Seven Sins: Greed

The third sin

Graphic created by H. R. Sinclair.

Riches. Power. Excess. Obsession. Corruption.

Image by Olga Shenderova.

Control - Edward Swafford

Centrality trains focus for a mendacious mind
             So much more than kneeling
                     At the Faustian foot of your false God
This is the new world, yet we'll force the old one
Unto seven "deadly" blessings
                                       BUT
We.                                                                            Are. 
Thrice placed for a foolish glint of gnostic gold 
    Cynosure eyelines meet at this race
        For the green genteel backs of deedless, dais
                              Thought leaders
Pray and pay, or pay and pray?
Sartre was a martyr + Hillary was a warmonger
In sheepish wolf cloth stitched with
                     "We're with her" freneticism
Circa 2016 ALA 1916 ostensory WWI
LOOPING 
                RePeAtiNg 
                                  Determinism
Our burden era is causation's mass effect
Occult symbolism trails us in sun-dialed traction
                   Those track marks, 
L
O
O
K

D
O
W
N

Can you eye our
Influence? 

© Edward Swafford 2025

Image by YI REN.

Baby Blue - Melanie Cole

I just can’t get over you,
my baby blue.
Last night, you came to me while I was dreaming
and I was screaming

Out.

Oh, you
Baby blue.
You’re a personified forget-me-not
Thinking of you keeps my eyes on the clock.

And

I could never go a day without my true blue– Jeans,
ocean spray, sky expanse, baby blue lips, blue pills.

© Melanie Cole 2025

Image by AOG PIXELS.

Petrified Gold - Ann Marie Steele

A kumquat sun defiantly peels inside-out
the exquisite elixir of his skin— squirting piquant juices with abandon
like he’s Midas — avarice turning all he touches to gold
Dionysus, chuckling at this spoiled King, accustomed to being served

up by his lucky cup and saucer clouds beneath a flamboyantly
flickering lavender sky, waiting hand and foot
streaking naked amid blue ribbon clouds — who stake their claim,
where I swear I saw the Gorgons, the sisters thrice , even the half-mortal
Medusa

making haste while the sun shone — admonishing the hero of his fate
Perseus reflecting her petrifying gaze
giving her a run for her money
whilst the sun—exalted, fiery phallic that He is —

plunges into deep rest

dreaming that nothing gold stays

and, despite her appearance, the moon’s glow waned, weeping
she’d choose day over night, anytime — especially eternity.

© Ann Marie Steele 2025 

Image by Dynamic Wang.

Greed’s Goal - Oli Trollgora

What purpose is there in greed?
Why have more than you will use?
I understand a storehouse,
A place to keep, for later,
Items, that you have need of.
But wanting to gain more stuff,
More than you will ever use,
Makes no sense, especially
When there are those with nothing.
Folks lack food, clothing, shelter,
And access to resources
You don’t even think about.
Healthcare, Justice, and Fairness
Are also things you won’t share.
If you learn to live with less,
And learn to share what you have,
You might enjoy the world more.

© Oli Trollgora 2025 

Image by Ekaterina Belinskaya.

Solace - Laura Catanzano

            paint me in vanity, and I'll check the 
mirror, stare until my eyes bleed and my skin 
hardens like plaster after water- 
so what if my reflection is skewed with pride? 

           shower me in wealth, and I'll count 
my gold, stacking it up like bodies who 
have shriveled, no shelter from the sun- so 
what if I'm a little greedy? 

           put me down as lazy, and I'll watch you 
work your hands to the bone, only concerned 
with what you've done for me lately- 
so who are you to say I act with sloth? 

          fill my cup with wine, my plate, fine 
cheese and meats, I'll siphon it down 
my throat as my neighbor collects her food 
stamps- so what, you call me glutton?
 
          lure me with longing, and I'll abandon 
my reason, jumping into dirty sheets 
for a five second burst of pleasure you call 
love- so what, if I lay in bed with lust? 

         color my heart with anger, and I'll watch 
as it slows to black, hardening the 
world around me, no softness can remain- 
so what if I pound my fists with wrath?
 
drench me with jealousy, as I peer 
through my blinds, at the manicured lawn 
next door, my own roses dehydrated and withering- 
so what if I'd rather bathe in envy?
 
"you'll be alright, child." 
take solace and see- 
these sins are not so deadly" 
-the devil says to me 

© Laura Catanzano 2025

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