Seven Deadly Sins: Lust

No one would have to know, thought the mortician. No! It's late, all the fumes have gotten to me... He couldn't think straight. She lay there, motionless on the table, one of the most beautiful corpses he'd ever seen. He swallowed hard as a bead of sweat dribbled its way down his greasy forehead. His lips were pursed tightly and he approached the table. His heart throbbed painfully but his feet made him move closer. He finally gave in to temptation and darted towards her, but tripped on his untied shoelace and fell to the floor, his throat landing directly on the sharp end of the scalpel he'd forgotten was in his hand.

Again, huge thanks to Lady Antimony over at Thoughts, Musings, and Broken Promises for hosting this awesome event, The Seven Deadly Sins Blog Challenge. Sorry about the rather macabre story, but hey, they are the Seven DEADLY Sins for a reason.

Comment if you like, I'd appreciate all the "well-deserved" praise! (Or appropriate criticism, if need be.) Heh. Thank ya!

Seven Deadly Sins: Pride

This is the third in the series of the Seven Deadly Sins blog challenge that I'll be doing, and I want to give a huge "Thank you!" to Lady Antimony over at Thoughts, Musings, and Broken Promises here on Blogger for hosting this wonderful event. You should totally check out her page, and all her awesome works! Her poetry is absolutely delightful.

    I gaze intently at his still and quiet beauty; his pencil-thin brow, his crimson lips filled with passion, his eyes as mysterious as the afterlife, his jaw immaculate and strong... He is the portrait of perfection in every aspect. No, he doesn't have burns on his face, blisters that ooze ceaselessly if touched improperly. No, he doesn't have hands as rough as sandstone, nor a conscience burdened with the shattered bones and screams of his foes. But he also doesn't have the Medal of Honor or a medal for bravery, either. I steal one last glance from the painting, then smirk and turn to push my wheelchair out the door of the art museum.

(100 words)

Seven Deadly Sins: Slothfulness

    Royce opened one lazy eye and peered around the room to get an idea of his whereabouts. He had passed out on his back in the middle of the living room floor sometime in the past few hours, he determined. The plate of pizza was still on the coffee table, just where he had left it. He rolled over and tried, hopelessly, to push himself to his feet. The first attempt was a sure failure, and so he lay there for five more minutes, deliberating whether to try to stand back up, or to drift back into slumber. He had had a tough afternoon, after all; digging about between the couch cushions looking for old scraps of food, and pondering, for some time, about what his toes might look like these days. He pushed himself slowly to his feet. 'That's two push-ups today,' he thought. He swatted at the flies buzzing around the pizza, and took a bite. Cold. Stale. Just the way he liked it. A sudden rumbling in his bowels made him freeze. Given the length of the vibrations, he knew it was one of two things: A) his stomach was imploding, or B) he had to use the bathroom. He took a wild guess and went for the bathroom. He could have gone anywhere on the floor without remorse, but he felt especially polite today. His monstrous feet pounded down the hallway, and he pushed open the door with his face, without even knocking. After settling himself in his upright position, his eyes became heavy, his vision blurred, and he passed out in the litter box. Oh, to be a cat.

(I know it's way over the word count, but I couldn't stop... I... I'm so sorry!)

Seven Deadly Sins: ARRGH! (Greed)

    The captain gawked at the pile of loot that lay before him. He couldn't even feel the wound in his leg anymore, nor the splinters of wood from the shattered mast and the innumerable cutlass slashes he'd received from his now-waterlogged enemies. He dropped to his knees to stir the booty with his hooked hand, perhaps drool a little, and maybe even wet himself. His eyes glistened selfishly in the golden light, and he closed the door, laughing maniacally as water seeped in through the walls, and the ship sank into the dark blue abyss, taking the Cap'n with it.

(98 words)

Summer of Color: Yellow

Ahoy, mateys! My name is Zade Forrest, and though I'm pretty new to the blog world, I've decided to participate (a little late, to be sure...) in this event, The Summer of Color.
I found it via Heather Henry (littleredhenry.blogspot.com), but I, nonetheless, would like to thank the host of said sweet event, Kristin (twinkletwinklelikeastar.blogspot.com), for her awesome creativity in putting this all together. So, thank you! :D
As you all may know, this week's color is YELLOW!

"Clipped Wings"
(Sorry about the picture quality; I had to use my phone because it would be incredibly difficult to scan this considering all the paper clips...)

Dr. Villanelle

This was a villanelle that I wrote about a year and a half ago in my creative writing class.

Doctor Villanelle

The wounds so gruesome, the blood so red
Covers my hands, and my nice white floor
His heart rate stops, another one dead.

(A picture for your viewing enjoyment)

Blinded and bleeding, strapped to the bed
Moaning in pain, he screams “Please, no more!”
The wounds so gruesome, the blood so red.

‘Make the incision’, I say in my head
Heaving so hard, sweat pours from his pores
His heart rate stops, another one dead.

My palette and paint, morphine and meds
I’ll fix him up, right down to his core!
The wounds so gruesome, the blood so red.

It’s dangerous work, the ground I tread
Cut left, slice right, of me he implores!
His heart rate stops, another one dead.

Torn to pieces, a human salad,
I move his mauled body to the floor
The wounds so gruesome, the blood so red
His heart rate stops, another one dead.

(Note: Not all my poetry is as dark as this. I actually meant for this one to be, how you say... Humerus? Ha! A pun...)

Mind

You can't run
And you can't hide
From everything
You feel inside.

You drown yourself
in Isolation
And trap yourself
in Desolation.

But there's something there
In the corner, it grows.
It's watching you.
It always knows.

In the darkest
Darkness of your soul
It roots itself;
It digs a hole.

It suffocates you
With its cold hands
It manipulates you
And makes demands.

It muffles you if
You try to scream.
And bites you to prove
It's not a dream.

You're lost, you
Don't know what to do.
You cannot kill it,
Because it's you.