Long Seven deadly sins Poems
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Our America is not a world stage,
And we the black oppressed
Are not mere players; rather, our story here
Is a bloody reality—a bloody reality of our rape
From the womb of our Motherland to our daily bloody
Exit murdering from one century to another.
Racist oppressors and their executed actions are
As real as the sun, the moon, Middle Passage waters
And the days and nights—the centuries—of slavery—
The sands of time’s time! And now the seven deadly sins
Have had their prodigal, racism, violently revealed to the whole
Real world! The whole real world that has allowed American
Racism to perpetuate its bubble reputation of violent racist
Oppression and the near extermination of those God created
This land to keep and nourish; and now in today’s staged reality,
There is one who plays well the simultaneous twin parts of washed
Hands Pharaoh and evil horn Satan in the pandemic hell in whose
Air the world and its humanity rave panting echoes to mother life,
I can’t breathe! Yet, in this age of a nation founded on violence,
A Satanic Pharaoh in Shakespearian style attempts to romanticize
Nonviolence in the like manner in which history does violence; but
Teetering to trump timed truth with bible in hand is as if to question
God. So, on a sad day in the world’s reality, stood a mere player as
If in a sad Gratiano scene: Sans reality, sans mentality, sans humanity;
Indeed sans everything—in a stage less world of reality where a fool can
No longer pontificate ranting fear and unmasked demonic ways of being.
Rainbow coloured camouflage
The rainbow whispered “look at me I am a cameo in abused disguise”.
"You are a beautiful mean to an end, a pot of gold awaiting where you
touch the horizon, elusive no doubt but tangible in dreams and in wishes”.
‘Faruq’ true to his name, the one who distinguishes truth from all falsehood,
vowed to ‘Nahla’, or the drink of water, to be with her forever come rain
or shine, when the Bedouins halted for their wedding under thorn’s holy arbor.
“There will be moist earth under the sacred tree”, promised the shaman,
drank potions from ‘Ausaj’, danced, convulsed and exulted as everyone gathered
under the ‘Sdir’ tree with the promise of sustenance and children from heaven.
It was a monkey’s wedding, glistening sun combined with sprinkles of drizzle,
but the rainbow forgot that camels and goats don’t mix with mischief-makers,
imported from modern changes of climate, greed, power and destruction.
“I have been camouflaged, misconstrued, disenfranchised, seven beautiful colours exuding disaster”. “No, you have your rightful place under the skies, warmongering nations ignore you, they exploit the fruits of the desert, relish oil of demise”.
Ear-piercing storms erupted and lightening ensued with full thunderous wrath and
the tree of life got splintered and divided, ancient reality was crushed under modern delusion.
‘Faruq’ and ‘Nahla’ could not believe that their short marriage was over, they joined their ancestors, struck by the rainbow, who had masked the power of drowning waters, looked helplessly on.
Meanwhile tanks, constructed and draped in seven deadly sins, kept their tracks
in the quick sand of glory, deceit and rape of the planet, full,evil steam ahead.
“I feel so guilty”, uttered the rainbow, “I could not display my true colours”, but the wind and the Gods replied “Not your fault, do not take the blame, when gold turns to tar”.
I met them once — in Silence —
They whispered — all at once —
A Choir — of Temptations —
With Souls — in Abundance —
Pride — wore a Crown of Nothing —
And I gazed — upon the Air —
I thought — he owned the Heaven —
That never noticed — there —
Envy — leaned on Lilies —
And counted — greener Blades —
His Eyes — were two small Thieves —
That robbed the Light — he made —
Wrath — was but a Furnace —
Fed — by his own Breath —
He thought — he burned the Others —
But only warmed — his Death —
Sloth — reclined in Petals —
And dreamed — he’d crossed the Mile —
But still — his Foot lay waiting —
Upon the starting — Style —
Greed — built a golden Prison —
And locked himself — inside —
The Key — was made of Hunger —
That would never be denied —
Gluttony — kissed the Chalice —
Till even Taste — grew numb —
His Feast — became his Coffin —
His Mouth — his Kingdom — come —
And Lust — in Scarlet Garden —
Unclothed — the Soul — of Skin —
he promised Love’s Forever —
But left — the Grave — within —
I left them — by the Twilight —
Their Shadows — in the Grain —
And whispered — “We are kindred —
In Virtue — and in Pain.” —
World knows the seven deadly sins-
lust,gluttony,greed,sloth,wrath,envy,pride.
A woman basic need to understood and being
heard is more deadly a sin
which burn the mind and heart to ashes.
Even the pious man and lay man
has no difference when ridiculing
woman for her pain and emotions.
Has to smile beautifully and talk sweetly
though burning alive inside and out.
He is smart and great as he silenced
the mind and heart of a woman
through his deeds of love and care.
Dare she squeals,will labelled as
stubborn and arrogant.
She should wallow and cry in agony
and not let out and taunted as
always ruminating the past ,as it hurts the pride
and ego of a man,as it makes him
to see his own truth and hypocrisy.
Man has thousands of ways to escape
but her,none ,if she manages ,will
called a tough crack and a stone.
Woman is hard to understand says
the man,but did he ever care to listen
to her ..nahhh
lady ,thou speak,will be berated
by people whose flaws are projected
and imprinted on thou.
Shhhhhhhh....thy lips are kissed
by someone’s ‘I’ and throttled
by wind of promises.
This world is a grayeyard of woman’s
emotions ,desires,intellect etc and
sinner is thou,woman,
for letting thy mind and heart
waver in the wilderness and winds
of others wrong perceptions and
projections of one’s flaws.
So is it Right to be heard or
want to be heard..?
Say it Please....
Written on:12-07-2025
PS: This poem is not to hurt anyone,I apologise ,if it does.
This poem is majorly for everyone who wish to be heard and resonate wiht,though this is from
woman’s perspective.
Kindly share your thoughts and opinions.
"BLACK CAT"
SILENCE
prowls on soft paws
with sharp claws
Cutting up the
Middle Road
Dark shadow moves
SILIENCE
In absentia
Empty Absynthe
Puncture wounds
Cold wind blows
Over tracks
Skids softly
like warm
gants de Suède
on
Poets’ Row
Rat goes
Rat goes
Red scream
scarlet ribbons
LIFE
flows
Le Mort
blushes colour
a trite persuade
different streets
different gutters
Torn canvas sheets
contained between
prison bar margins
Drafts on the floor
crumpled
Blue fountain
Heart bursting
Love and Hate
Grows
Save Our Souls
Save Our Souls
Sins
Sisters of Mercy
and
Salvation Army Sargents'
Tambourines
Communion
Nibs lying next to
Garbage Bin
Finally Ash Felt
Rain on her
Bitumen face
Black Minx
Fur Pelt
Unfurls lazy stretch
Glass eyed
Minx
Back Alley Dreaming
Bad Luck
Bad Luck
Rolling loaded dice
blood boiling steaming
Brush strokes
Like glyph a glitch
Like glyph a glitch
Familiar mirror
Walks through Witch
Yesterday
Screams
Like glyph a glitch
Repeat curse
Repeat curse
Black Cat purring
Never lose
Hold tight
Pearls in Purse
7 Devils Dreaming
Sleepwalking
Graffiti Warning
Black Cat
Witch
Glebe
Last Stop Station
Rehearse a
Hearse
LIFE
Glyph a glitch
Reverse
(Lovejoy-Burton/May 2018)
1. Hanged Man
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/hanged-man/
2. Death
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/death/
3. Temperence
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/temperance/
4a. Glyph
noun
a pictograph or hieroglyph.
a sculptured figure or relief carving.
Architecture. an ornamental channel or groove
4b. Glyph
https://www.thoughtco.com/what-is-a-glyph-2086584
5. "Black Cat"/Ladytron (Translation)
http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858716200/
6. Silience
http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/49792543182/silience
7. Seven Devils
- Is a Solitaire card game.
- Seven Deadly Sins
- The Seven Devils of Mary Magdeline
- Florence and the Machine, Seven Devils
8. La Morte, Le Mort, La Mort
Le mort = dead man = un mort, a dead man
La morte (with the e on the end) = dead woman, une morte = a dead woman
La mort (no 'e' on the end) - death; as in the concept of death
You can give up that nasty habit if you try.
Just think of all the things your money will buy.
Each one of those houses is a den of debauchery.
They are clip joints just out to get your money.
When you dump at the tables or feed the machines,
the end result is usually some egregious scenes.
If you win, consider it a loan at the time.
You will return to pay back every nickel and dime.
Being broke is where most adventures will lead.
The house takes advantage of the weakness called greed.
Greed is the deadliest of the seven deadly sins.
In the long run, only the house is the one who wins.
April 7—Figure something out in a poem
Why Trump?
For the last six years
I have been trying
To figure out
Why 40 percent
Of my fellow Americans
Still support Trump.
Still believe he was
The greatest President ever.
I just don’t understand it
Trump is a racist, misogynist
Sexual predator rapist, narcissistic
Fraudster, con artist, grifter.
Who has lost billions
Of dollars over the years
Never pay his contractors
Or his lawyers.
Has been involved
In over 3,000 lawsuits
And lost most of them.
Who lied over 30,000 times
When he was President
And at least 10,000 times
Since then.
Including the big lie
That he won the last election
Both in the popular vote
And in the Electoral College vote.
Over 90 courts concluded
That there was not there there
And that he lost the election.
There was no widespread fraud
The election was fair and square
And he lost.
Trump is the poster child
For the seven deadly sins
And is not a Christian
Far from it.
Yet to his deluded followers
God anoints him
To destroy the enemies
Of the Christian faith.
Now a court has declared
That he defrauded the State
Of New York
To the tune of 450 million dollars.
He stole top-secret documents
Denied he had them
Refused to give them back
And openly talked about them.
With people not cleared
For secret and top-secret
Documents.
He plotted to overturn
The election
And stay in power.
He openly promises
He will be a dictator
And round up millions
Of illegals, and political dissidents
When he is re-elected,
Why he is polling at 40 percent
And not 4 percent
Is beyond me.
The best I can conclude
Is he appeals to those who believe
The whole system is corrupt.
And is rigged against
Lower-middle-class
Christian white Americans.
They feel that they have been
Royalty screwed over by
The masters of the universe.
Who see workers
As nothing but
Disposable labor units
Of production.
And they are right
And Trump for his faults
Speaks to the forgotten men
And women in fly-over country,
That is why he is still popular
And could be re-elected
And if he is re-elected
Can American Christian fascism
Be coming?
MARY MAGDALENE ON SILENT SCREEN
Seven deadly sins, like flames, leap from her flesh,
clinging to locks of hair, to a prostitute’s hem.
The unsavory shadows unwilling to depart.
Each sin screams out its name, reminding her
of they’re quintessence, with cloven tongues.
Only the Christ can fell her spirit chains.
They gently fall away, with a mighty wave.
She’s clothed in light and freed from wrath.
Like Eden’s Eve, she wraps herself in purity.
More than a man has touched her life, her soul.
Reverently she kisses agape’s hem, as
a full-fledged follower, her temple swept clean.
3/26/2018
Oh, how they do shine
How they move and flash about
Bloating of prestige
Garments and graces
Conveniences and comforts
Rides that roll and soar
So, these things desired
The grand baubles you long for
Sparkling in their mounts
Catching bright, the eye
Speaking lies to your status
And bleeding pockets ...
Do they bloom in hearts?
Is anyone the better
For their gleam and glow?
Is life extended?
Do they fill the weary soul
Or grant forgiveness?
Please, know this one truth:
All this wondrous elegance
Each prized possession
Is but a bright farce
And will rust in the cold rain
For the sake of LOVE ...
Kindness, joy, passion
Grace, charity and friendship
Faith, hope ... life itself
Are the TRUE treasures
Hold them, precious, to your heart
And count yourself blessed
Let go the wanting
And embrace all you have now
All your heart ... can hold.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "One Of The Seven Deadly Sins" Poetry Contest
Edward Ibeh, Judge & Sponsor.
* Syllables counted at HowManySyllables.com
The old Chokra chokes
on adult 'boy's' servitude
should have no worries
tends Tim's garden exchanges
labour for money
blessed in helpless poverty
judge not Tim's envy
he understands no better
Reincarnation
Cast out Karma spells of Peace
desire a master
Nirvana escapes him but
wants to tend flowers
Tim never walked in Chokra's
footwear how could he
thorns in his mind have no shame
slaves have no shoes and no name
28th October
Syllables checked with howmanysyllables.com
Choka written for Edward Ibeh's contest:
'One Of The Seven Deadly Sins'
Chokra is derogatory (in South Asia) for a boy, especially one employed as a
servant. Adults as well are called boy in lieu of their name.