she walks on the ceilingshe walks on the ceiling, she sleeps in the morningshe walks on the ceiling3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
she hates seeing death like the rest of us mourning
she can tell right from wrong, when she can handle it
as we talk over dinner she's glad to admit:
convenience is a wonderfully defining thing
importance is a helpfully relative gene
(if you even inherit it, that is)
mourn the lions, murder your young
six feet over, already done
Poem - Ode to Johnny SmithOde to Johnny SmithPoem - Ode to Johnny Smith2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Poem for Day 244 – 20150902
Welcome to the Twilight Zone,
played out on political stage,
courtesy of the RNC
with help from the right wing pundits.
Spawn of incessant FUD
fear, uncertainty, and doubt,
he now walks upon the earth,
fully ready to build the wall!
Ignore his minions at your risk,
creations of fair and balanced.
They'll rise up in their rage
to carry the white haired one to his place.
Gain the world and lose your soul
the good book warns within.
Heed these words disgruntle ones,
consider what the movies tell us here.
Against a Clinton he may win,
your creature of lesser evils,
just remember where his thumb will be,
like that character played by Martin Sheen.
This time there will be no Johnny Smith,
Christopher Walken to you and me,
to save the world from a fiery fate
in our own version of the Twilight Zone.
© 2015, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
It if weren't for men.If it weren't for menIt if weren't for men.3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
If it weren't for men, we'd have no fear to walk the park or in the clear.
We'd stay out late without a doubt.
We'd get home safe with any route.
If it weren't for men, there'd be fewer wars; women proclaim it is what talking is for.
For we'd have no dictating rulers, no bombers of plagues,
if it weren't for men no one would care about legs;
we could breastfeed in public and forget to shave.
If it weren't for men we would for the most part, behave.
Women compete for a stigma that men created, if it weren't for men, no girl would be hated.
We'd be beautiful all in each others eyes;
no competition of thighs.
If it weren't for men, 'girl stuff' would be boys, and there wouldn't be labels on any the toys.
I'm not saying they should disappear, don't forget about our beautiful sons we couldn't live without. Just ship the grown ones, to an island and then for a while,
we could last without these old men.
If it weren't for these men, there'd be less animal abuse. If it we
RebelionPasan miradas de largoRebelion2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Por los campos color verde
Y bajo el destino amargo
La corrupción no persiste
Resulta un poco molesto
La ausencia de tu dulce alma
No puedo estar orgulloso
Verte en el pozo con calma
Escribo sobre tu pecho
Ganas de volar sentado
Tus ojos están estrechos
¿Aún estás explorando?
Que vayan las ruinas adonde mire el sol
Durante el camino escucha a tu voz
Que vayan las cenizas adonde vayas vos
Así sonarán los ecos de la rebelión