the seven deadly sins

pick one and only one of the seven deadly sins
write a poem about how either you battle or fall pray to that sin,
make it personal[but it doesn't have to be], choose one you feel connected with and is truly a burden in your life. please include the name of the sin in your title so i can be sure which one you are writing about it. you are limited to only one entry for each sin, so up to seven if you really wish. those are the only rules, ask me if you have any questions.
=]

i know i said pick one and only one, and then said you can do up to seven, what i mean, is only one sin per poem. sorry bout that.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indiana_Soldiers'_and_Sailors'_Children's_Home

This was written for a young man who left this quote on Facebook. His eyes haunted me. Because I understood what was behind them. I had spent ten years in the same place. It is not my best by any stretch. But it is personal.

Once a HOME kid, always a HOME kid

Wrath


This is for you -
The boy with eyes, flared
like the windows that glared down
their ever wrathful welcome.
Hell, among us is spelled ISSCH.

We know demon construction
built for function, and durability
don't we child ? Where a simple smile
gets buried in the dark
confines of closets.

Where the lost
and hopefully one day found
is a secret compartment you dare
not reveal the blueprints for.
Where doors lock away escapes
and a dining hall feeds figures
resembling unevolved apes.

This is for you -
The boy who shows no open space
in his closed in face, that marvel
of engineering... When you stop
believing ?

Home was never meant
to mean this shit
that these bricks were founded upon
the smell permeating our beds
and the sound always defecating
what we had left.

This is for you
the boy, whose anger
is sealed behind a wall's fabric
misprinted. We knew these seconds
facing them as they pounded out
the lumps, and smoothed
our cheap ways.

Don't make a sound.
Never turn around
or framework comes tumbling down
upon you. This architecture
of silence rattles, always rumbling.

This is for you -
The boy still stumbling
through the debri...

Some call me "The Hammer"
and Dear God... If I could, I would
tear down this nightmare for you.
I'd tear it apart with my bare hands.
I'd tear it apart for us all.

Exhibitionism (lust)

I'll pretend, that when I dressed this morning
I didn't leave that revealing extra button undone
or wear that bra with extra push, 
for you. 

Of course, I refuse to confess that I forgot 
to wear underwear beneath this dress 
and certainly didn't choose those patent heels
for you. 

I'll pretend these loose curls in my pagan hair
aren't framing my face, accenting the playful
pink lipped smile I seem to have 
for you. 

And I'll pretend that when I order coffee
and sit with crossed legs facing the crowd
that I certainly don't enjoy it
for you. 

I'll pretend that sliding those shiny heels 
against the back of my leg
doesn't feel like a thousand hands caressing my skin,
It's true -

and of course I'll pretend it doesn't turn me on,
that between my legs, exposed to air,
there screams the word 'Action!' beneath the table top
for you. 

And I long to rip free from the confines of this cloth
and lay in the warm sun from the window
across the length of all these tables
for you,

and feel a thousand eyes burning me
as my fingers wander without hesitation
to the instinctual skin that shouts your name,
....I want you

The stored energy of a thousand frustrations
exploding like needles beneath my skin,
as my sinful heart quickens wildly 
thinking of you. 

And I no longer care for inhibitions
and when I shake with primal pride
I scream your name

For you
For you
For you

When you think of pride, don't think of a lion,
or a wolf. Think of a fat man farming pigs,
before smoking his cigar with the whores.

When you think of love, think of a stray pack-dog:
ferocious, tired, cold and hungry.
Any sweetened ideal is not love, it's the Lost Horizon.

When you dream, or yearn for solitude
take a walk and find an eagle; ask it,
how it feels to scream into the blue, the rock
and the sea, and it will answer: being.

Don't search for what you are not, or can not.
Imagine if you could be, what you think you are.
No restraint. It's strange how we remember happiness.
Its exact rush of ecstasy, or flood of exhilaration
as you finally empty your bladder in the snow;
the steam off your piss raising with you,
but not pain. There's no distinct memory for that,

and I wonder, how we hide this pain
or if it's running with the dog, flying with the eagle.

Re: the seven deadly sins
Gluttony(Hope this is ok first timer let me know please)

from to hops to the 'zaa
a little joy tada
for everything that brings pain
a little meal and I'm sane
for what people brought today
its all the same in a way
a little piece to your day
some egg rolls with a tray
a pound of carbs for the everyday man
who thought that no more he could stand
a lil' happyiness and joy that brings
when the abdominal area screams
though the crys of your body scream out
you hope to drown them all out
pass that ketchup please, you say as the fries are almost out
another day and pain is done
you hope that you'll drench your sorrows by eating a ton
these are the words of poor man beaten
in the hopes of peace that food, he pray, will bring him

GOING POSTAL (WRATH)


We all wonder why

Some people lose it

Some rant and rave

Others just shoot it


Just look at our lives

Nasty, brutish and very long

Enough injustices pile up

To undo even the strong


We are not only dangerous

As a military force

Each of us is capable

Of doing damage in 1000s of ways


Bullying, cheating, insulting, beating

Road rage, ignoring, not caring

Raping, snubbing, belittling and taunting

Happen every day to someone in the USA


If you are lucky to be balanced

And can let it run off your back

You are wise to turn a blind eye

Vengeance is so bad for your soul


Children and emotionally abused adults

Have it piled on high, can do nothing

To defend themselves except scream and shout

These are ignored, to the harm of many


One a day a person can take no more

Suicide is the first choice

It does not always work

Homicide is so effective

You hurt them and they kill you


Sticks and stones can break your bones

But WORDS can HURT YOU

Be careful what you say to people

Some people are hand grenades

Sloth
toil toil wrapped in foil
begging for more to be done
from the early morning sun to the late nights done
some never stop and have fun
me with no care, no heart left to spare
in what people tell me should be done
toil toil wrapped in foil
I will wait to heat this one

tommorow always comes like a new beginning
I put off yesterday, today and likely the morrow
I get from bed like a little child
i hope like magic everything will be done
toil toil wrapped in foil
will you please help me finish this one!

I wait all day watching the TV
with everyone around working and heavy
not a care in the world have I till I die
toil toil wrapped in a coil

I really hope somebody to light a match
to this coil and make it to boil
toil toil wrapped in soil I know its been put to test

it always comes up the sun above
I know this day will be my best
toil toil wrapped in foil I hope I do something before I turn to rest

Anger

Kisses deep, gut hauling
hands mauling, shivering
erections on my body
all over, stabbing, prodding
all orifice used, no mercy
Just stabbing and thrusting
my mind crawled
my soul screamed
in anger, enough! enough!
Let me go...silent screams
echo and rebound
in the walls of mind's hell
Groping I grasped
a shiny knife
all nine inches of it
slashed, cut, stabbed
gouged, furrowed, sliced
Standing in the middle of the floor
I watched in silence
as five bodies no longer moved
lazily allow crimson liquid flow
and became just flesh in bloody confusion...

(For Wrath)

Avarice

seated high on the throne of infamy
his smarting embrace envelopes pure desire
from the water you drink to the air you breathe
from the riches of kings to the rags of beggars
your freedom, your mind, your possessions, your obsessions
craving greatness and gall and anything at all
senselessly slaved to the poisoned yearning of his core
he is avarice absolute, he wants the world and more.

Wrath

Torn firbre of being
screaming passion for the hate
no end to the fire
burn all defence that you make

blind is the fury
crushing all in it's wake
Wicked thunderous glory
For those who are born with this trait

No pity for our victims
As they scream we shall laugh
We know nothing of redemption
All we know is our wrath .

PTSD Syndrome (WRATH)

You've been in and out of the war zone
ever since you got out from high school
Now without a dick and forgotten
flashback episodes of the ambush
which lead to losing your manhood
keep coming, bringing to a boil
your last ounce of blood.

Anxiety is your constant companion
survivor guilt knocks at your conscience
as repeated nightmarish hellscape
keeps you from getting a  good night sleep.

You became hypervigilant
and tried to fight back
in your next flasback episode
Non-stop firing of your gun
only subsided when you woke up
terrified and heart-broken
at the sight of your only son,
and beloved beautiful wife
laying motionless and dead.

Your whole being was frozen
and slowly melting
as if heaven and earth
clamp down on your rage
Your tongue became numb
and can't utter any word
Finally your chest exploded
shouting, "OMG, what have I done?"
These words keep reverberating
in your nearly-deranged mind.

Instead of treating you
of post-traumatic stress disorder
they put you in jail--
What a fucked-up system!

Another bad news came--
your brother won't be able to enroll
next semester or maybe never
as educational assistance
was cut due to sequestration
Your blood boils once more,
and escaped from jail
Went straight to Congress,
and unleashed your wrath of hell
It doesn't matter now
if they do nothing at all...

Finally you wake up
in a psychiatric ward
learning from your nurse;
educational assistance was restored
and you just had the worst nightmare.

Gluttony

Obese this? (This human spirit
with excess of grace)
Place golden girth
upon thin, sleek line
of eye, or nose. To speak
in Dante's divine prose
is atoms bulging from within
(indulged games of chance?)

It is a baring happenstance
upon voluptuous soul
as it labors to taste breathes
hoarded in the communal chests
of Sistine bellies pushing
their fleshed constraints
upon my holy, and untainted.

We Feel ... Here... in the gut.

Hunger is baroqued
for the satiation of Heaven's
fattened dining hall
only to eat upon the fairest of skin
making monsters of us all.
But the hedonist need deny no more
and perfect meal is a feast
a thanksgiving of our own individual joy

finally... truly... digested.

Daydream(Lust)

I can't stop staring
From afar I can pick you out
Among anyone in a crowd
Your long black hair
And your piercing blue eyes
It gets my heart rate spiked

The curves of your body
Entertain my eyes alone
I've never touched you
But I can feel how soft your skin is
Under that black dress
I know there is something good
Something divine
Something for me

As I day dream
I can imagine you
touching my chest
The moonlit room our playground
Your soft lips as they peck my neck
As I run my hand through your soft hair

Your bare legs spread on top of me
As you tame my trembling hands
With your kiss
How my eyes close with delight
And my mind begins to take flight

Lusting for your hips to come down on me
Again and again
You penetration pleasure beyond knowledge
So tight and perfect
I can hear your cries of ecstasy
As I thrust harder

Before I know it
I'm back where I was
And you're walking past
As if I'm not there
A day dream indeed
I take the chance
And be stuck in the winds
I suppose you can say
I'm lusting for you

(This is my first truly erotic piece, I hope you enjoy!)

Se7en - Post Mortem. edit

gluttony...all them shyts

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvx3svqVIX1qlsks1o1_400.jpg


Once upon a time… There was The Pitt-man
There was The Spacey-man and The…Free-man
Being out of sorts all three were kinda solemn
However, they were somewhat good sports
Engaged in their philosophical retorts
Looked good; though you know
murder breeds warts
Displaying their smug-like smiles while
questioning curious styles

Bantering about; amongst themselves

Cryptic; while not at all too explicit
Sharing a litany of unreasonable reasons
They, all together entered The Pitt-man’s ear
Human Frailty went in as a Peer
Climbing inside performing an unmasking of fear
The Free-man? His raincoat?
They both were no worse for wear
Free-man suddenly shouted out to re-route for “this newest found tear”


“Don’t come in,
Don’t come in here; California,
tell your people to stay away.
Stay away now, don't…don't come in here.
Whatever you hear, stay away!
John Doe has the upper hand!”


That’s right, John Doe had the upper hand
That “No-man”, that Spacey-man.
Way out they’re in that No-where Land
So sighted the Free-Man; before their Last Stand

Now The Pitt-man, him?
Blatantly prominent was to be his loss
Treacherously tragic; dastardly the cost
Trying to not BLAST 'Em as fast as he can
But no surprise upon Sir Prize…placement of The End

We've seen too much meanness in…too many a scene
Viewers become drunk as they sip from the spleen
I suppose some might if they think that they can
Forego all those sins.. Reigning down upon man.


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