Rhonny Reaper's Poetry From The Grave

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Rhonny Reaper's Poetry From The Grave Page 2

by Rhonda Kachur


  Why do we move to eat what we are not anymore?

  Do we do it to regain our humanity?

  Come with me dear brother seemed the dead thing to say.

  We are hunger--we are fear. We will conquer the many.

  The voice in my head not quite human enough to speak,

  but know am ravenous and know must, must eat.

  My soul is still here however not accessible, like a trinket in a

  box and out of reach. Brothers my sisters walk side by side,

  we are dead. We are alive. Animate and coming to infect the

  others who breathe. It is they that are dead with one bite

  they will be unchained. With no self-control--the senses are freed.

  Sometimes we eat too much. Sometimes joined like roaches we provide

  the one minded demon to wipe out Gods seed. We are coming;

  we are marching. Wobble dolls of the creature race-- flesh rotted faces drip

  dissolution…But alive—so alive—Do not kill us, join us if you do not want

  to die. There is no expiration date. Nothing you have to wait on. Nothing you need

  to do—except gobble up a banquet of the real walking dead. We a community

  without war, a community without fear. We do ask be careful to take delivery

  of one precious bite. And then run away. Run for your life.

  Late Night Walk - Kaylene Humphreys

  All the people in the streets!

  hear them scream and shriek,

  what’s this horror they see?

  All the noise then silence,

  hear the scratching and slow steps.

  What’s this shocking thing?

  Rotten flesh and gnashing teeth!

  HAHAHA coming for me,

  what to do you ask?

  Roaring cars to escape,

  why run let it come.

  What else to do?

  Let this zombie meal begin,

  oh my dear didn't you see?

  What else could i be?

  Light is gone and now your done,

  there is no where else to run.

  what can you do?

  Fear does run and crackle,

  bones do break and shatter.

  My new treat you see?

  Fate has brought this horror,

  bracing to the future.

  Mysteries you believe?

  Why this tale is true,

  welcome to my zombie zoo.

  Your the main course!

  Why this is your fate,

  welling to this place.

  Your the meal!

  Shivers down peoples spines,

  which one next shall be mine?

  flesh peeling, its to late!

  shaking, falls, goes the gate.

  now their free, watch then run.

  This is their zombie fun.

  So soon the hunt begins,

  safety lost within forever.

  No place to hide!

  Sorry people I’ve gone to,

  my ravenous eyes see you.

  Now your mine!

  My Friends and Me - J. Rodimus Fowler

  From the darkness comes no light

  Only the fear and dread of bite

  As they shamble and huddle tight

  The moans grow louder as they near

  With fleeting peace and rising fear

  The smells of death, the decay of years

  The screams ring out, the fall of man

  The final sounds from a final stand

  The rotting dead now own this land

  We were the brave, we were the free

  The Devil’s seed for all to see

  This graveyard Earth, my friends and me

  Haiku “Flesh” – Rhonda E. Kachur

  I love the feeling

  Of flesh ripping from their bones

  Makes a popping sound

  My Zombie Girlfriend - Michael McCarty

  It ain't easy dating

  a zombie girlfriend.

  When you kiss her

  good night

  you can taste

  someone else.

  It ain't easy dining with

  a zombie girlfriend.

  You make her dinner –

  a bloody-red steak –

  and she says,

  "Gross! How long has this been

  dead?"

  It ain't easy making love to

  a zombie girlfriend.

  Are you just another

  piece of meat?

  Is she imagining you

  with butter

  melting down your back?

  It ain't easy marrying

  a zombie girlfriend.

  Your matrimony ceremony

  is a strange combo of

  wedding, funeral and

  all-you-can-eat buffet.

  No, it ain't easy living with

  a zombie girlfriend.

  Sometimes love just bites.

  Haiku #2 by Scott Emerson

  Taking communion

  Offerings of blood and flesh

  Starting with your own

  Swallow - Queenie Thayer

  As a dusty west wind blows

  The brittle tears on her face

  Dried and hardened into shards of mirror.

  No one saw her weep

  No one knew

  That inside that Goliath of stone and ice

  Was a little girl weeping without eyes.

  She kneels down and reaches deep

  Penetrating past his ribcage

  Hoping his listless heart

  Still has the flavor of freshly-pumped blood.

  Her cracked, decayed lips

  Taste like worms and soil

  One last reminder

  That love dies when the flesh rots away.

  With a hoarse voice she begs

  While biting into a chunk of meat,

  "Please...let me have my grief."

  And with that, she chews his heart

  And swallows regret.

  Zombie Bordello - Rhonda E. Kachur

  Tits and gore! We got em galore!

  Late night action is our main attraction!

  Graveyard chicks and Undead stiffs,

  The price is right for one Hell of a night!

  Come to bed with the Undead

  Cause barely fresh is always the best!

  We’ve got the girls that’ll make you hurl

  And for added fright, they also bite!

  And ladies too, we didn’t forget you!

  Our boys will make you quiver, but they always deliver!

  So come inside and have a good time,

  But please wear a ‘sleeve’ or you’ll NEVER leave!

  The Taste From Within - Eric Polk

  I am dead

  I am not me

  I am bound

  No longer free

  Run from me

  I am fear

  Death's sight unfringed

  Life's song sung

  Their eyes have just widened

  True visions haunting their steps

  They don't relate

  Just one immoral recognized

  The one that kills and yields

  Their way of life is hard and complex

  Unlike my want

  I draw towards the moving vessels in the west

  Their cries arouse and attracts

  Filling me with a sanctity

  Living an eternal night

  All the world is old

  I will never remember a sunrise

  I will never walk hand in hand in a garden

  I live mind to mind

  I live to feed

  Slipping into unconsciousness

  My gelid fingers tear their skin

  The others scream into the howling rain

  Flowing blood clouds my sight

  Their weakened breath exhales fast

  I dwell on holding their grey and white matte
r in my hands

  I look at them so ardently

  Yet, their soft substance feels too heavy

  Why do I abandon my singular thought?

  Can I not cry havoc?

  Can I not pray for guidance?

  Can I not pray for wisdom?

  Disorder infects me

  I look at the dying vessel

  Did I leave my soul behind?

  I stand silent

  I am dead

  I am not me

  I am bound

  No longer free

  Threnody - Charlie Morgan

  I stand before the kingdom of bones

  cursed to wander humanity's ruins alone.

  My eyes capture a canvas no artist could ever paint

  an emporium of rot, grief and pain

  The Earth, a haunted house where ghosts walk, hunt and consume their finds

  Their lifeless moans, a dirge for mankind

  They are death, the great equalizer

  no longer do differences matter

  We fade from life to the cold black

  but very soon we will be back

  The destructive, bitter souls no longer remain

  The spiral of life has started again

  A peace falls over the land

  all it ever needed was the right helping hand

  Haiku “Fast Food” – Rhonda E. Kachur

  Hello delicious,

  Why are you so hard to catch?

  I just want a bite!

  Night of the Living Dead: A Seussification - Nathan Hamilton

 

  “They’re coming to get you Barbara,”

  Johnny said with a grin

  “They’re coming for you,”

  He teased again and again

  But his words, they came true

  When a zombie attacked.

  Smacked his head on a tombstone

  And Whack! His head cracked.

  Barbara, run for your life!

  Barbara, run for the car!

  But Johnny’s got the keys,

  So you ain’t running far.

  Pull the brake! Now the car

  Rolls straight into a tree.

  And the zombie’s still coming.

  Barbara, you’d better flee!

  Run to that farmhouse,

  That one off in the distance.

  There are ghouls, but don’t worry,

  You’ll have some assistance

  From Ben, who arrives

  Tire iron a’ swinging.

  He’s pinging, and zinging’

  And stinging , and bringing

  Down all of the ghouls

  With a blow to the head.

  ‘Cause that’s the only way

  To stop the living dead.

  Ben starts barricading.

  Barbara gets hysterical.

  Her ranting and raving,

  Is downright unbearable.

  She tries opening the door,

  And that’s the last straw.

  There’s just one thing to do,

  Yep, right cross to the jaw!

  Thank God she’s out cold.

  That girl’s rambling was endless.

  With her out of the way

  Ben can get down to business.

  BANG BANG BANG goes the hammer.

  Board this place up tight!

  BANG BANG BANG, they won’t

  Be munching on us tonight.

  But who is this now

  Coming up from the cellar?

  It’s Cooper, a loudmouthed

  Balding ol’ feller.

  His daughter Karen’s been bitten

  She’s down there with her mom

  And a cute teenaged couple

  Named Judy and Tom.

  Cooper says “To the cellar!”

  (turns out he was right)

  But Ben disagrees,

  And the two start to fight.

  “I won’t go in the cellar!

  I won’t go, you hear?

  You can be boss down there,

  But I’m the boss up here.

  That cellar’s a deathtrap,

  A deathtrap I say.

  If those things get in here,

  Then we can’t get away.”

  Hang on, there’s a TV,

  Find out where help is at!

  But all they heard was

  “It has been established that

  The recently deceased

  While the body’s still fresh

  Are returning to life

  And seeking human flesh”

  But there are rescue stations!

  Our plan is now clear.

  ‘Cause Willard is just

  Seventeen miles from here.

  Ben’s got a truck

  But the gas tank is dry.

  There’s a pump, and it’s locked

  But it’s still worth a try.

  'Cause if we don’t go now,

  Then we just might be stuck,

  So Tom, Judy, and Ben

  Go to gas up the truck.

  Ben shoots the lock off the pump

  With a .22

  (Don’t try that at home kids,

  It’s a dumb thing to do)

  But Tom’s spilling the gas.

  Now they’re all out of luck.

  ‘Cause Ben’s torch blazes on

  In the back of the truck.

  Then the truck goes KABOOM!

  And the kids meet their doom

  As a barbecue

  The living dead will consume.

  With his truck now en fuego

  Ben runs for the house…

  Wait a minute,

  Was that zombie eating a mouse?

  Ben yells “Let me In Cooper!”

  But he won’t, it’s no use,

  So then when Ben gets in,

  That’s when all hell breaks loose.

  Cooper tries for Ben’s gun

  And gets shot in the fight,

  Zombie Johnny drags Barbara

  Off into the night,

  Karen munches on Daddy,

  Who she’s disemboweled,

  And stabs mommy again

  And again with a trowel.

  The boards start to give

  And the zombies flood in.

  Bolt yourself in the cellar

  Or you’ll get eaten Ben!

  Come morning, an army

  Of rednecks with guns

  Are hunting down zombies,

  Shooting every last one.

  And I really must say,

  It looks like lots of fun.

  Ben hears gunshots and thinks

  Hooray! Help has arrived!

  He comes upstairs, thinking

  He actually survived.

  But…

  Through the window he looks

  Just like the living dead

  So the redneck takes aim

  And shoots Ben in the head.

  That’s the end of the story

  Ben’s the last to expire

  Our hero’s now just

  Another one for the fire.

  Where do we go from here,

  As we watch mankind fall?

  If you’re asking me, I say

  We go to the mall.

  Not Dead - Rhonda E. Kachur

  What’s going on?

  Where am I?

  Why aren’t you answering me!?!

  No don’t run,

  I just want to ask you a question!

  Goddammit what’s going on!

  What was that!?!

  Did you just shoot at me!?!?

  Oh God, you’re trying to kill me!

  What the hell’s wrong with everyone!?!

  Why am I moving so damn slow!?!

  And why do I feel so hungry?

  I need to find my family.

  They must be worried sick!

  AH! There’s my car!

  But where the hell are my keys?

  I don’t feel so great


  And I’m still hungry as hell!

  Ok, I just need to drive home

  Maybe a hot bath and a good meal…

  What the fuck is in my mirror!?!

  NO! This fucking can’t be right!

  That can’t be me!

  It can’t…

  No, I’m Not Dead!

  I’m Not Dead…

  Not Dead…

  Dead.

  And now a special Flash Fiction tale by Cinsearae S., “The REAL Life of a Zombie”!

  If you think being a zombie is fun, think again! I’d rather be a dung beetle trapped in a 500-year-old cow turd than be part of my fellow, living-dead brethren!

  Everything about us is deteriorating--everything! Our eyeballs go bad and liquefy, we start to lose our hearing--and we are so beyond the awkwardness of human B.O.! Halitosis is heavenly compared to our breath! And for crying out loud, we get so freakin’ stiff, Frankenstein could beat us doing the limbo on any given day! No amount of Ben-Gay is gonna help soothe our joints. That also means no hot Saturday night dates--or any dates, for that matter, unless you’re the kind that’s into that type of stuff…(necrophilia anyone?) and even so, there’s no guarantee our decaying lower extremities will be in top working order, if you get my drift!

  And, hey, contrary to popular belief---we don’t last forever. We’re decomposing, rotting corpses, remember? Nothing about us is ‘alive’. They call us living dead, because that’s exactly right--we’re living and dying at the same time! Hmm…pretty much how like you humans are, but not in such an advanced, shambled state as to have your skin covered in open sores, your hair falling out, your teeth breaking and chipping, your fingernails yellowing and peeling off, your stomach squirming with insect larvae…you get the picture.

  Also, did you know that we glow when we’re submerged in murky waters? Yep, it’s a little-known fact. Because of our constant state of decomposition--after all, we’re nothing but walking incubators for maggots and other lively, wriggling critters--we still emit heat and other not-so-nice gasses. So, whoever thought it was funny to use our carcasses as underwater flashlights, SCREW YOU! I don’t appreciate being attached to the underside of pontoon boats, just so you idiots can track down alligators or whatever for your amusement! Underwater creatures have a field-day picking away at our putrefied pieces! I lost an eyeball thanks to one stupid fish that sucked it right out of its socket! That was my good eye, too!

  And watching bacteria and other various fungi grow on you is the worst! One day my skin looks all fuzzy-white, and the next day it looks like someone threw up corn flakes all over me. Then, here comes those damn maggots again. ARRGH! Ever-changing skin texture as a fashion-statement? YOU make the call!

 

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