I recently did a project for my high school Faust class which involved me writing a poem for each of the seven deadly sins.
I don't really like them all, since they were for a project, and not for myself, but they're kind of incomplete without each other. So here goes.
1. The strong physical desire to engage in sexual intercourse with somebody, usually without associated feelings of love or affection
I cannot see your face but I feel your body moving near mine
My heart is pounding and my mouth is watering
My body is liquefying beneath my skin
Nothing is said between us, nothing has been said at all
I do not even know your name
But I know your intentions
Your body brushes against mine and I suck in my breath
The charge between us is electric and I feel desire surging through me
I want to feel you
I want to grab you and hold you and gasp with you in a fit of passion
To know you want me as much as I want you
To strip you down and feel your naked skin against mine
Writhe with you and feel our separate hearts beat in single pulsing time
In lustful unison
And when our night or early morning ends in sheer exhaustion
I will kiss you one last time,
Bite my lip,
And walk away.
And let our perfect night of fervor remain
Unscarred with pleasantries
Or the search for something deeper.
1. A haughty attitude shown by people who believe, often unjustifiably that they are better than others; conceit
She tosses her head and pretends to get a piece of hair off her lip,
She knows she is prettier than anyone else in the room
Because she bought her outfit on Rodeo Drive.
She smiles and her teeth sparkle like her diamond earrings
She speaks confidently but disdainfully,
Patronizing with every word.
Her wealth is her pride even though she has not earned it herself
Her parents have lavished her with gifts and compliments for so long
She now believes every word of it and believes it is true.
She will show you her wealth but not share it,
If she pays she will never let you forget it.
If you spend the night she will show you her family heirlooms
The priceless treasures and the big-screen TVs
She has received the best education
The most expensive training
In every art and dance and sport she has ever wanted to learn.
She has never had to work or worry,
Never had to see the other side,
And she doesn’t realize that she is lucky to live the way she does
She deserves it.
1. The feeling of discontent and resentment aroused by the desire for someone else’s success, good fortune, qualities, or possessions
You are so beautiful, so sweet
You have everything you could ever want
Everything I could ever want
You’ve never had to work for anything
You probably never will
I spend my days working tedious jobs that pay my bills
But don’t afford me new cars and manicures
Those things that come with the life you were just born into on a fluke of fate
Why do I have to work so hard and so long just to get by?
I want to tell myself it builds character to have to earn your own life
But you are perfect in every way—
You are polite and kind, flawless on paper and in looks
How could I ever compare to you?
How can you live so effortlessly
While the rest of us have to work for our simple comforts
You smile at dignitaries with bleached porcelain veneers
While I brush my teeth at night
Nobody cares how your teeth got so white
Only that they are
I hate you for your uncomplicated life
You don’t deserve it.
1. Showing an unreasonably strong desire for money
2. An overwhelming desire to have more of something than is actually needed
He is destroying a company and selling the pieces for an incredible profit
He is obliterating thousands of good jobs
Jobs held by the same people for so long
Jobs they will never find a match for
But he doesn’t care.
He is overcome with the desire for the kill,
For the money he knows will be transferred into his account;
He doesn’t need the money
But he wants it desperately.
He does not think about the wives that will cry when their husbands come home
Or the children that won’t get what they want for Christmas
He thinks only of the money
Of the size of his wallet and his bank statement
He is driven by the search for the most digits anyone can have for his
Gross annual profit
And he will have it if it is humanly possible,
He will have it even if he is the ruin of so many others
His heart is made of cash
And his soul is made of credit.
1. The act or practice of eating and drinking to excess
He tosses and turns under the sheets
He is filled with desire, with longing and cannot help himself
He must have it
He rises, throwing down the covers and heads to the kitchen
His most visited room of all
He searches, slowly at first and then frantically
He must have satisfaction, he must stop this craving
The refrigerator yields little to him
Some leftover pizza and breadsticks
Devouring them, nearly choking in his rush,
He cannot explain this obsession
He cannot feel hunger anymore
He is always full, but his appetite is never satisfied
He is addicted and he knows it but he cannot stop it
He has given in to it and has stopped caring
He has accepted it as his fatal flaw
Unalterable, a hopeless cause,
Something to ignore about himself
He has filled himself to excess
There is no more room,
But still, he needs more.
1. A dislike of work or any kind of physical exertion
2. Laziness, indolence
I am so tired
What have I been doing lately?
Not that much, I guess.
Watching TV until there’s nothing else good on
Thank God I work from home
Don’t have to get dressed
Who else can go to work in their pajamas?
I don’t know
I guess everyone can because of the internet
Ugh. I’m hungry.
I’ll eat later. The fridge is too far away.
Maybe in a couple hours.
Can’t go back to sleep it’s… almost 3 pm,
There’s probably something on TV now.
I should probably do those spreadsheets…
Nah. It’s too early to think about work
I’ll start them… between Jeopardy and Extreme Makeover
Yeah, I’ll do them then.
1. Fury or anger often marked by a desire for vengeance
2. The vengeance, punishment, or destruction wreaked by somebody in anger
His blood boils and his hand are shaking
He sweats and gasps for the air he cannot seem to find
He is overcome with anger and desperation.
He hits the bag once, twice, three times
Wishing he could hurt the man who hurt her
Each time picturing his head in the path of his fist.
Sweat is pouring off his body
He convinces himself over and over to stay where he is,
To let his rage out this way.
But what he craves is something more satisfying and
Much more drastic
He wants to take the grizzled face and smash it into a table,
Take the scrawny body and knock it to the ground
And slit the throat of that disgusting excuse for a man
Who took her dignity,
Who tainted her perfect soul and perfect beauty.
He takes off the gloves and throws them down, no more composed than he was before
A shower, he tells himself, and nothing more
He hopes warm water will calm his livid nerves
And stay his hateful mind.