Poetry-Thing Thursday: To Show

Sycophantic psycho cat,
stepping up to the bat,
beats her cleats upon the mat,
to ready up her brilliant stat,
and lift the corner of her hat,
while the umpire and the catcher, fat,
are wishing they’d instead sat.

After the game she’ll go to see,
visions of eternity,
in raving drug and booze party,
where perhaps she’ll meet me,
for some psychedelic tea,
that will force us into memory,
and leave us stranded out at sea.

Perhaps then we’ll make a bet,
that could never be reset,
especially if we haven’t met,
or maybe she may take me yet,
her loins throbbing, pulsing wet,
and then I, she will get,
with expert-knotted, new fish-net.

Maybe we’ll win,
feel skin to skin,
as I dive in,
deep in her satin,
wet warm I pin,
she feels me within,
committing original sin.

More likely though,
we’ll never know,
what the future could sow,
were we to go,
together, en-tow,
all others hollow–
should’ve put my money to show.

Bonus Poem: You Died!

Skulls and torture,
blisters of pain,
boils on hollows,
that cry out your name.

Dark is the soul,
of the undead laid claim,
to the slaughtered foul,
in the wrath of rain.

Rank, rotten teeth,
in a smile from hell,
mired in the meek,
what bloody secrets you tell.

From the edge of a blade made of scorn,
to the tip of the tooth,
blows the war’s hallowed horn,
while in fire is the truth,
e’er to be reborn.

Seek out the sisters,
alone in the mists,
comfort the statues,
fallen amid trysts

And when from the edges of hell you return,
remember the souls of the wanton, forlorn,
For these are the creatures that like you will burn,
in the pits and fires, your souls to be torn.

Seek out the knowledge,
It cleverly fits,
in a narrative fashion,
that requires wits.

Remember to roll,
the dice to one side,
lest you see the toll,
once more; “You died!”