I think it's time to do an update
Of The Seven Deadly Sins
Most people do not know them all
Sit down and let's begin
I'm not really religious
But, I think they're a bit stale
So, I think I'll spruce them up a bit
In this my sinly tale
Gluttony, a sin of course
I think it should be changed
With an asterick, obesity
There, that's one sin rearranged
With dinner plates much larger now
And fast food all around
I don't think God prepared the world
For the obese people we've found
Hyper-obese children
Fed from chemically laden food
I think that gluttony can be renamed
To Obesity....don't you?
Greed...there's not much to say
Unless you're not in the one per cent
You know, the ones who have the cash
While we're still making rent
Unless things are all equal
This will never go away
Someone always wants all that you've got
There's not much more for me to say
Envy....not a really bad one
To me, it should not be on the list
Although some might seem envious
Of that bracelet on your wrist
I mean, really, how is envy
Something that should condemn your soul to hell
I mean I like my friends TV
But, I know he likes mine as well
Condemning both our mortal souls
For being envious of our tellies
That just does not hold water
Exactly like my wellies
Lust...I know, a good one
It gets confused a lot with love
To me the only difference is
With lust, you wear a glove
Lust and envy...make them one
A piggyback sin, if you will
It's like combining two commandments
Thinking evil thoughts before you ****
I lust for things I can not have
And for some, that would do me in
But, I can't see how lusting for a big tv
Can be a mortal sin
I think that  additions should be made
now, while I'm here writing
I think that reality tv is one
To be a sin it is inviting
Hoarding, that should make the list
I mean, most of them are lazy
I think how one defines celebrity
Has gotten rather hazy
Now, sloth...can be removed I think,
Or at the least, re-defined
Today, they're abusers of the system
It's the avoidance of work they say
So, here's what's in my mind
One who's known as sloth like
Avoids spiritual work as well
I say, cut them off of welfare
It's not worth sending them to hell
They'd be getting a free trip there
Again, avoiding doing stuff
Just cut their payments off and then
They'll work and quit their guff
Anger, keep it on the list
Because, it's a good one, I admit
Of all the ones upon the list
I think Anger's a good fit
Finally, we get to Pride
And I'm confused
I think the sin is blurry
And the word is overused
Pride of Man, it is a sin
but, aren't you proud of your young child?
when they go and score a winning goal
This as a sin, I think is wild
I am proud of my home country
And I hope that you are too
But, pride itself, it's not a sin
Aren't you proud of what you do?
Gay people have their pride parade
They are proud of who they are
But, pride itself....come on now...let's
Draw the line, not go so far
Combine the list of deadly sins
With commandments, make an app
Change punishments around a bit
Instead of limbo, give a slap
I think that things are sinful
And I know you won't agree
But, this is how I look at things
It's just me being me

She is equipped with sensitive *******
and those other secret places
that ladies give out as prizes
to deserving guys as long as
they adopt the right disguises
of gods, gurus, intellectual giants,
goats, children, father figures, macho brutes,
sugar-daddies, supermen, seminal vessels,
house-repairers, jar openers, jocks, hate objects,
handy shoulders to cry on, emotional support systems,
sensitive, intuitive, yet strong silent types
who can also pay the bills,
tall dark and handsome total strangers,
toy boys, clowns, jugglers, jokers, millionaires,
wood choppers, ******* removers,
bottomless reservoirs of reassurance
or just plain spunky studs when the moon is right.
In fact, anything but woffly wimps.
Oh God, no.  Anything but woffly wimps.
Yes, but what about stoic, steadfast SNAGS,
you know, the Sensitive New Age Guys
who won’t face-shift for a ****?
Yes, well, let's try to sum all this up here right now.
I think that the woman is dripping
with a brimming reservoir
of luscious and sensitive resources on tap for  
the man who can figure out her cosmic kaleidoscope  
of swirling dreams and desires,
which is definitely not to say she can’t be totally independent.
Although please don't be confused.
Friendly boy-next-door types who are handsome,
aren't too hairy, who like to laugh, who have a boyish braggadocio,
who are students, who appear to be intellectuals,
who are not nerds,
and who can **** it in the kitchen, who  can be oh, so cool,
who can convince a maiden that she is in distress,
and is in need of rescuing, while he has
a swaggering hard-on will do, too.
Oooh. You devil.
And if you think this poem is misogynist, misanthropic or myopic,
well, I’ve been around and by now, well,
I really should be panoptic
because I’ve seen all the fads,
and really, it’s sadly too bad
about those poor old
earnest SNAGS.
But you know what?
I don't think I understand anything, because
I'm really a victim of worshiping women.
I'm bedazzled and as blind as the next man, and
yes,
I'm just happy whenever I'm with them.

The wind sighed
Forget.
Wet whistled lips
as teeth scrape along
to force a suppressed whisper
fabricated into a command
pleading with an element strong.
As the wind's breath
                                       takes and rips
two syllables before her
with no lines left to play the part.
                                   Empty.                                                    she stands there
threads of herself whirling
like hair in her face.
As the draft increases
and catches her on broad wings,
through the clouds
                                              to reach the sun
and fall to earth                                                            ­                                 Because she flew too close.
Close enough to feel the heat
Close enough to watch her tips singe
catch flame as her body neared the fringe      .      and let go       .      so close enough to feel the bliss
                                        Blistering.
       ­                                                           She screamed.
Searing.                                   Straining.  ­                                Suffocating.
                                                    ­                    In pain.
As her wings melted
dashing her towards the ground                                                           ­                             to impact
                                                                ­         hard dirt.
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                 The earth mumbled
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                                      *Regret.

Life is like a journey,
That’s what they always say.
Like a winding path you draw yourself,
Whichever direction you sway.
I may be comfortable in my shoes,
But not in my own skin.
Happy where I am,
But not where I have been.
Life is like the blowing wind,
Sometimes it will knock me down.
But life is like the sun, as well,
It will always come around.
I’ve met new people
I’ve lost old friends,
I’ve made lifelong memories,
I will tie up loose ends.
People fall in love,
Maybe time or two,
And if they are lucky,
They will find someone like you.
For the one that always cares
The one who I call mine,
I could look into your eyes for hours.
“Forever” isn’t enough time.
I will hold your hand forever,
To your heart I will stay true
Because everything I thought I had lost,
I have now and forever in you.

There is my little sister,
The radiant one, you see.
Yes, she’s the one with the brown eyes,
The one that’s short, like me.
It’s plain to see she’s gorgeous,
She’s told so all the time.
She paints the words with color,
And I just write the rhymes.
Her laughter fills a room
It’s a genuine kind of sound.
But my favorite are the things that she
Tells me, with nobody else around.
This girl is always there for me.
She always was, is, and will be.
I guess that’s why I call her my sister…
She’s my eyes when I cannot see.
The thing is, God, I’m worried,
That she’s making the same mistakes.
I try to teach from my wisdom,
But my advice, she will not take.
Her friends are not the truest,
I hope someday that could change.
Boys are not her strong suit…
It seems it’s always rearranged.
So, I pray that she follows her heart
And that it leads her the right way.
That she falls in love with the person,
And not just what he has to say.
I pray that happiness finds her
And that her dreams come true.
Most of all, I want her to believe,
That she can find comfort in you.
I’m still worried, God, I need guidance…
For though it helped just talking to you,
I lastly will pray that she listens.
For all these words that I’m sharing are true.
One more thing, God, while you have the time,
When I leave, will she be okay?
Please, let her know that I love her.
Because I’ll be missing her every day.

I want to die in your arms.
Long nights, full of the smoke of darkness,
I have thought it in secret, in longing.
Who thinks such things? But I do.
I dream of it, like it's a salvation.
All my anger, all my fear and sadness, all my wretchedness,
I am proud.
And I want it gone.
I want it taken by your breathless touch on my cheek,
Your tears.
I want to die in your arms.
When I leave this world, I want you next to me.
I want you holding me.
I want your words the last I hear,
And I want my last breath to be your name.
I've tried so hard not to want it, my love,
Told myself it was wrong.
But blood and tears are much the same,
Sliced from you they both fall free.
I want to die in your arms.
I want to see your face last.
I want anything from you, in the end.
If you hate me for dying,
If you hate me for taking too long to die,
If you love me for loving you,
If you love me in apology
I want to hear it when I'm dying, in my last moments.
I want your voice, your words, your sighs, your eyes meeting mine.
I don't want to die, darling.
But I want to die in your arms.

I feel like I should save you,
because I've been there,
because I've done that.

But who am I to save you?
can't even save myself,
and I hate that.

I feel as though I know you;
because I feel like you're a mirror.
I'm staring at myself;
my reflection's getting clearer.