Best Zombified Poems
Why, in a haunted house, do we scream?
We know that the monsters are mechanized.
We know that the bumps are all oversized.
We know things are not what they seem.
Why, in that haunted house, do we chuckle?
We’re bombarded with bright lights, loud screams,
thumps and bumps; we imagine extremes
but know it’s all fake as we grip the belt buckle.
Why, in our own home, when we hear creaking,
don’t we cry or guffaw, but instead
we tiptoe, gasp and believe the undead
and the zombified trespasser come softly sneaking.
Why, when the horror and terror aren’t real,
Do we shriek with delight, while thrilled to the bone?
Why, when we know that we’re really alone,
Are panic and dread the emotions we feel?
forever seemed to long for me
so i chose to make it start today
i went to church, (which is rare for me)
and sadly for you, i ran away.
i sat through the horrible singing
even though it was by a professional choir
it was great going to a concert for free
but God, they have made you a liar
when i tell people i hate Christians
they wonder why if I'm 'one of them'
just keep reading my story
you'll understand by the end
you see, it wasn't that the music was bad
it was all on key and harmonic
but the thing that bothered me
everyone's actions were also melodic
they all swayed in a zombified way
and i tried but i couldn't feel God
i was trapped in the middle of a cult meeting
disguised as a church building squad
all that mattered were the numbers they brought
whether it be people or money
they higher the digits became
the more i found it funny
funny that 'this' is what church has become
funny that 'these' are the holy
funny that 'this' is what they make god
all because they changed him so slowly
the world doesn't hate us because we don't sin
by us i mean those who are saved
they hate us cause you act like you don't
and make them feel like we're enslaved
My country is the beautiful sun
My country is not the hard winter
My country is an often green Eden
Always languid and tropical at dawn.
It’s a country where the crowing of roosters
Revives everybody every morning
It’s a country furnished with filthy slush and rocks
Where nature is a vast and miserable garden.
It's a country full of horrid stories
Where slaves and decent people are revolted
Against greedy settlers and bloody buccaneers
It’s where only macabre memories exist.
In this awful and morose atmosphere
Where I banter all that is negative
I will build positive monuments
I will dream and recite fables.
My country is the moonlight
Which gives hope and strength to fight
Against masked and zombified
Bogeymen. Oh! God, I hold no grudges.
My country is the ever positive imagination
Presently, I don't want to denounce anyone
However, I will silence the chiming bells
Oh! It's sad to see my people on the exodus
Near the evacuative shores.
P.S. Gilles Vigneault, this poem is
For you and our people.
Copyright © January 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Ages and ages I’ve been sat in this chair
Bored out of my brain it’s really not fair
Can’t wait much longer until it’s my turn
Don’t keep me waiting I’m nervous and my tummy does churn
Everyone else has gone in before me
Feeling frustrated, fed up, so please hear my plea
Going to burst soon, this pressure needs to ease
Help me! Somebody help me please
I am going to burst my bladder if you don’t see me soon
Just 5 more minutes or I will wee in this room
Keep me waiting much longer and I will scream out loud
Look its no fun peeing in public and I am so very very proud
My nerves are shattered and I’m so so scared
Need to have this procedure and I thought you would have cared
Oh hurry up and call my name
Please please hurry or I will go insane
Queuing and waiting is really no fun
Right now I simply need this thing to be done
Success! My name has just been called
Tugging my hair out I was rapidly going bald
Utter bliss when it’s over then I can go to the loo
Value your health its something we all must do
WHAT - THE MACHINE IS BROKEN AND WON’T BE MENDED TODAY
Xpletive - I won’t shock you with the words I would say!
You cannot be serious … I’ve got to wait
Zombified until I get a new appointment date
~8~16~14
Submitted to abecadarian contest Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
A couple of zombies were walking down the street
Those coupla zombies were my girlfriend and me
Looking to go out and terrorize the town
Searching for some brains but no one was around
We searched and searched but found nothing
It seems everyone was hiding from my girlfriend and me
We gave up and returned to our graves
Decided we would eat some other day
Oh won't you feed us?
Feed us some flesh
Oh won't you feed us
Some brains would be best
Oh won't you feed us?
We're hungry for you!
Oh won't you feed us
Your brains will do
So I guess it will suffice to say
My girlfriend and I never ate that day
Life's real hard being zombified
Sometimes we both just wish we had died
How can I feel so tired?
I've slept for most of the day,
Being in constant pain,
Is causing me dismay.
It's not just my knee,
I have cervicalgia to put up with too,
My right side is shot to ****,
What the bloody hell am I to do?
I'm taking tramadol and gabapentin,
With amitriptyline and co-codamol on top,
I'm surprised I'm not rattling,
I just want this pain to stop.
I have vitamin D supplements,
B12 injections every quarter,
My medications dry out my mouth,
I spend all day drinking water.
I can't sleep due to the pain,
Oh dear, woe is me,
If it's not that keeping me awake,
It's the many times I have to get up to pee.
I think I'll give myself up for scrap,
Not that I've got many working parts,
And seeing as I've had curry for tea,
They certainly won't want me with farts.
So, I'll just sit here and wallow,
Taking strong painkillers is a swine,
Beer and spirits are off limits,
I can't even have a glass of wine.
But, hey I'm still smiling,
If I don't I'll break down and cry,
It's time to take my tablets,
Zombified time is nigh.
Born a Christian in the fertile womb of a blessed land,
A paradisiacal genesis for a continent chained to imperialism.
Genocides cascading beneath the crumbling altar of human rights.
They crucified my humanity
With demonic chimeras.
I have dragged my zinc coffin since birth
Across the minefields of these greedy philanthropists.
I carry the age-old weight of curses
Of my zombified people since the slave trades.
They do not want me to sanctify my traumatized Africanness
With the blessings of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
I am guilty like Jesus Christ
And innocent like the soiled hands of a child soldier.
I have never enjoyed the riches of my partitioned continent.
These scavengers have spread hatred in my people’s hearts for centuries.
My tormented mind is the vault of horrors
That the West has perpetrated in the cradle of my ancestors.
These criminals want me to curse Lucifer
As if he were responsible for centuries of dehumanization
Of my forebears in the Americas.
The devil will never be my enemy,
I have never met him.
Human savagery has nothing metaphysical about it.
My indelible scars are not fictitious remnants.
He called me a filthy *****,
He discovered the face of my love.
He will no longer have the courage to insult my genetic code.
I scourged him with the laws of the Code Noir
Of the Republic of slaveholding Enlightenment.
I share the same skin color as Osiris,
The same beauty as those colored pharaohs.
The journey is scarred,
The traumas, too silent.
I fight in the death row corridor
To remain a man of integrity.
To write the darkness of my feelings,
A liberating outlet for my demons.
I chose integrity in the meanders of precarity.
In another life, I would wield guitars
To escape the whims of misery.
Serenity, my only solution in this dimension.
I think of the reaper every day,
Like a man condemned to death.
Stipulations of mild stripy animals can be seen even in a misted monument. As money is a molestation and global percentages is often hazardous. Such jeopardy in high ranking offices. Wow. Penalisation of a queue of poor is a sour and act of radicalised clerics whose antics displease the wibble wobbling signature lines of many a balanced sky temple. So skit not a wild free grass skirted cat. For it us the beams of life that will induce freedom formations. When leaping over a hurdle of biscuits take care not to erode timeless meaninglessness chatter as boxes are utilised to contain essences so do not dare to argue with a rolling pin nor discuss dietary requirements with angelical mildew mops. Moving on. Zombified trolley dashing wisdom lacking duped. La la la.and I am laughing haha *** dramatically shimmering chimney stack in a tropical weave. Xxxx mysticism xxxx clip clop
A rather long tale, it is written:
The story of heroic kittens
The boy was called 'Bat'
The girl’s name was 'Gat'
By the end, you’re going to be smitten
In a medical flight to Ukraine
A supply box fell out of a plane
They were vaccines on ice
With some scary advice:
Keep this cold or you might go insane!
Well, on impact, it split open wide
And it spilled all the vaccines inside
They lay on the ground
No longer ice-bound
Till by rodents the contents were spied
Soon, the rats, in large numbers, had tried
The vaccines and a couple then died
But with toxic venom
That glowed deep within ‘em
The remainder were now zombified!
The kids were all outside to play
For it was a beautiful day.
But when they saw the prize
(All those rescue supplies),
Then suddenly, things turned to gray
The zombie rats started to swarm
They certainly looked to do harm
The kids were all trapped
No time to adapt
The forming of a perfect storm
And that’s when our heros stepped in
The odds were exceedingly thin
They clawed and they bit
With real gusto and grit
It was Bat and Gat for the win!
Now our kittens have grown rather fat
And they much prefer mouse over rat
The zombies are goners
The cats earned high honors
Hip-hooray, Bat and Gat, hero cats!
Heads bowed, eyes focused,
The magic of the Hocus Pocus.
Transfixed, in a spell
Nothing else will they dwell.
Walking around zombified
Surely brains, have been fried.
Life ruined, no conversation,
Texting now the inspiration.
Grasp of language, long forgotten,
Shortened text – yuk, it’s rotten,
GR8, LOL, TLC, OMDB,
Worlds gone mad, OMG!!
The snake bites while you are sleeping now
Nightmares convert dreams full of terror
Drunk off the contagion that pierced the heart
Legion commanding organs freshly sowed
Evil symphony strikes the barrier
Zombified by Lucifers abstract art
Writing foreign symbols on the ceiling
Chilly breeze made the spine tremble fiercely
Torches ignited the shrill squealing
It's time for the ritual of death see
Give yourself to a higher power tree
Conquer all your fears and ride with thee God
Lay your coins and blood in the devil hands
They say the evil is just beginning
Most of my Lix spittle existence
found me figuratively
(primarily academically) adrift,
and malfunctioning blinker
analogous to a boat with
out an ankh (caws
away) aimlessly bobbing -
and drowning akin
to a besotted drinker
just out of rest to be
rescued by Mister Rinker
sea ming lee without
any hook, line and sinker
despite being gifted with
an above average thinker
from without, where two
myopic ocular
orbs did winker.
All thru academia
just barely passing grades
metaphorically
suffered from anemia,
and at my nadir,
thy prepubescent psyche
plummeted lovely bones
into grave state,
sans anorexia minus bulimia
mental health also linkedin
shot thru through with
healthy dose of dysthymia
cap (tinned em man hint mettle)
kept awake with insomnia
peppering cerebral
cortex with monomania
buzzfeed ding somnambulant
zombified condition
with a burning
desire toward pyromania
nsync with unmanageable
raging (red dee
and bull lush) testosterone
spawning satyromania
the above particularly
accentuated, and cresting
with accursed
triskaidekaphobia
most agonizing, when
orbitz around Earth
demarcated ten plus
on a Friday the thirteenth,
hence death be not proud
sought after utopia
pleading, longing, and hooping
if I Willoughby
able to sprinkle
cremated ashes across Xenia.
Aye admit, an author's adept
and adroit mastery
to link words together subtly crept
(expressing contents
in a matter of fact
understandable fashion, except
for dissertations and/or kept
jargon for exclusive specialty)
posits, that my wordy verbosity,
revelation, viz "EUREKA" suddenly leapt
administers cerebral, harmful
offal psychological usury
verdict I accept
fomenting gobbledygook concept
might create notion, yours truly inept,
plus incorporating confessional backswept
facets of writerly person,
as sigh nearly wept
(drafting previous poem,
sans book review
like an emotional bit torrent windswept
"And I Don't Want
to Live This Life" anchored in concept,
qua raw maternal did severely intercept
the motherly bond Deborah Spungen
felt toward zombified miskept
incorrigibly, horribly, grievously...
tormented first born
or momentenous insept
begetting impregnation and early labor
Nancy Laura Spungen since birth,
perhaps seeped when aye slept
into nooks and crannies of subconscious,
though one could breeze thru said book
such evocative anguish left
me numbly bereft, yet acutely aware
to vicariously experience devastating agony!
They are the emptiness
their children will become empty and give birth to more emptiness
surround themselves with stray pets to ease the emptiness
have no sense of just so thus their brains are weightless
clothing ourselves with emptiness
it's a fashion to look uneducated, dubious, ridiculous in the most obvious way
materials to fill in what we never even knew we had, blank statements
becoming more and more faceless
our taste buds have become tasteless
raising children to be shameless
becoming zombified adults before ever being zombified children
aborting what we think we are not ready for
the emptiness, it was in us all along
but as for me, I am too strong.
-Bryce Stoskopf
An amateur archer, Antoine,
Bodaciously bragged beastly brawn.
Crushed counterparts,
Dispatched deadly darts,
Electrified everyone!
Fly fisherman Freddy flung far.
Gadzooks! Great gobbling gar!
He hooked half-heartedly,
Inverted inartfully,
Jettisoned jumbled jig jar!
Kenneth keeps kitchen knives keen
Love’s labors leave lanky, lean
Mills metal mightily
Nibbles Nightly
Overweight outcomes: obscene!
Peter’s pickled picked peppers: premiere!
Quoted quantities: questionable, q*eer
Ration’s Redeeming:
Scofield scale screaming,
Terrifies tongues, torrents tears
Ultimatums unduly unclear
Varnished vengeance veneer
Wipeouts, whiteouts
Xeroxing x-outs
Yielding yoked yeoman years
Zanax-zombified zebras zig-zag zanily, zap zooming zeitgeists
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Alliterative, Abecedarian Limericks!
Ran out for 'Z', so I made an alliterative monoku there. This was hard! The last stanza stretches the imagination a bit :-)