For my fourth National Poetry Month post, another original poem…I wrote this because I have always been fascinated by the idea of The Seven Deadly Sins; ever since I read Dante’s Inferno. I have a (maybe morbid) fascination with lists, and this is one of them! 🙂
A flower blooms,
redder than any rose,
a bomb exploding in vacant rooms,
It’s really a weed that grows.
I knew a man once, who had 100 chests,
each one filled with gold bullion.
Upon reflection, he never felt blessed,
he just wanted one hundred and one.
What once was mercury is now cement,
Determination’s a spinster aunt.
The weather is constantly inclement,
and every sentence wields a “can’t”.
The mirror is shattered but in each piece,
beauty is still beheld.
The admiration is an empty feast
a false hunger that won’t be quelled.
The Muladhara is a broken faucet,
causing a flood, unrestrained.
If a plumber doesn’t come to fix it,
True love will end up sprained.
I am a slayer of dragons,
Green-eyed, sharp-toothed hordes.
I often succeed, but looking at my weapons,
I wish I had your swords.
A Roman orgy is just the thing,
You leave with your toga intact.
Of all bacchanalia you are king,
Too bad it’s just an act.
© Jamy Sweet 2013-04-19