The Zombie Contagion
Thank you for participating in the Zombie Poetry Project and for helping us perfect our virus! Once the volume of incidents reach epidemic proportions, we will open source the zombie code allowing users to utilize any source text they wish and further mutate the virus for their own purposes.
(This page will be regularly curated. It will be copy edited for punctuation and the occasional odd capitalization. Selected zombie poems will remain archived on the site.)
Platitudes: No rice and soy and corn
will harm her. Father’s of the street
are defamed. Slander is a two-dimensional wrong
and can be the basis for The Finger.
What shepherds trod upon you
With clumsy, rustic foot?
Now you are a broken seal:
A scarlet stain upon the earth.
The sky, the world-church together snapped.
That caught her eye. Now you are the man:
A scarlet stain upon a guillotine.
After a semester of studying the shiny lines,
I never want to hear a student say
that they have nothing to do but sigh
and go so far.
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Horizon comes in at his knees; that’s cloud
touch. I lift the huffing wind to my mouth,
I look at you and history sighs.
said my mother
as she held me in her arms as i wept
think of those flowers you plant
in the garden each year
they will teach you
that people too
in order to bloom
This is the rhythm she made dancing
for joy and sorrow among a boll-weevil
shower of stars. “Of life,” said my mother
as she struck rage in her arms, as I wept,
“this house of House, dream spot, plant.
In the changes each year, heat will teach
you that life everywhere must wilt,
fall, root, rise, in guidance, to bloom.”
Thank goodness I was too brainwashed to know it.
For goodness sake, what sort of a being are you?
So, do not be ungrateful, but sing His praises and thank Him for his goodness toward you.
Thank this innocence that finally settled
in the wet heat. Thank goodness I rested
too brainwashed to know it. Movement:
“So do not be ungrateful, but sing
His praises and thank the world for a zombie life
rage leads toward the woods.”
Use phrases and even words as sentences. Really.
Do not use too many sentences — about three or four is usually enough.
Use a short sentence as a summary after a longer description.
Generally speaking, a short sentence works well at the start of a paragraph or speech item to grab attention, and at the end, to summarize and signal completion.
Use short sentences to create the church
and make every building. Use deer blinds and
that couch as the downtown strip. Really. Don’t
use fire — About three or four are usually
everywhere. Use tyranny as your friend and guide
after an hour. Generally, pleading a short sentence
works well at the door to find the man
coming back from the wooden sky to grab
a zombie life. Rage, lead, and, at the end,
summarize and signal peace.
The language used by prey at fences
and poles snapped wet, but this happened
fast. The language broke. What was
not tough, snorted stars made — Flashes
for an upstairs sheet!
This is going to be the state of the world
that rushes by at your fingertips;
This will be your dream of the sky.
But I can fully understand why you’d have
to have the skunk that seemed in your path and
whirled? I’d like to be able to see roofs
and gins that collapse on work instead of
empires at the post office door. Does this make
the sky pink or am I a bird out proclaiming
Your youth are resolved out of a bright time.
By rolling, both sides come to the world
that rushes by at your fingertips. This process
is known as negotiating the conflagrations. In a zombie life,
rage resolves most of the golden cases filed.
This trip is so important. We speak about
water all the time. It is a sudden shower.
I’ve met the day.
2. In a small saucepan heat butter and milk over low heat until butter is melted. Using a potato masher or electric beater, slowly blend milk mixture into potatoes until smooth and creamy. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
1. Bring volunteers of a colony to a boil.
Add the sign which warned the whole
thing broke, unstable, until bellies
growl and burst. But still the windows
about the pearly-white girl. Sunlight
is two-dimensional blues. In the sun,
finger over his hair and beard
until a bit is melted. Using your friend
and guide or electric beater slowly blend
the pale mixture into old news until smooth and whole.
Civility is salt and pepper to a new regime.
my frontal lobe needs release,
Tape the mouth of the offending lout,
and save me from my grief.
more you lout, get out of my head
out, out, out
Before my mouth responds in and and I begin to shout!
Hearts and minds of your voice is constantly in a
single word. The voice needs release. Tape the mouths
of overhead lights and save me from his loyal children.
More, you lout, get out of my head, out even, out
before my mouth responds in… and… and… I begin to shout!
Foot was shaken by the overwhelming revelation
that a blind hunter between his misfortunes
ad his dreams was at that moment smelling
shop. The black smoke grew darkness
`Damn class’ he heard. `How will way here get
out of this labyrinth!
The act or practice of renouncing; repudiation; specifically: ascetic self-denial.
The post office door. Clutch of expanding.
Flat nothing’s particular marbling.
Later: Strong self-denial.
Although ownership was camp
for him, gray lunches and roofs and gins
that collapse at the start of bands in his
verse led to some of his most important poetry
as suddenly as tyranny was itself in his Life
Studies. When he was fifty, Lowell died
pooling flowers to treat the whole dark.
Laughter on this earth. There is chaos.
Whether we individually create ground
or not, we are sometimes solitary. And
how! Heat is affecting one another by stretching
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/eclipse.html
The thoughts like error are entitled
to eclipse. All is here, provided
the light returns and the world
does not become flat night. Fields
are strong. Parent fear of the light
is the same as the survival of joy
and sorrow. Read more at the sky.
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Some say the staccato-thumping
will end in Old Nothing’s stiff marbling,
some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted
of her father’s fire, I hold with those who
favor the open road. But if marbling was
to perish twice, I think I know enough of fences
and poles to say that for destruction
ice is very strong and would suffice.