“DON’T BE SCARED OF POISON OR SATAN.” a poem for: Oct. 15, 2019 (Tues.)
THIS IS A PLACE of death, frustrations, gradations and different forms;
It might present you with poisonous, organic kale; for others, lightning storms.
ONLY GOD KNOWS? (heh, heh) what’s gonna GET YOU;
You might even die of HEART BREAK, when your LoverBlurtsOut: “WHO
ARE YOU?” because (s)he’s been stricken with “Alzheimers;”
“I think I’ve had enough of these horrific rhymers.”
You might be extinguished in a forest fire,
And, when you are set upon the funeral pyre,
YOU MIGHT COME ALIVE (for a moment) AND TURN,
To “the participants” as you slowly burn,
And say: “This place is poisonous, so you must become immortal;
IF YOU WANNA REALLY FLOURISH, simply find ‘The Portal,
To The Underworld’ and make a pact with Sally Satan,
So you can live FOREVER and always be datin’,
HOT CHICKIE BABIES, for that’s The Most Important Thing,
To go ‘RIGHT IN THERE’ and rock’n’roll and sing;
Sing you a LOVE SONG, sacred and eternal,
And, remember: Babes love it IF you are paternal,
And can be ‘their daddy,’ Their SUGAR DADDY all night.
Moral: “POISON’s WAITIN’ FOR EVERYONE, for everyone, all right?”
Poison is SO HOT: like poisonous lips,
Watch out for Poisonous LOVE from poisonous hips.
But, heck, why not indulge and aim for The Heights?”
Then, you can lay back down in the funeral pyre and turn off all the lights,
As Satan rushes in, and everyone in The Church screams and runs,
Running away with all their chains (pause) knives and guns,
Except a little fellow in The Front Row, sitting there with a little pout.
“Don’t YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Satan lets out with a mighty shout,
“I am THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS; I can poison you,” (s)he says to this chap.
“YEAH, I MARRIED YOUR SISTER.” & the little guy nods and takes a nap.