A Man Chained by Vices
He is lost on a long road with no turns.
He doesn't move forward to find,
freedom from his addiction.
He doesn't look back to know
why he is shackled to his vices.
Instead, he sits still wondering when he will be struck by ecstasy again.
Chained to the sidewalk, he waits near the cold road,
helpless like a newborn child that can walk.
He looks up to an unforgiving winter.
Praying salvation wash over him.
A jinx I bore halts now,
Rays peep through black clouds.
Trees blossom after a decade barren,
Smell of Gardenia accompanies the breeze.
To bid a final goodbye,
I turned back, the castle now,
A mile away, almost a speck of dust,
In a vast green painting.
To wander in a world as such,
Upheld virtues once and twice.
Though they blow trumpets proud,
Of vices I'm unaware.
When I’m there I inhabit every corner of the sky
because that’s where my sadness goes to die.
Where all of my darkness turns to light,
the problems, so far, they seem out of sight.
I taste what love could do to me;
what once imprisoned me now has me freed.
There’s peace in my head, I take it to bed
I see other colours, not just grey and red.
Yet, why it is true that I’m not so blue as I’m bathing in the midnight gleam,
the next day, I notice a change, a grim disarray, it’s a slope that I’ve already seen.
My stomach sits empty way past twelve,
self hatred trickles in, quickly fills the shelves
that clutter my mind, line by line,
that merge into one, and stop all of my fun when they block all the light, with all of their might.
I feel myself ache, with each promise I break
when I find myself back with the stars.
But what do you do when the one thing you chase is the king of all of your scars?
Someone once said that we all have our vices
but should these vices be inviting pure crisis
when you look in the mirror should it be the case
that you find your old self to have been erased?
a warm cup of coffee
the best ointment to waking up grumpy
~ we've all got our vices
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
Hear, hear!
I can feel her heart drift
Who knows why she loves me
I hate the smell of Cupid’s grift
She puts her finger to my lips
I taste her brüt silence
Behind bruadaraiche irises
Dionysus watches neon signs shift
The virtues, sacrificed
By muscling vices,
Lay dying
Across the dusty crusts of Earth.
The sky, once admirably azure,
Now bleeds dark streams of gray
Above the sight of flying vultures
Flapping, circling in wait.
I could be long
I could be short
I could be another line
That didn’t have the time
So all I did was wonder why
You could see me and so I’d feel seen
But I would still look the same
You could know me and so I’d be known
And yet I’d still be what I contain
My heart is open
It holds on to hoping
That you could feel how I feel
Until then my lips will still be sealed
Like a smile
Formed in denial
With no choice, but to wait a while
The refrigerator door opens,
the light illuminates the wine.
Still we just can’t seem to comprehend,
why we feel like crap all the time.
Don’t speak before our morning coffee,
just one more menthol cigarette.
Half a dozen donuts for breakfast,
and all the sugar we can get.
But we go to church every Sunday,
though we might nod off cause we’re bored.
So we can tell folks we’re Christians,
and follow the words of our Lord.
We can interpret the Bible,
make it say what we want it to.
Does it say always love your neighbor,
long as they think the same as you.
now that the sun says goodbye
and the bodies begin to fall from the buildings,
we meet with knives in hand
and we shattered some more of the Earth.
motels swallow cravings in pairs,
the corners spew sins
and a cup sanctifies Bacchus.
by the table the teeth chew the cigarettes and the news,
the conversations and our vices,
the words and the cowardly sofa
distance us from who we really are:
the real beasts,
choosing the victims of the moment from the menu.
(but I like to think I'm on a train:
he glides silently across the field.
I calmly leaf through a magazine.
the sun is high in the sky
and far away the gows craze).
VICES
Various types, kinds of
vices are destructive,
very bad. The person’s
views are changed, distorted,
virtues warped, life becomes
vicious cycle and dreams
vanish in the thin air.
5/5/21 Pleiades V Poetry
Kim Merryman
Checked: How Many Syllables
Anger hurts the one whose angry,
More than you can know.
It grows and festers like a sore,
Till love no longer shows.
Hatred soon becomes the norm,
Because of hurts and slights,
Which took their place most often,
Just in our own sight.
Envy of your neighbors,
Envy of your friends,
Jealousy of others,
Where does it all end?
For many reasons why and how,
Our jealousy begins,
No matter what it hurts us all,
For envy is a sin.
Then there's Greed, another,
Which wounds us to the soul.
It keeps you from seeing,
All you already hold;
And Selfishness will rob you,
Of all that you hold dear.
You seek for satisfaction,
But grasp emptiness and fear.
These are just a few things,
For sure there's many more,
That will rule your mind and heart,
And burn you to the core.
Pride does go before a fall.
Deceit will bring you shame;
And lust for power, money, flesh,
Will tarnish your good name.
If you can't hold your head up,
Look your neighbor in the eye,
Your quality of life is gone,
And then your spirit dies.
meagre mortal should scarce think he enjoys
for eerie enjoyment only to unborns coil:
punctured pleasure easing pain
does not sit you in leisure's taunted train
do you think you've won punctured patience?
yet you've begotten sassy sentience!
if a gaunt grape tree bears pear
what's your contention, or boar bear?
trade not lanky love with a lout
make moaning ocean her pool, she'll pout
give what'ver you love to cherish
it's better to be dead than undead, callous clips
you're described by what you do
sun is ne'er a pool, or vanity, voluptuous view.
'20:05:24:09:30
Note: of voluptuous vices.
Rights and wrongs
Too entangled
A war is fine
Kill for peace
Unable to judge
As virtue just died
Love and hatred
Wrongly blend
Hate to love
Or love to hate
Sums up in hate
Self confused.
Lies and truths
Inseparable pals
Lying to live
Or living to lie
life so absurd
As credibility lost
Logic and myth
Rationale rare
Religion reins men
God an excuse
To suppress men
As evils rule minds
I writhe in ambiguity
Though the past would send their best
My will is lazily over-thrown
As I build my own gallows
I hit bedrock--
Yet still, frantically dig with more fervor
My mind is an empire on the brink of collapse
With Regret as my only ally
I threw my aspiration to the wolves
Dreaming is but a subtle luxury:
'My vivid hallucination of deceit'
Pawns have put my king in check
The side of life cries to me
I feverishly run to my grave
My heart is the product of my own dissent
Indeed, my own Intention mocks me
I am a puppet, sewn to these vices
Comfort escapes from me
My anxiety is the sum of a plethora of sins
So, when will I be written out of the story?...
Money has functions four
Exchange, value, deffered costs and store
It adds to more power in life
For more wealth, luxury and pride
Gold and perfume are assured
And our family future is secured
Yet more is aimed with lotto tickets
Put debit and credit cards in pockets
As most gifts are given in cash
And shopping is never a rash
Friends multiply as riches are abounding
But some try wicked dealings
With no thinking, no self-esteem
They can’t do right it seems
Cluttered mind, few do illegal vices
And render life fully febrile
Some of them forget past struggles
As they venture in race for more money
Their family life bungles
Till bad eyesight and bones are creaky
For they feel “others are better than me”
What sin they are through
Why do they not choose virtue
Try to be fair with money and family
And keep themselves up lawfully
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