Luxuria (Lust)

Asmodeus demon of lust
carnal manipulator
****** captor

Castitas (Chastity)

Embracing virtue
honorable wholesomeness
not through one’s weakness

Gula (Gluttony)

The egocentricity
with which the Lord of the flies
upon us relies

Temperantia (Temperance)

practicing restraint
prudence to judge with regard
remaining on guard

Avaritia (Greed)

The Mammon demon
controlling the warmonger
with vows of power.

Caritas (Charity)

Crave unselfishness
give unreserved empathy
love and sympathy

Acedia (Sloth)

Deny grace and God
so evil shall become fact  
when we fail to act

Industria (Diligence)

Fortitude is a must
persistence in conviction
zealous for passion

Ira (Wrath)

In its purest form
presents violence and hate
Satan’s fate

Patientia (Patience)

mercy to haters
receiving the grace to forgive
rewards are massive

Superbia (Pride)

Lucifer’s downfall
for excessive vanity
destroys humility

Humanitas (Kindness)

Sympathy without bias
belief without bitterness
inspire kindness

Invidia (Envy)

resentful passion
an insatiable desire
potent cause of dire

Humilitas (Humility)

think of yourself less
and not think less of yourself
don’t exalt oneself

What is about some people
insisting I want to engage
with whatever they are watching
singing along to
listening to

Example:

recently, on a long haul train
travelling from A to Z
in the rudimentary rammy
to find the unreserved seats
enter the 20-something
alluring guitar laden
leather and tattoo clad female
tumbling onto the next table to me
unpacking as if she was moving in

munchable fruit laptop
gleaming white
in clear conflict with
the dreads and the beads
pumped in patchouli oil
drenched in love and peace
armed with a dvd
that would shortly crush the spirits
of every soul in Coach D:
the Quiet Coach

enter screaming chipmunks
hysteric children
and songs to sing along to
which she did with obsessive precision

insisting that Coach D
should in some way be
enlightened
entertained
entranced
and ultimately impressed

such was her overbearing desire
to love thyself above all things
give the peace sign when appropriate
and otherwise don't give 2 F's
for anyone else, regardless of situation.

consumer behaviours were erratic at best
if the Jedi senses
were anything to go by

if i'd had a handheld vibe particle device
I could have created a pathological combustion
and an accelerated Coach D A-Bomb

heads turned
feet shuffled
zips unzipped and re-zipped
open hands holding Kindles
immersed in philanthropic discourse
turned to clenching fists
the sound of bent drink cans
rusted cogs in motion
deep breathing

even level 1 Tetris
became too much
for the bald fellow to my left
who accepted failure
and opted to purchase
a large brown bag of beer
from the bar

GOOD CALL

libation and the pagan ideals;
imbibe thyself to dull the senses

I concur
and,
in exchange for our classic colonial restraint
on behalf of Coach D
I wish upon you the following:

1. You will never again
drink a decent coffee from any vendor anywhere in the world, ever.

2. Your laptop will
turn off during any movie you sing along to, silent or otherwise.

3. Your guitar
strings snap during a performance in front of people you don't know who paid to get in.

4. Your Tattoo artist
has an epic fail and tattoo's a defamatory remark rather then your lovers name.

5. Your leather trousers
shrink wrap and make the sound of bursting bubble wrap every time you move.

6. Your comfortable shoes
attract bits of grit like a magnet, regardless what you are wearing.

7. Your waft of perfume
is likened to compressed 7 year old blue cheese that has sat in the sun for weeks.

8. Your location
at any time has a global no shoot-and-miss policy for all birds without exception.
(even the ones that don't fly)

9. Your singing
is so electric that every time you sing in public your hair stands on end
and cutlery sticks to your nose.

10. Your beer is always warm.
11. Your wine corked.
12. Your water salty.

13. That this poem goes viral on the internet
expressing one man's words which mirror the every day person
working their socks off to make a living
and in the hectic hustle and bustle
one of the sanctuaries is Coach D
on the way home from the City
and the frustration and restraint
of anti-social conduct
and basic respect.

14. That I will be on David Letterman
or the Late Late Show
or USA tonight
or the BBC prime time news
or some such over-hyped
TV show talking about you.

15. That you will thank me for making you a celebrity by default -
15.1 and subsequently appear on late night Z-list celebrity game shows involving boxes of spiders.

You are the worst Muse ever
in the history of Muses

16. and this is how you will be remembered

I am seated, bathed in a moon dusts.
I am writing an expose, indubitably no reads
But certain one of my ultimate hush buzzes,
I am clearly happy as I write though I am a bee in a shaken jar.
All this because I am opening up to my crush!

I hold an enormous secret, behind these shades,
Big, abysmal, reserved yet it beams on my face
Only concealed by forged shackles to loyal achates
What is this secret? What’re these shades?
These are inquisitions posted in this piece to my crush!

Now my crush, there’s a question of a constant hide and seek.
The hide and seek played lone and solo have left me shooting blanks,
Façade I invite you in, mirage in whence I heartshoot your affections or meeks
Hopefully these guise and semblance will break with a bang!
Then I break free to my crush!

Then I get to tell her my ardor unreserved and eased,  
Show her crescents canyon dimples that curl skyward as her smile
Toy with her smooth creased back and forehead playfully yet in peace,
I finally draw the curtain, I spit out my inside in miles.
I love you my crush

I do
feel the break of your
most true, shining, unreserved smile
coming over the horizon


No one can hold bitterness inside the
lines of their face forever
lined with memories and broken memories
and truth-be-held-for-fear-to-see
and broken backs for fear to be
and the haunting of eternity
and waking up, refuse to be
standing up, your tears are free
your soul is free

your determination
sparked at dawn revealed
to run from this damnation
hard
fast
harder
waking up your eyes without a stretch
seeing for the first time the ones that knew you best
all along inside your beaten heart repressed
now walk inside the lines of appreciation
and outside the lines of classic creation

were those moments that you spoke of once
a child
a voice
a call
here suddenly aside the spot you left behind
with nowhere to hide
nowhere to hide
you don't want to
hide

you're here for the ride.
Your face shines of joy.
The wall was inside but before
you died behind it
you said "Yes" for the first time in years

You don't need to hide, there's still brightness
inside where you left it, still held
for release with your tears


And I feel the break of contagious happiness
and my most true, shining, unreserved smile
coming over the horizon.

putting faith in another human being
creates in me a fear so vast and enduring
it's hard to fit it in one imperfect lifetime
trust distorted by the history of things
done to and by us in the name of love
creates a doubting monologue in my head
that manifests in unattractive neediness
a seemingly bottomless hunger
for the reassurance of your touch
I fervently covet
your singular devotion
show me you'll do anything
to silence this non-believer
with love so constant
and unreserved
I feel it
from the outside
in

My body temperature rises like the moon.
Odd that the sun is the symbol of heat,
yet, most heat is felt at night.
Subtlest of sighs and I am undone.
Buttressed and encompassed by you.
I want to bite, nibble, peck at your neck
Like an artist with granite I want to carve into you
I crave you, I want to market our practiced need.
Subtle yet lulled, our lust will be boundless.
Founded on our need to keep our word.
We together are a force, a natural force.
Unreserved, unobserved, unconcerned
I allow you to flood into me.
Hazily, I am drawn to the figure on the floor,
we swore no more, but the thrill of the slow ****,
allows us to be enthralled, exhilarated, liberated.
The moon wanes, the body grows cold, we soar
as we clean the gore.
We swear 'nevermore' but are we just Poe's distraught
lovers, falling into madness?
The madness of the bloodlust, ******.

Feel breath upon milky neck
give yourself
the sacrifice
for unchained paradise
and the gifts of life.

Thrusting forth upon such shapely form
the rise of golden **** and the
glide of swollen *******
such feline majesty
such magnificence of deviance.

Lay hands on nubile skin
deft and swift precision
straddled in muscular passion
the reins like a flowing mane
gracing the arched spine in pleasure.

Tilted head stretched
exposed form
catching dancing shadows
in the eternal midnight.

Call my name
as if a name
were a pulse wave
of unreserved expletives.

The chastity of yesterday
innocence lost in devilry
offered freely
like a gift to the gods
empower revelry
chemically.

****** Deeper
Give Give Give
again and again and again and again and again and again and...

No refrain
awash in pagan sweat
doused and dripping wet
revel in cobalt aquas
close in the rise
of final exaltation
the Alpha stanza.

BOP/bop BOP/bop
hearts beat out of time
heaving breath
encased in bone and heated skin
consumed in the juices of forever
and the pleasure of
pagan archaic sin.

It took me a decade of toil
years of experience and expertise
to learn that men are happy scoring
ecstatic when he bags and trashes
that short win he has not earned
Sometimes as women we steam
trimmed with seams of emotion
awaiting to open hearts unreserved
Yet he don’t want this vulnerability
he wants to be ignored and uncared for
denied and kept at the deepest ledge
for when you give yourself easily
he will devalue your inner-self
blocking and tantalising from afar
Men are still immature within
afraid of closeness,scared of love
afraid of the emotions,scared to trust
and when he chases,he is fast as a cheetah
preying closer and closer to his price
and when he lies, he sugar coats the facts
so that he creates an illusionary promise
Yet deep within he is like a baby
strained with automatic reflexes
unable to make an emotional dialogue
on how to make the woman really happy....

What rage there is,

In youthful lovers.

The lustful want of incitement,

Excitement.



Passionate energy.

Unreserved and incorrigible resentment

For the men in suits,

Settle down.

Don’t settle down.



The pressure of ***

And the stench of expectation.

Bated breath as I reveal your weak

Underbelly.

Don’t speak, don’t apologise

As I count the freckles across your

Inner thighs.

I need to know I don’t need you.



Let me love you,

Let me.

sun and moon stand side-by-side in the great starless sky of this Monday Sunday Tuesday workweek
with ambulance stoplight caution I leap from crevice to crack of the ***** cement walkways that tear across snowy fields
staring at the world around me - faces as solemn unreserved apathetic mirrors of nothing in their corresponding souls
pair them off in dialogues of the triumphs of the fabled GPA - its deep-throat growling dripping fangs embedded in their minds since sloppy second-hand birth
and I cry out and I cry alone for these are the summers winters springs falls etc and so on of my discontent
for I am a man among gods
gods of capitalism and communism  and social disorder and bureaucracy
gods of music and poetry and written spoken words and fashionability
and the only false evidence of such godly aspirations remain on my body as fading bitemarks on my wrists from when once I tried so valiantly to tear my technicolor blood from these incontinent arms
but even in such times as those there was no salvation but for yellow-staining death sticks clutched between shaking fingers and melting shots fired down raw fleshy throat in rapid secession
the gods I hold so dear have left me for whatever come what may in these places of my mind filled with words and thoughts and images of your everything thrashing against nothing