kokopelle | Entries tagged with vision

“The Lens” was inspired by a prompt that asked for the line “the lens through which we view” to be used. On the previous day our 45th decided the six month cessation of the DACA program. To me, this is a decision driven by political appetites with very little, if any, empathy for those most harshly impacted. There are some very evil lens through which people can view the world. Sadly, there is little recognition of this as the lens create their reality.

The Lens

The lens through with we view
is all that we may see
beware the end result
lest a villain stand by your side

please believe the world that’s seen
is much larger than we think
the scope will quickly shrink
with the impact of the mind

this doesn’t mean the others go
as inconvenient as this may be
when desires flow from the heart
outside the realm of empathy

the baby is put out of sight
with the bath water it will go
when only liquid must be expelled
regardless of what there may float

focus reduces the size of the world
walls are meant to keep them out
block the sight of unwashed ones
the stated deviants and criminals

the Devil is held as confidant
even if he is obscured from sight
not because he’s put aside
only because his place is denied.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170906.

Current Mood: contemplative

The impact of an artist (writer, poet, lyricist, painter, potter) can transcend the smallness of the artist. Embracing an artist gives them a larger life. It also enriches our lives in a way that transcends the nuts and bolts of the artist's output. This was wonderfully communicated Elton John's song “Goodbye Norma Jeane”. I love the stanzas “And I would have like to have known you But I was just a kid”. I have to truthfully say that I keep going because I've connected to somebody out there in the big world. I may never know who they are, but through this I'll never fully leave when I've stepped away. My poem / lyrics “I've Stepped Away” explores the relationship between an artist and those who explore their art.

I've Stepped Away
Poem for Day 170 – 20150619

Can't you see I've stepped away,
distance between the you and me?
Would you wonder where I went
if you never saw me again?
I'll give you an important clue:
transparent letters on world's glass.
I'm the one who had left
before you really knew who I was.

Shades of impressions left behind,
stick figures of a twisted mind,
drawn in blood and other fluids
for your beloved amusement.
Find the artist, seek the poet,
slurred reciting of life portrayed.
Drunken scribblings do betray
thoughts better left concealed.

Stepped away, imaginings,
laughter in the hallway,
shadows linger left behind.

Please smile when I do the same,
look away when I express the pain.
This bargain is the devil's trick,
ensuring that I slip away.
Scratch the surface so you'll see
the smile a mask hurting more,
as he laughs at the inside joke
of a smile that never was.

Can't you see I've stepped away,
vanished from the sight of you?
Shame the devil, he's the fool,
thinking this could ever be.
I'll give you an important clue:
letters written on our souls.
I never left when you embraced
the reciting of my life portrayed.

Stepped away, imaginings,
laughter in the hallway,
shadows linger left behind.
Stepped away, yet still here.

© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

Current Mood: contemplative

Art, in its many forms, has the power to break through the illusions and fear of the mind. A rebirth occurs, and the old must fall away to make room for the artist's beckoned creations. The world is seen anew, refreshed by the artist's vision.

Edge of Sanity
Poem for Day 014 - 20150114

Here I am on the edge of sanity,
realm of those lost of soul,
where the threads of humanity
tremble at what lays beyond.

Butterfly, flying free above,
allow me to crawl inside
your empty cocoon, shelter within,
so I can be birthed again.

There I command the arts
to name my soul in terms
of mankind's highest dreams
made real by the artist's goal.

Stroke the painter's brush,
trace the poet's pen,
snap the photographer's pic,
mold the potter's pot.

Take solace in the art,
wrapped around, enveloped so,
borne to god's gentle touch
as reality is bravely resewn.

Embrace sanity within the fantasy,
find the soul on the silk of words,
combine the threads on potter's wheel
to weld a vision of what lays beyond.

One again I am on the edge of sanity,
chrysalis of art's vast domain,
ready to look over the edge
to see the universe look back at me.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

Current Mood: contemplative

Life has a lot of interesting things to see. The poem “Beware the Woogums” is a warning about seeing the entirety of life.

Beware the Woogums
Poem for Day 95 – 20141227

Would you dare to see
worlds that may exist?
What would be the price
if you would persist?
You would soon see things
not visible to the eyes,
but they are just as real
as things viewed on this side.
Some of them are nice,
others are just lost,
a few are rather naughty,
but then there are nasty ones.
These are called the woogums,
avoid them at all costs.
They lurk in shadow
and hang from corners,
visible to the ones that see.
Just be careful if you look
because they can look back too,
and you do not to see them
if they can see you.
So look to the nice and lost,
and pay heed of the naughty.
Seek these out all these if you must,
just stay away from woogums nasty.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.

Current Mood: contemplative

Ok... this is going to be really weird, but I swear it is true. Last night (01/04/13) I was up in Asheville at a techno contra dance. I got finished with the dance, it ran a little late, so I called my lovely wife to let her know I'd get home a little later than expected. It is about an hour and a half drive from Asheville to Pickens. I look at my phone and see that she called five or six times. I immediately called her and found out that something very strange had happened.

She said that a little after 10:00 PM I had shown up at the house. Physically I was still in Asheville. I asked her to promise to call me and tell me to be very careful going home, especially at stop signs. She knew something was off because our little dog Lokie was jumping at me, but falling through my body. I then turned and walked out of the room. She of course was freaked. She made the call, left a message, and then called several times after that.

I did make it home OK. No weird events. I was careful and did not see anything that almost got me. We discussed it when I got home and decided that somehow I had visited. Why? Well, a straight-up hallucination was ruled out because the dog was reacting to me and a couple of the cats even acted like I had shown up. I was not dressed in my usual jacket. The dog did jump up on me but the body was not corporal. While some part of me has spoken to my wife in her dreams, this was the first time that I had shown in such a real looking way.

Very strange... any ideas on what happened here guys? We both believe enough / know enough about psychic type things to believe this, but this is the first time this has happened to us.

Current Mood: thoughtful

Journey to Ixtlan

(are we there yet?)

Entries tagged with vision

Poem - The Lens

Lyrics - I've Stepped Away

Poem - Edge of Sanity

Poem - Beware the Woogums

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