"covetous" poems
I've written about the wind
More than countless times.
I've always been so envious
Of it's freedom.
But now more than ever
The jealousy burns me
The air
How it moves and turns
It's free
And it can touch you.
It gets to brush those lips I miss,
And swirl around in your lungs.
It's ubiquitous limbs
Brush up against your arms
And weave between those fingers
it can hold your hands like I used to
it can do everything I can't.
but what I'm most covetous of
how it can watch you
and rest it's head against you
how it can twist in between the cracks in your smile.
the wind is my enemy
she is the temptress that mocks me
she laughs while I cry
because she lives in your lips
and you have no idea
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Some demons are born from malice
Sky rending hatred and blood storms
Such are demons of unending passion
Some demons are born from greed
Covetous grins and shifty hands
Such are demons of delirious nature
Some demons are born of desire
Coquette gazes and glazed eyes
Such are demons of temptation
Some demons are born from hunger
Thirsty tongues and soft palates
Such are demons of gluttony
Some demons are born from envy
Green eyes and clenched teeth
Such are demons of bitterness
Some demons are born of laziness
Slow movement and emotionless
Such are demons of apathy
Some demons are both of the self
Arrogant demeanor and fearless gaze
Such are demons of pride
All are demons, that come from oneself
But the true evil of sin
Is the self.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
I've told you once that I'm not a firm believer of the future, that I don't cling so much in it
Since it feels like I will only be disappointed if I keep my faith on it.
But ever since you made me feel something like my stomach is tied into so many knots that boy scouts would be jealous.
Butterflies filling it in that gardens would be envious,
and hot flashes flashing in that cameras would be covetous
I started and can't stop doing now something that is for me a future thing.
And that is waiting...
Waiting for you to feel the exact same ******* great feeling you've made me feel.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
She dresses in gossamer veils of scarlet and lures men to her noose
As they carelessly pour Fortune's gold into her nimble, covetous hands
And they hang themselves among the other piteous lepers before them.
As cruel as the Inferno, she drags them under as an enchantress would her dupes;
As beauteous as the beloved Aphrodite with eyes of white marble
She adds these dim men to her vast collection of trifles.
Then she disappears and I know she won't return.
For she is the Gypsy's Best.
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 8:38 AM UTC
Rise! Oh, Mighty Jupiter;
Our Father now forgotten.
Come claim your rightful reverence.
Your pagan pedigree misgotten.
You were once our Shining Father;
Great King of all the Sky.
But you allowed your world to set
so a new Son could arise.
Zeus once ruled before you, and
Jesus became your heir.
Today not many realize
how we got from here to there.
I have considered for some moments
how our thoughts of god do change.
Plural notions of so long ago,
today can seem so strange.
We like to think we've come so far,
since those pagan days of yore.
Have we abandoned superstition
or just embraced it even more?
It was millennia ago
that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus.
He, their leader, more than father,
often beaten by hubris.
The Greeks, they worshiped leaders,
seeking standing in this forum.
Such desires, democratic
became their gods that ruled before them.
As the centuries moved on,
your new Latin home was Roma.
Your title too, transformed
to reflect a new persona.
To Zeus we added "Father",
or in Latin, pater, we prefer.
So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater,
Zupater, then Jupiter.
Our names for gods reveal
exactly how they fill our needs.
Over time our needs evolve
and so a new name supersedes.
As Rome aged, it developed
a need to know god as a man.
To be one of his number.
To see themselves as of his clan.
This zeus, he can be talked to,
can be greeted and be known.
They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus.
And now its Jesus on the Throne.
Through such inquests we can see
the needs Gods fill evolving,
from cold, covetous Kings
to a begotten Son absolving.
We imagine in the Heavens
things to help us understand,
how a universe so endless
can be the realm alone of man.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
It was only days ago
In a time of a better me
The strangers lived here, sometime ago
They dwelled inside of me
I was young, and lived rather grand
In the skin that was me
Oh what times we had, them and I, I and them
I and the people inside of me
With our thoughts ever conflicting,
None were covetous of we
Maybe it's been years, not days ago
These people inside of me
Had only first appeared
Without my sanity
So they bound me with ropes,
Those people inside of me
My own body and mind my sepulchre
No longer are we who I used to be.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
This is A Faithful saying; If A Man Desire the Position of A Bishop, He Desire A Good Work. A Bishop then must be Blameless, the Husband Of One Wife, Temperate, Sober-Minded, of Good Behavior, Hospitable, Able to Teach: no given to Wine, no Violent, not Greedy for Money, bu Gentle, not Quarrelsome, not Covetous; One who Rules His Own House well, having His Children in Submission with all Reverence. For if a Man does not know how to Rule His Own House, how will He take Care of the Church Of GOD?; Not A Novice, lest Being Puffed-Up with Pride He Fall into the same Condemnation as the Devil. Moreover He must have A Good Testimony among those who are Outside, lest He Fall into Reproach and Snare of the devil. Likewise Deacons must be Reverent, no Double-Tongued, not given to much Wine, not Greedy for Money, Holding the Mystery of the Faith with Pure Conscience. But let these also First be Tested; then let them Serve as Deacons, Being Found Blameless. Likewise, their Wives mus be Reverent, not Slanderers, Temperate, Faithful in All Things. Let Deacons be the Husbands of One Wife, Ruling their Children and their Own House-Well. For those who have Served well as Deacons Obtain for Themselves A Good Standing and Great Boldness in the Faith which is in Chris Jesus. These things I write to You, though I Hope to Come to You shortly; But if I Am Delayed, I write so that You may know how You Ought to Conduct Thyself in the House Of GOD, which is the Church Of the Living GOD, he Pillar and Ground Of the Truth. And without Controversy Great is the Mystery Of Godliness: GOD was Manifested in the Flesh, Justified in thy Spirit, Seen by Angels, Preached among the Gentiles, Believed on in the World, Receieved Up In Glory.!!!
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
*I could compare envy to jealousy
quite easily
but that would be a disservice
to envy
Not to mention a disservice to jealousy.
Jealousy and envy are two
distinct emotions
And two distinct sins but
Envy is both malign and benign.
Envy that most unhappy of the sins.
And, unhappy I was watching you with her.
Envious of her, because she got to touch you
Kiss you, need you, love you.
I wished misfortune on you every time
I saw your joy in each other.
I coveted you.
I scarcely thought of anyone else.
My unhappiness, envy, made me send ill will
your way. Intensely petty thoughts of ill.
So much it made me unhappy, and yet mattered nil.
I'd rendered and reduced you to a possession
MINE.
Why her? Was I not merry and pretty enough?
I desired you above all
yet I was the one to fall from grace.
I turned inward, into a covetous envious hag.
I wanted to deprive you of her
for you to see only me, irony.
In Dante's Purgatory, the punishment for the envious
is to have their eyes sewn shut with wire
because they have gained sinful pleasure from seeing others brought low.
The only one brought low was me.
I gained no pleasure*
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
Bloated belly, swollen cheeks,
and a sunken stiff neck on robust torso.
Yet well fitted in flowing apparels;
falling and being raised frequently
from side to side.
Obscene opulence is your delight,
your prestige and your pride;
amassed unlawfully by the pen,
ever wet for your deception
and thievery.
The flight of your spoils of office
enlarge the shopping Malls and treasure houses
of the Occident,
leaving your covetous people
deprived of earning power.
To arms they take at boredom's peak,
whilst your virgins and maidens go a-whoring.
Still, you in your sinister acts of re-election,
widen their capacity for Evil, just to have
your sit-tight bid guaranteed you.
Jul 16, 2022
Jul 16, 2022 at 3:36 PM UTC
1 Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children;
2 And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us and hath given Himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savour.
3 But fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints.
4 Neither filthiness nor foolish talking nor jesting, which are not convenient, but rather giving of thanks.
5 For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.
6 Let no man deceive you with vain words; for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.
7 Be not ye therefore partakers with them.
8 For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord; walk as children of light;
9 For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;
10 Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord,
11 And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
Every ocean deserves to see YOU
And feel jealous of your beauty
Every sunrise deserves to see you
And be envy of your shine
Every flower deserves to see you
And be covetous of your colors & fragrance
Every cloud deserves to see you
And be mad at your gaiety float
Every river deserves to see you
And be ashamed of its own curves
Every dew deserves to reflect you
And be possessive of your image in it
Every leaf deserves to touch you
And let besotted by your skin
Every fish deserves to swim with you
And be ashamed of your flirtation with water
Every fruit deserves to taste YOU
And feel insecure of your nectar sweetness
Every breeze deserves to cling your body
And feel lustful of your brilliance
Every birds deserves to accompany you
And desirous of the smooth wings in flight
Every star deserves to see you
And be paranoid of your angelic sparkle
Every moonlight deserves to light YOU
And be jilted by your illumination
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
*Like the sin of lust, greed, is a need,
however unlike my need for you
greed turns my desire for your touch
your kiss, your caress to lust, to a greed of more.
Lust and greed are twins in the land of sin.
Sins of excess.
Rapacious, covetous, guaranteed to
succeed in tricking you into conceding them as a need.
Dante's, penitents were bound and laid face down on the ground.
Perhaps my greed of you exceeds the sin itself,
inordinate desire feeds my greed, that in turn
changes to lust*
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
I like to think your eye is at the keyhole,
Your sloppy brain conjuring make-shift realities
for your majick to paint into thin air
from your lies.
Bald-faced whoppers or sneaky half-truths,
You twirl them around your illusion
expecting
a fantastic creation
with which to delight yourself.
A pitiful white smoke jin,
dissolving
almost as quickly
as it rose from the flame.
You honestly believe you've stolen my illusion,
kept it just long enough to smudge,
a chalk drawing.
You honestly believe
I've let you do it, unwilling and unknowing.
Your fingers are *****
the powder won't wash away.
All for nothing.
You only erased the memory of what I once felt for you.
Ah, your makeshift majick works!
Well done and thank you.
How long will you keep squinting at the light on the other side?
Your eye must be getting tired.
Why don't you just open the door?
It ain't locked.
I've a feeling you've got a wicked temper
and a lot of hate built up inside that you
refuse to acknowledge,
try to ignore,
Until you're secure in the darkest corner of your prayer closet.
Facing a mirror,
Worshipping and damning
at the same time
That's when it boils over.
***** **** dog, frothing at the mouth...
Mean drunk, indiscriminate for a fight,
but there's no one at the bar.
Only a witch's cruel mirror
and all it says is...
"You aren't the Golden Child,
"Your majick is a sham
"No one cares enough to read you
"You're a thick, boring book
"The worst kind: a book about a book
"A book about yourself
"A book called 'Look What I've Done!'"
So here I sit, on the other side of your peephole view
Wondering what I should do next,
Knowing I'll never be strong enough to tell you
to your face
that I've known all along...
I walk through streets in your dreams...
Of this I'm certain
even as I know you're watching me right now,
with all your wasted mental projections,
charms, chants, lusts, cravings, desires, needs,
Casting that covetous spell my way but I guess
The keyhole must be too small
Because I don't feel a thing
and as I sit here,
naked in my own secret place,
I could care less that you live for these moments
of disappointed voyeurism
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 11:19 AM UTC
that hat seller
he’s a Maverick
itinerant, wanderer
no monkey business
no dependence, his own man
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
*Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads*
they’d not want to help him
they liked to brand him
so he said: **** you,
I’d rather go on my own*
moving from one place
to another
like a masterless samurai, a ronin
no monkey business for him
but the monkeys do come to him
he knows the monkeys
they’re everywhere the same -
pinching, covetous, not giving
but eager hands for taking;
and he throws his own hat down
and the monkeys imitate;
and he collects what is his
and he moves on, as he must
for his work is everywhere
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
*Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads*
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 8:41 AM UTC
They say the envious will have their vying eyes wired shut,
and their lips sealed like empty sepulchers.
And yet, in spite of this,
I think I’ll covet you until the end of my days
For if I cannot look upon your face and feel it { mine }
I’d rather not see
And if I cannot say your name, and taste my { claim }
I’d rather not speak.
Covetous?
Perhaps
Envious?
Always.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
Love is so vapid for me,
I feel like don't want to love anymore,but
When i see you;
I startled and ponder,
Why god takes a lot of time to,
Make a men like you for me ?
Every dames fairytale dream is,
A hubbie who hearkens patiently.
Now i got mine.
But,
I want to utter something
I thought this was a real seal,
You & me were locked
A padlock of emotions and feelings.
I had cried so many tears
I felt all alone.
Its made my heart black ,
Like a chunk of coal.
When times runs out
My heart cognized everything
Now i come from the hazy sphere.
I can sense you now.
You fell in love,
From the moment you laid eyes on me.
When, I juxtapose you with the star's
He feels covetous because,
You and your love is most beaming.
Whem you clutch me in your arms,
Is the best loved part of the day.
Over a period of time,
I got to know the real you.
Sometimes you are my bestie
Sometimes my soulmate
Sometimes my acharya.
I know you,
Like no one i have ever known.
I am sorry if i do something make you really mad.
I am sorry for breaking your heart but,
I can't promise you that we will never fight
But i can promise,
With all my heart
I will always love you and never leave you.
When i say adieu, promise me you won't cry,
Bcz the day i will be saying farewell,
Is the day i die.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
It's hard to change any cult
More so the jealous from the occult
Faculty of the melting mold of mind
Zealous of inflicting conflicts of all kind
To the just and graceful among mankind.
Brazenly different from vogue dears
conspires to inspire its rogue peers
To smear even slur on godly seers.
Constantly configures to figure out,
Anything, by any means to spy out
The faintest attribute of the virtuous
Contributes to trigger the rash jealous
To fling out and pierce the gall
to gush out to spread and stall
The arteries, nerves to blood-en
the face and the cheeks to redden
Nose and the chin to harden
Ear lobs to burn and burden.
The jealous is well known
Yet the cause is unknown
Why does it vent its ire
Dent and impair the fair
Engage in freelance
To abuse in parlance
In parliaments of vanity fair
The evil avail many a company
Of gluttons, covetous avaricious
sloth, sensuous pride and many
Engage merely to rage in ferocious
Fire, the fuel of the evil in the savage dark ages
obsessed in rampage and carnage
All celebrations become aberrations
Of the essence of celestial presence
The din dares to dampen the spiritual
Asphyx the specifics in fad rituals
It is difficult to change the cult
of the stinky melting mold
of the evil minds that find
new felony ways to inflict conflicts
To the just and graceful lives
of the peace loving among mankind.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Poetry and promises are lies
Hidden beneath the beautiful verses
Veil by those heartbroken words.
Poetry and promises are lies
they often mark your fragile heart
not because you're hurt
it is because your life is related.
Poetry and promises are lies
Widely used to express and confess
and also for words of depress
because it works when
insecurity is at its best.
Poetry and promises are lies
they made those pretty faces wrinkle
staying up all night
to write, to read, to feel
the night.
Poetry and promises are lies
where science and logic
are above the skies
Floating they will be
in the silent sea.
Poetry and promises are lies
I wonder how it can produce cries
when all the logic
are above the skies
when they are there
to be the best sighs.
Poetry and promises are NOT lies
people are being covetous
because someone chose
poetry over another
troupe that spread lies.
a.b
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 5:00 AM UTC
Your eyes drip hot wax
on the bare of my back.
I 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘮 at the 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯,
𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲.
I dont make a sound
as it cools down.
Your 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦 fastened 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,
𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗸𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲.
You flash me your teeth -
I forget how to breathe.
And I 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, I can't 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦
𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
So I fill up the room
with the scent of my mood.
Can't 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺 you get 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩
𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗼.
Your tongue licks your lips.
Hungry, I am your fix.
Well 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 in your 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥
𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀.
You follow my gridlines,
I etch you in fineline.
𝘌𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥, we've 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥
𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘀.
Your skin sends out shivers
to make my hips quiver.
They're 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 and 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲.
I keep it discrete
as you watch me low key,
til 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 on the
𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗿.
▪︎ mica light ▪︎
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 2:25 AM UTC
Weary eyed disappointment shines through the blue
in an attempt to quell my spirit.
6 weeks between us, yet you are as old as time.
I am not sorry for your frustration,
it stirs my ***** to see your distress
at my half-smile.
I offered you warning, long before gold was shared.
I told you I'd be hard to hold,
spelled out my weakness,
held aloft all flaws.
Still you lept at my flame,
seeking to contain it within your covetous palm,
to mold me with your priceless wisdom,
your righteous idea of who I could be,
should be....would be.
A me without a trace of self is your desire.
A shell filled with your vision of perfection.
A stay at home
Lay at home wife.
Last night you said that you had made me a better person,
while I sat and wondered at your breathing
in the hope that it would stop.
Do not take my silence as compliance.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
*I am greedy, I am covetous, I am insatiable
in the way I want all there is to have about you,
and I grasp at it with earnest hands.
Yes, I do want to know all your fears and dreams,
and of course I want to know things like
whether or not you like your eggs over-easy.
But I want to know all of the things about you
that have made you the enthralling individual you are:
each of the things that make you cry,
anything and everything that has made you smile,
all of the reasons you have scars and blemishes.
I want to know the hex code for that perfect shade
of blue in the sky that brings you peace, and
tattoo it onto my skin so that I would never forget.
I want to learn everything there is to know about you
and spend the rest of my life trying to memorize it.*
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
With a pencil you wait
Hand on paper
To behold and make still
That point in time
Covetous mind
Each stroke a bar in the cage: eternal vacuum
Each stroke a transformation; a window built
On your graying walls ; covetous mind.
You bear the child of perception; gestating
Each glimpse a sad caress; a plea
Asking every detail to stay behind.
Each birth of salient insight; a tradesman
Haggling with the ravages of time.
It's a wonder how
Each line, each shade
Is a mirror; reflecting
Cradles and tears; and
The miracle of learning
How to ride a bike
That first love
And the first child.
That full moon in a clear sky.
That mouthful fare from a mother's hands.
Those conversations of cuckoos
Hidden from those who pry.
The love radiated from parched land
When messengers from teeming clouds are let fly.
And a touch on memory bereft;
Of a lover's hand.
A collage of senses that flows
To the captive hand
Held by you; covetous mind.
And as I sit here, contemplating
On why we draw
I realize, what I do
Is a conspiracy lead
By mine own
Covetous mind.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
You accused me of jealousy
No, that's not me
It's just you and your insecurities
You were the first and the worst
But it seems that I have stolen your place
Wiped you out of her face
Your existence is gone forever in her heart
But who said you were even there from the start
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Sweet wisteria
Weakly protesting their death
By covetous hand
Never had they bloomed
In such profuse abandon
Till those last three years
Trailing sad windows
Lush purple riot of vines
Struggle to protest
One morn I woke to
Roar of angry bulldozers
At the empty house
Nothing there remains
One brief hour quickly shattered
My belovèd home
~Hilda~
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
her voice, in imagination,
is a moonlight sonata
to which I listen
when I'm alone, eyes closed;
covetous heart unwilling to share
painful beauty of the adagio,
explaining pain only angels know;
then, effortless transformation into
playful allegretto, delicate hands
already caressing bruised soul,
nestles fingers into mine;
we stroll, entwined as lovers will,
along lonely paths together,
each holding up the other,
building to passion of presto;
pace quickened, chastened steps
abandoned as flesh echoes
electric crescendos of bliss,
all that's real ceasing to exist
save sweet sweat,
fragrant breath of the other;
then I listen again,
to impossible moonlight,
and imagine.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC