There will always be more.

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During the Zombie Apocalypse, many wonder how there got to be so many. Well, it’s very simple… when a zombie loves another zombie very much… wait, no, it doesn’t work that way. It’s a little closer to this:

Turned

Dripping dots of off colored blood
the dead’s blood thickens and blackens up
they stagger along because they can’t walk
moan and groan because they can’t talk
reach for you because they know no friend
claw at you because they should be eating
bite at you to fill their face
chewing and slobbering
you, wasting away

but they aren’t done
and neither are you
you get up
dust yourself off
now you’re one, too

Well, I guess there are worse things that could happen. What’s worse than being a zombie? You’ll see. For now, have a great day.

I seek to provide no cause for revenge.

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I hold no grudge and hate no one. I release anger in my words, where I mold it such that my hatred does not harm. I am peaceful, caring and giving. I seek to make things better. But I am not perfect. So when I do fail at my objective, do not hold it against me for I would not hold it against you. But, if you were to… if you were to hold it against me, know that if you are not spot on perfect, I will survive.

This Best Plan of Yours

You kissed a whisper with your finger tip
let the sentiment bloom and then slowly drip
tore the petals from the flower
exercising gifted power

the eyes in your head glower
fuming as you retaliate
the secret plan that you made
off without a hitch
isn’t that great?
again, let me state
it was a mistake
you horrid
sick
little
thing

But it’s okay
because you didn’t kill me
so I get my turn
my chance to burn
to make your scorn
turn to mourning
while it begins dawning on you
what exactly you’d do
to get even

life doesn’t work that way
I will reiterate
It just doesn’t work that way.

So many words to say ‘try again, if you dare.’ But I hold no grudge. So, to everyone, have a great day.

Sorry, I’ll take the car

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Phobias run the gambit from ‘is that even possible?’ to ‘Oh, thank goodness I don’t have that.’ Believe me, it is possible. All of it.

Ambulophobia – Fear of walking

On my feet, I will not tread
I am afraid, I will admit
I cannot, will not, ever do
the stepping motion
walking, to you

because of this solemn decree
I drive everywhere
even crossing the street

I am sorry if this is your phobia. But, I do hope you have a great day.

There is still some inner business left.

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Running this way and that. Going here and there. There is always something to do on this planet of ours. But what about when it all changes and bodies come back here, opening their eyes and staring at the inside of a coffin? Will they remember that they are busy?

Graves’ Purpose

A grave is a bed
a place to rest your head
your limbs feel like lead
and you can’t move your head
but you still want to move
you have things left to do

but it’s time to sleep for you
and there’s nothing you can do

I couldn’t handle that. I might give the coffin a rap. Tear loose the slats until I could get back to the surface. But that’s me… have a great day.

Someone going to help him down?

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During the Zombie Apocalypse, you can’t be too sure about dead things. Still, we do have a certain obligation to remain human or there really are only zombies left.

Grave Need

a corpse in the wind
stripped of its skin
slowly turning
the wind pushing by spins
the body slowly around
hands dangling down
trying to pull it down

the corpse just wants to rest
it isn’t formally dressed
not out in its best
just stopped for a rest

we see how well that went

Someone should give him a hand, even if you have to make sure he’s dead first. Stay cautious… and have a great day.

They have to put in some effort.

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Zombies! Here, there, everywhere. Zombies in your cupboard, Zombies in your house, Zombies in your bathroom making out a loan. Maybe you should do something about that… though, I’ve heard money isn’t as useful in the Zombie Apocalypse. Still, we do have needs–but so do they…

Hungering

Body stands
body walks
stagger on feet
clawing along
reaching and straining
for something to eat
hungry body searches
as living life retreats

Hungry Zombies, nothing really new there. Have a great day–and hope he’s a vegetarian.

Rotten, filthy and–not so fast!

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Old habits die hard? What about if they survive even when we do?

Dead Habit

The corpse tries to bathe
it washes in its grave
it writhes as it says,
“filth all over me!”

The body has forgotten
the fact that it’s rotten
the fact people are treading
above it while it’s sobbing

it wants to, yet again,
spend time with its friends
enjoy days to their ends

and have a nice scent

Nothing wrong with wanting to smell nice. I like to. Have a great day.

Maybe you’d have walked nicer if you’d known…

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Keep in mind that every step is you stomping something that can’t answer. What if it could?

Fed up

You walked on my back
now I’ll walk on yours
I’ll step as hard as I can
until your spine has sores
I’ll trample and stomp
and clomp along
until,
you’ll either die
or get really strong

Maybe you’d have been nicer if you’d known. Have a great day… and help others have one, too.

I don’t have insomnia, I’m keeping watch.

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Sleep is for the weak, that’s what some people say. But they’re wrong, it isn’t for the sleep. It’s for the safe. And I, good sirs and madams, am not safe.

Tangled Remnant

Scuttling closer
along the ground
misshapen bodies
rapidly bound
they pull and step
they roll and leap

all to reach
where you sleep

Watch for them or they will creep up on you and stuff you down your throat. They do that so you’ll digest you, because they can’t. Have a great day.

I’d fight, but I have to check the mail.

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There are things worth fighting for. There are things that are valuable enough that you would never let anyone drag them from your fingers–even if you were dead. But… sometimes… it just isn’t worth the effort. Not particularly because you can’t, but because of what it is you see when you realize that is needed.

The Shikilikkain’s Rising

Do you hear the sound of feet?
the screaming they exude
the running charge
and passing barge
that shoves aside, so rude
and as if they were the victim
of close combat assault
they glance back
as if attacked
screaming
but they still run off

leaving behind the one struck
to stagger in their wake
the mounting feeling
of thunder closing
makes them turn around and take
a deep breath
or what’s meant to be
it clogs their throat
mercilessly
and drags its claws
shredding wide
the meat that lines
that tube air rides
down through the body
into their lungs
and standing there
they see why to run

a ragged face over sinewed corpse
it stomps the ground as it tramps forth
and closes in with hundred steps
on insect body, a thousand legs
the torso rocks to and fro
but doesn’t seem attached below
it rides as if a passenger
and as it closes, it dawns on witnesses
the body is just plunked upon
and then the legs twitch and throw it off

an insect stares with hungry eyes
massive bug with talons wide
jaws that stretch from side to side
jagged teeth in sickened maw
dripping liquid running off
horrid pattern of leopard’s maze
stenciled on in confusing way
makes the eyes follow deep
the horrid thing
does closer creep

fear inside as terror grasps
it grips the rains and whips the mass
they fear and scream and shout away
their feet leading as they seek to say
“away from here, and not again
this place is lost
ruins, my friend!”

They wear their victims and move them like puppets. That, child, is Chaos’ doing. Run from this place. And may you come back again and reclaim what is yours. But for now, just try and have a great day at all.

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