Spore Cat's Visions

The Prim Incenses is a poetic narrative, originating in The Unions of Eviscerating. The rules of the form are applied by poets to produce individual poems which can be recited. The poem is divided into three distinct parts: four quatrains, two to three nine-line stanzas and five tercets. Use of ambiguity is characteristic of the form. A form of parallelism is common throughout the poem, in that certain lines often contrast underlying meaning. Each line has six syllables.
The first part is intended to describe the past. Certain lines use the same placement of allusions. The fourth line of each quatrain reverses the word order of the first line. The rhyme scheme respecting the full poem is ABBA.
The second part is intended to offer a different perspective concerning current events. Certain lines use the same placement of allusions and sometimes have reversed word orders. The rhyme scheme respecting the full poem is CAAACCAAA.
The third part is intended to develop the previous idea concerning the future. Certain lines use the same placement of allusions and sometimes have reversed word orders. The rhyme scheme respecting the full poem is DDA.
ABBA ABBA ABBA ABBA CAAACCAAA CAAACCAAA (CAAACCAAA) DDA DDA DDA DDA DDA

Spore Cat's Visions
By Ian Schlom with Austin

Spore Cat baked live evil Gore?
Terrible wonders near
Which show that ASCII's clear
Gore evil live baked cat Spore?

More for his castle, roar!
What did he fetch so near
The gossip made them sneer
Roar! Castle his, for more

Bore great labors, the chore
Arrive with cups of beer
Tire the glass with a cheer
Chore, the labors, great bore

For what did he implore
The tasty crevice dear
The salty jelly smear
Implore he did, what for?

Behold this slimy lump:
Steamy room past locked door
Where kids sleep on the floor
Who'd sought to ask for more.
Withered soil, an old stump,
The sky sees nothing plump.
Beyond, the blistering sore,
Where there is kept no score
Live aching masses of poor

Hills keep the drunk old grump
Where we're free to ignore
Frequently as of yore
Locked with our proper chore.
They work at the oil's pump
For grotesque creep and flump
Expel he did what for
Beyond our poisoned shore
Where dreams still die galore.

Strength found horizons red
The sleepy lie for bed
World free new the explore.

Or barren land unfed
All life, all dreams long dead
Hands strange from outcomes more.

A land of cheer or dread
The options ours to wed
Between peace or last war

Anger and fear they said
So hate and death would spread
Above over and ashore.

There came the fork ahead,
To Death, or life instead.
No stories evermore.