world, expressed a concern regarding their feeling of emotions. They are one of those souls who are fearless and a little raw. These outward expressions hide the inner quandary of emotional identity. They saw themselves as an extroverted introvert. I can relate in a way, seeing myself as an introverted extrovert. The destination is similar. Sometimes the expressing is confused with the feeling. An apparent lack of expressing is seen as having a lack of feeling. My poem “Emotional Me” is an exploration of the reconciliation between the expression of emotions and the feeling of emotions.

Emotional Me
Poem for Day 120 – 20150501

What is an emotion,
if I have one,
how will I know?
Would I qualify,
be duly justified,
for an emotion,
if I display a smirk
or weep at a show?
Must I cackle with mirth,
cry you a river,
jump with joy,
or punch a jerk?

Can I have an emotion
that is down key,
felt only by me,
with no evidence for you to see?
I'll be content with
a job done well enough.
I'll smile inside
at life's twisted twirks.
I'll be madly in love
in the most unrequited way.

You'll push me to show,
to reveal to you,
my emotional side.
I'll state that I
don't have any to share.
Know that deep down,
away from you my friend,
hidden from myself,
I have a host of emotions
broiling and turning.

Beware my friend,
enemies warned double,
there are things you'd
rather not see.
Some call it rage,
I say it is anger,
stuffed down deep.
Ready to smash,
myself its prime target.
Ready to scream,
at a world divorced from me.

My lust is a tempest capped,
for life, and love,
and things best unsaid.
To seize life,
pardon the manners,
and taste sweetness,
sour at the edges,
bloody in the middle.
So I smile, and defer,
to a world unready
for my deepest desires.

What is an emotion?
May I have a few please?
Look inward, there they are.
I'll show a few, precious minority,
and wonder if I have
them at all.
I'll console myself,
the emotionless portrayal,
and wait for the one
to which I can express
the breadth of emotional me.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved

A friend shared a blog link to an article titled “How Do We Know If We Love Someone?” (http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/05/how-do-we-know-if-we-love-someone-john-kim/).    It is a wonderful question, and the answer is a “yes” with a dash of “42” if the question takes in all aspects of loving people.  I find the question “how do you know when you are in love with someone?” to be much more interesting.  “Love” vs. “In Love”?  Ah!  I’ll share some personal thoughts on the topic of being in love, what it is, and as importantly, what it is NOT.

NOTE… all of the thoughts below spring from my personal flawed human experience.  Your mileage WILL vary!

Being in love is not just about being very attracted to a person.   I am blessed to be in a dance community that is filled with the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.  I am insanely attracted to some of them, and love them dearly because of this, but this does not mean I am in love.   Being in lust is miles away from being in love.  Be sane with this one!

The amount you love somebody is not always an accurate forecaster of being in love.  Hmmm… this is a strange one!  What I’m saying is that the intensity of loving somebody is often not the same as the intensity of being in love.   Having love and being in love are sometimes disconnected.  Yes, you do end up loving the people we are in love with, but it can be an outcome instead of a precursor.

Being in love makes a person do some really strange things.  People step outside of their comfort zones when they are in love.  They travel when they normally wouldn’t.  They communicate when they normally would not.  The reasons for doing these things seems mysterious, and their cause is realized only after you make the frank admission of being in love.

Along the lines of the last point, being in love creates nuanced changes in behavior.  You will do things a little bit more than usual.  You’re not a completely different person, but there will be an enhancement of how you act towards the object of your being in love. 

It is incredibly difficult to “fall out of love”.  REALLY HARD.  For me this is the biggest difference between being in love and being in lust or having a passing attraction.  In fact, barring some horrible experience with the person, you may never fall out of love.  Being in love can be an emotional brand that lingers for a very long time.

Being in love creates emotional interactions that are incredibly powerful.  This power is two-edged.  You will be incredibly blessed and incredibly cursed by the outcomes of being in love.  These swings can hinge on a single word or sentence.
You will think about the person a lot if you are in love with them.  This thinking thing is an early sign of being in love, and one of the most accurate IMO.

You really really want to be with the person.  There is a desire for intimacy, and this intimacy comes in several forms: physical, proximity, emotional, and intellectual.   The longing for intimacy can be constant, like a fog surrounding you.  How do you know when you are here?  Consider person who is just a close friend.  The difference between how you long to be with them, and the person you are in love with, is night and day.

In my experience, learned several times over, being in love sneaks up on you.  It is not a sudden arrow of love.  That’s the being in lust stuff.  Being in love can sneak up on you, and will.  You’re committed to being in love before you know it.  Gads.  It is almost not fair!

Lastly I want to share some tough truths I’ve learned along the way.  Goodies for those who have hung in there!  Firstly, you can be in love with multiple people at the same time.  This is very possible if you have a lingering past “in love” connection as you move into a new one.  We call this normal.  This can set up a person for a complicated life.   Secondly, being in love does not automatically translate into a person being your soul mate.  Sorry, I don’t buy into that.  In fact, I believe that soul mates can be almost anybody in your life.  That’s another topic. 

Being in love is a wonderful and horrible thing.  It is also part of life and is the bedrock of the human relating experience.