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A picture is worth a thousand words (Unknown)

A picture shows me at a glance what it takes dozens of pages of a book to expound (Ivan Turgenev)

As the Chinese say, 1001 words is worth more than a picture (John McCarthy)

The right balance of habit and novelty -- that people need for there to be enough of the familiar and yet enough of the new and unexpected to make it "lifeful" (paraphrase Terrance McKenna)
Current Month
May. 21st, 2019 @ 10:13 pm Poem - At Swords' Edge
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “At Swords’ Edge” is about the vocal reactions to abortion heartbeat laws. A societal disagreement about abortion has transformed into life-threatening and disempowering edicts born from religious zeal.

At Swords’ Edge

Consider why we react
when the differences are well known
around for longer than those alive
on the two sides of the line
opinions differ naturally
every vein is there to see
don’t dismay at this fact
instead react at danger's sign

words have been put aside
now the fists will provide
dialogue of the end times
while the demons cackle loud
or perhaps they’re twisted round
weaponized into lies
with all meaning hollowed out
what’s left behind takes only life

all intent has been lost
to disagree with forethought
in that place the hate forms
debate discarded for only harm
when victory begs scorched earth
the meek cannot abide
waiting to be struck down
sacrificed with cold regard

consider the motives that destroy
power is often at their core
without regard for purity
except to rule in solitude
no longer happy to dissent
voice a quarrel without blood
now the conflict has progressed
to win it all at swords’ edge.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190521.
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Cat - Black
May. 20th, 2019 @ 10:48 pm Poem - Hidden Scenes
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “Hidden Scenes” is about adventures behind the veil of sleep.

Hidden Scenes

There's that moment when you're awake
a realization begins to dawn
echoing the sun’s faint beams
something happened inside of dreams
you’d best keep it to yourself
so says the voice that’s not contrite

reflecting on the hidden scenes
beneath the balm of measured sleep
if only the face was reticent
muting journeys beyond the veil
instead betrayal is exclaimed
others asking why the grin

the prohibited draws a smile
taboo is best when indulged
without regard for consequence
when the illicit is made real
sexy time or murder spree
both are forbidden in the now

you'd best keep this to yourself
lest the prudes condemn the snooze
embrace the vacation of the mind
the retreat from tiresome grinds
just realize the fantasies
translate poorly from fair dreams.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190520.
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Shaman - Horse
May. 19th, 2019 @ 11:03 pm Poem - Stating Righteousness
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “Stating Righteousness” is about the pressure of a normative based society on the person who stands outsides the boundaries of expectations.

Stating Righteousness

Society asks its due
this refrain is soon renewed
with every pause to cry inside
along with rush of pleasure lost
retain the smile on the outside
smashed to the face to comply
with orders from those above
dictating bliss from sacred books

cherry-picked to maintain
a power structure that will abase
those who struggle to discern
identities outside of norms
please don’t stray lest the gods
become peeved high above
this is imagined in the minds
of the followers pushing lies

"refrain from genders in your head
or intercourse for pleasure’s sake"
where these may lead is suspect
violations that damn the rest
for the minority of purity
virtue is their only goal
the majority is instead concerned
with control of the unknown

no matter how the bits may fit
the joy derived is soon condemned
safety put in the same place
best to die than sin again
the prescription is relevant
by a world with prejudice
knowing all while acting less
dictations stating righteousness.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190519.
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Shaman - Horse
May. 18th, 2019 @ 01:38 pm Poem - The Game
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “The Game” is about the ongoing battle against misogyny.

The Game

The game was rigged from the start
if times spanned are a start
assuring all will be conned
to play along as if lulled
this was the theory of the top
steadfast in their beliefs
now wondering why the calm is broke
as the tremors are perceived

'why rock the boat?' is their reply
to anguished screams from below
begun as whimpers beneath a gag
now fully voiced in aftermath
a thousand injured in the forefront
with a million close behind
each with a tale of their own
tragedy mounted against the crown

still the kings are sanguine
nothing changed at the end
this desire to stand upright
while the structure begins to shake
countless hands grip the beams
wishing only to topple them
bring the tyrants to their knees
for abuses they'll not admit

excuses tossed as a last defense
declarations of false intent
pretending to know innocence
as blood stains guilty hands
vanquished at long last
their victims take the stage
warning others to not ascend
lest this fate recur again

now the game has been renewed
the small hopes are disabused
as new tyrants build their spires
regardless of what has lapsed
perhaps one day these to will fall
if lessons are kept close to heart
nobody is above the law
when castles topple to the ground.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190518.
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Cat - Black
May. 17th, 2019 @ 11:01 am Poem - Safe Word
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “Safe Word” is about the frustration of an imaginative mind and nobody to play with.

Safe Word

The safe word is assumed
when adults set to play
outside of bounds most pursue
capers rung from solitude
perversion jailed in every pore
the singular in custody

those halls of silence that care not
when libidos seek discharge
all extremes are allowed
without recourse to a crowd
the warped seeds bear no fruit
until there’s a multitude

there’s no doubt of this state
frustration asking for much more
with satisfaction at the wait
for release all celebrate
isolation is soundly damned
by the thoughts that travel round

plumbing depths none shall see
if desires sourced from misery
both pain and pleasure put aside
then imagined by threefold times
each with a safe word kept in reserve
if only these could be heard.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190517.
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Shaman - Horse
May. 16th, 2019 @ 11:01 am Poem - Monster in Their Midst
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “Monster in Their Midst” is about the normative world accommodating the alternative. The assumption is made that all everyone is cut from the same cloth. Reality does not reflect this wish.

Monster in Their Midst

I am the monster in their midst
breathing air like decent men
while insisting I belong
spinning lies while concealed
a miscreant of ill intent
when the standards all conflict

one by one they are betrayed
by the spectrums my life spans
while holding tight to the mask
lest it slips to show the beast
the cataclysm would follow suit
on that day the veil is dropped

a doppelganger now suspect
of malfeasance behind the back
misconduct against the whole
measured by the normative
a betrayal without regard
to the feelings spun from glass

made more fragile by beliefs
filaments strung from self-deceit
once trusted to hold the line
now standing outside of bounds
even though I’ve not moved
the world has shifted on its own.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190516.
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Cat - Black
May. 15th, 2019 @ 10:59 pm Poem - I've Yet to Meet
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “I’ve Yet to Meet” was inspired by a meme that featured a gentleman who had yet to meet a woman who enjoyed sex too.

I’ve Yet to Meet

'I've yet to meet' becomes the chant
for the ones that can't relate
to a world that’s much more
than the walls beyond their fate

tolerance is not the goal
allowance for other views
when the sufferance is nothing more
than a naval circled round

nor is breadth of emotion’s lure
allowed as a tolerance
except to confirm the known
what’s trapped inside the mind

wheels turning round themselves
without a pause to regard
those limits that may extend
beyond empathy now firmly dulled

the outcome becomes a farce
to spectators with sound thoughts
discerning right from wrong
hidden from the shuttered one

a final measure is their chant
this declaration of the unaware
isolation now a platitude
for a life fixed in solitude.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190515.
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Cat - Black
May. 14th, 2019 @ 10:33 pm Poem - Hate is Required
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
The poem “Hate is Required” was inspired by the question of whether dysphoria is required in order for a person to be truly transgender. The answer is no. This does not stop some people for acting as gatekeepers to the trans identity. The resulting poem can also apply to other groups that require the members to either hate themselves or others in order to be considered full members.

Hate is Required

They say hate is required
to define a state of mind
for the self or other ones
only then will purpose shine
nothing less is a fraud
pretending towards the greater goal

set aside by the holy saints
now enforced by strident imps
joyful that righteousness
found a place to lay its head
safe from those without cuts
that deny godliness

the diagnosis will depend
on the bleeding from the wounds
more for the best after all
when injuries are surely bless
where the gate should open wide
the guardians hide the key

as the test falls too short
or exceeds the latitude
that those who pass beyond the walls
are truly wounded and then absolved
the see the hurt in the world
as the measure for the all.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190514.
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Shaman - Horse
May. 13th, 2019 @ 10:35 pm Poem - At the Edge
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “At the Edge” is about pursuing paths in life that deviate from the safe normatives of society.

At the Edge

At the edge of life's triumph
lays the chasm of no return
where only the brave dare tread
or the foolish in their rush
pursuing life’s ardent dreams
beyond the safe embrace
the rails are lost to sight
only darkness lays beyond

the siren calls for one
with promises of the heart
some think them only lies
the truth is in the tunes
songs from angels’ choirs
played to devils’ bands
the combination is the lure
drawing souls to the cure

it’s the passion that decides
where the path will arrive
without regard for the norm
constraints are put aside
if the past is held too tight
relief is possible
when peril is consoled
at the edge most avoid.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190513.
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Shaman - Horse
May. 12th, 2019 @ 09:06 pm Poem - An Awful Thirst
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: ,
The poem “An Awful Thirst” is about a regrettable component of aging: beauty is still easily recognized even while it is properly out of considered reach.

An Awful Thirst

If God created beauty’s breadth
the Devil was deigned the guardian
with one order set in stone
to push reproduction at any cost
large assumptions must be made
if Old Nick will have his way
to hold survival as the goal
even as the game is wrong

the young flowers attract the bees
of all ages and pedigrees
it matters not what will come
wasted efforts and broken hearts
sadly desire does not quench
when potency is decreased
a chasm opens between the two
as age provokes an awful thirst

generations are aligned
to progress their bloodlines
while ancient husks are ignored
no longer needed in the war
Lucifer has no desire
for this ilk in his crusade
except to taunt them as result
for their failure to procreate

beauty is born again
always there to prompt the urge
with God standing by to view
their work progressing with rebuke
from the souls that must retire
act as if the world is no more
while the fiend has his laugh
at the expense of those concerned.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190512.
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Shaman - Horse