Best The Living Dead Poems


The Living Dead

Held behind cold stone walls,
In silence, marched to work.
The shabby dressed walked prison halls,
Hell waits for those who shirk.

Breaking rocks or picking rope,
Naught to eat save gruel and bread,
Pointless toil, devoid of hope,
Here worked the living dead.

Mornings in the chapel praying,
The gathered wincing at the drops,
The hangman had the condemned swaying,
Yet more unworthy souls now cropped.

The chaplain looking down his nose,
He could better use his ministrations,
The faithless sat in squalid rows,
(As he prayed for a better station.)

Ne'er has a place been so bleak,
Nor seen more fear and woes,
If the Devil sought out company,
It would be here he chose.
© Gary Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Beware the Living Dead

From my window, darkness was quickly descending.
Costumed creatures were walking about, pretending
to be goblins and ghosts, expecting me to be scared
and totally freaked out, for which I was not prepared.

I'd been warned about evil spirts on Halloween night,
and vampires rising from coffins to give my neck a bite,
but no one had cautioned me, "Beware the living dead!" 
I laughed it off and scoffed at a zombie's decayed head.

Around me creepy crawlers slithered. I felt an eerie chill.
but I was trick-or-treating for candy; my bag I'd yet to fill.
Across the blood red moon, flew witches in pointed hats.
Their dark silhouettes joined by a flock of shrieking bats!

I saw a man dressed as a baby, but he looked like a brute.
He growled at me, so I ran as he chased me in hot pursuit.
I thought I'd be attacked when suddenly there appeared
skeletons whose clicking bones pointed at me and jeered.

With worry I started thinking, Could these things be real?
Something nibbled on my hair. How horrid it made me feel!
I went to a house with a porch light, hoping for Tootsie Rolls,
but screamed when in the open door stood sneering Trolls.

I tried to convince myself that this was just some silly hoax,
by friends trying to make me cower with their wicked jokes.
With a bit of bravado, I rang another doorbell, undaunted,
but fled again when I saw signs that the house was haunted.

How I wished for the power to fly away on a witch's broom
and escape the macabre apparitions on this night of gloom.
Now filled with trepidation and dread, I darn near fainted
wondering if the sweet treats I'd collected were all tainted.

Somehow, I managed to make it home but could not sleep.
Snarls from under my bed gave me goosebumps, skin-deep.



October 22, 2022   ~   Halloween Poetry Contest
             Sponsored by Emile Pinet

Premium Member Night of the Living Dead

Rising from their graves,
Breaking through the ground,
Raised by radiation waves,
They are coming to your town.

Board up all your doors,
Nail them good and tight,
Or there will be blood and gore,
By the end of the night.

They tear down your walls,
Break through your window pane,
No one can help you at all,
When they try to eat your brain.

Those dead eyes make you shiver,
You scream out with alarm,
Zombies try to eat your liver,
And, chew on your leg and arm.

There is no point to tell her,
That it is just too late,
Go hide down in your cellar,
You cannot escape your fate.

Zombies are the living dead,
They do not easily expire,
So, cause injury to their head,
Or, burn them with fire.

Hungry zombies do not give,
Oh, you better run,
Or you will not live,
To see the rising sun.


Written by: Kelly Deschler
October, 11th, 2013
For Leonora Galinta's contest -  
"Halloween-Only One Theme...Zombies!"


Night of the Living Dead

Along with a haunting horde trick-a-treating
Dressed as ghosts, ghouls and goblins,
Dancing dwarfs and teetering giants,
Despicable despots and snarling demons, 
Pirates, warlords and mercenaries,
Blood-sucking vampires and wolverines,
Dracula, zombies and Frankenstein,
Skeletons, Spiderman and scarecrows,
Walking deads or the Grim Reaper,
Pretty princesses or the wicked witches,
We too tagged along with this
wild and weird looking carnival,
Hiding our sinister thoughts
and evil designs behind
our smiling Joker's masks
to garner the most candies and toys
with our macabre charm!

Very much so as in our mundane lives
Each morn after a fitful night,
We put on the masks of
good cheers and civility,
Hiding the day's concerns and care,
Envy, hate and jealousy
behind a hypocritical smile and keen dress.

But on this eerie night of Halloween,
We get to let our masks down for a while!


~"Halloween Poem" contest by Carol Eastman

Premium Member The Living Dead

Take away the safety net
What remains 
only the weak kill and call themselves men 
A coward hides in the mountain of who they are 
behind their own curse justifying wrongs 
Tears falling each and every single day 
suffering innocence weep 

Self inflicted forged inside darkness 
Mortal sin 
The day will arrive 
when you have to come out of your shell facing reality
Evil deeds done dirt cheap begging soul forgiveness 
Blinding pure is the eyes of our Saviour 

Salvation enslaved by guilt 
poor is the heart where poison seeps 
Rich forgiving pride the Lords prayer I say 
Please God open their eyes to your peaceful presence 
Make them aware of your goodness morally within 

Open their souls to the truth 
such deeds hold an ugly sin
Mercy on your damned soul 
Such actions 
destiny crumbles 
inside their castle walls bleed burning with fire 
Angry all their lives at everyone but themselves 

Articles of faith strips them bare 
I tip my eyes to the Lord 
Blessing myself in the name of our Father the Holy trinity 
Begging their forgiveness 
One third of Man 
blind faceless spill blood 
cursing peace and His Holiness in the end days

The Living Dead

While walking through a cemetery
Things were really quite ordinary
Until I finally saw
My "alive" mother-in-law
That's when it turned out to be quite scary
© Larry Belt  Create an image from this poem.


Association of the Living Dead

Association of the Living Dead Republicans 

In India, several years ago
A man falsely claimed his brother
Was dead so he could inherit the family assets,

The dead brother had to fight 
To be declared legally not dead
And contest the will.

“The Association of the Living Dead” 
Became a movement
Of thousands of people.
For in India apparently,
It was a thing to declare
Your relative is dead.

I never thought 
That the US would have 
To form their own 
“The Association of the Living Dead”
Until this week.

The cyber ninjas 
In their infamous non-forensic audit
In the 2016 Arizona election 
Claimed that hundreds of dead people
Had voted.

They gave their list of the alleged dead voters
To the attorney general
Who contact all 300 dead people
Found that 299 of the 300 were in fact
Not dead and none of them knew
That unnamed political operative
We’re claiming that they were dead.

The one dead voter was alive 
when he voted early.
But died before election day
Thus making his vote not valid
But there was no fraud involved
As he was alive when he voted.

Perhaps they need to form 
The “association of the living dead”
To fight for the right of the non-dead people
To continue to vote and receive other government benefits?

What a sad commentary 
On the farcical nature 
Of contemporary life
In these disunited States of America.
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

Fright of the Living Dead 2k12

O Tony, wherefore dost thou feel out of sorts?
Existing so - tho' not soothly living.
Haps thou art the living dead which resorts
Into its cold chamber ne'er living.

Premium Member The Living Dead

She gets high on suicide

Cos that’s the aphrodisiac 

Running through her veins

At some point soon

She’ll hear that tune

Pushing her nearer

To her doom

The note is already in her head

Recited from the living dead

Goodbye world

It’s time to go

I never had a chance

But don’t feel sorry for little me

Cos this is the day I finally see

Maybe next time you never know

But for now it’s time to go

Finally, falling fast asleep

Exactly like they said

The note now lying beside her head

The final extract it simply read

Recited from the living dead.
© Paul Bell  Create an image from this poem.

Night With the Living Dead

Wounded in battle from a long drawn fight;
Took refuge, late in the night, in a small burial ground;

Hungry and thirsty with no place to hide, fell asleep, in the dark of the night;

Woke to a sudden chilly breeze blow, that sent shivers and tremors right through my  my spine;

The rustle and tussle of dry twigs and leaves, kept my eyes open with gleaming tears;

Shadows of darkness from big grumbling trees, felt like mammoths coming right at me;
Whisper in whispers from creatures around, felt like the world was angry with me.

Grumbling & scrambling with my two feet, hoped to catch a light in the dark.

Cris, crossing crosses, showed me a sign, only to quickly disappear again;

Huge was expansion, fighting direction seemed like an ocean filled with commotion,
in such proportion, that losing my quotient was simply a notion trying to flee from darkness & thee;

Slammed in the body by an ivory post that struck like a hand, from a man standing in silvery sand;
Fell to the ground with absolute sound that none could hear in such a town;

Woke the next morning shaking my ache, only to see voices awake;
Asking me questions that I could not take;
Managed to fumble and stumble away to a fresh start on happiness day

The Living Dead

Please don't wait
for me to feel it-
let's just start
from right here
awkward, numb and full of fear
it's now or never

Feeling dry
preserved, mummified
like something
long since dead
flickers of life in my head
haunting like a ghost

Trance-like walk
horror story style
down the aisle
children flee
mummy mumbles, blankly stares
heart and soul elsewhere

Still I try
to show up and care
God forgive
my dead soul!
Unfeelingly, I believe-
help my unbelief

__

Another Shadorma, with apologies to readers expecting a Halloween poem!  I found this tucked in my Bible from a Sunday a while back when I was depressed and not in a proper mind for worship.  While it's a bit embarrassing to admit I feel this ambivalent at times, I'm posting this hoping it will comfort others who struggle with this as well.

Night of the Living Dead Beat Poets Society

In black painted seashells candles burn,
  eyes stare blank - no one is home;
they barely live and never learn,
  incense-smoked souls in the twilight zone.
Nightfall casts a silver net,
  Nagasaki is back projected;
a chanted dirge from a silhouette,
  nasal whines, shrill and affected.
Perfume drunk from china bowls,
  the atmosphere is cold, ceramic;
red lasers burn like smoking coals,
  incompetently mock Satanic .
Verses dredged from heaving lungs,
  voices cracked and centre stage;
speaking words in foreign tongues,
  dry ice swirls, it's all the rage.
Bongo drums thud out a beat,
  faces white as Arctic frost;
frozen minds, no spark or heat,
  dynamics cast aside and lost.
Born too late I voice this treason,
  yearning for a time apart,
when soul and purpose, rhyme and reason
  were all to the poets art.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Living Dead

The living dead, think they’re alive
Trapped in a fear prison
Thoughts centred on wealth and sex drive
Yet feel their soul’s risen

Human form a facade
In darkness they do plod
Distanced from love and God

By desires led
The living dead

17-August-2022
Quietus

Words From the Living Dead

Wait in the car I’ll be right down,
Don’t want to get sick, I’ll be quick, so stick around.
I feel so bad you know I don’t want to do this,
Don’t hug me and don’t give me a kiss,
I deem myself powerless
And your God must lie
Even your tears these days don’t move my eyes,
Wait in the car I’ll be right in,
Just one more fix and then we can begin,
I wish this stuff was better but I swear I don’t want to get high,
I can still feel the pain in my body… but I swear I did it just to get by,
It’s all about me now don’t you know?
Are childhood love I keep injecting away as the years go,
It’s all about the past… forget that it’s a new day,
My life died along the forbidden way,
Wait in the car it might take me some time,
Gota set it up just right, be nice and clean while I lose my mind,
You know I am a good listener tell me how you feel
That’s what all the junkies tell me while we digest our daily meals.

“I am done waiting in the car you might as well have injected me too
I lost my best friend to something brown and blue”

By: Sabina Nicole
Written: Oct 2, 2012

The Living Dead

haven't we all been there, 
haven't we all seen 
our nightmares come true, 
haven't we all felt the dread 
crawl under our skin, 
seep into our heads 
spread in our thoughts 
to manifest as dreams and 
leak out in the form of a tear. 
And the person who can't shed 
those tears no more 
at the bitter experiences 
after the worst, 
his soul has begun to rot,
his innocence has begun to die.
haven't we all
buried our holes 
filled the voids in our heart
being betrayed by the people
who were taken to be granted
with the smiles of pity.
haven't we all replied 
with the masks that scorch our faces,
hiding the wounds of the past
that will never heal,
behind the curtain of fear.
haven't we all stared at the sky,
counted the sunsets,
gazed at the crescent moon,
to the days to end.
And with the passing time,
we have lost our old selves
with time,
we have lost our true innocent selves,
with time,
we have turned ourselves into
the living dead!
© Ravi Kiran  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace